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rubra-wav · 2 months

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I had this interesting scenario where Vox one day becomes exhausted from his rivalry with Alastor after realizing that the one-sided interactions were becoming old. He later meets the reader (who can also be a part of the hotel) who starts hacking into Voxtech's database to troll the company for shits and giggles. This catches Vox's attention and he's pissed about it. You can do what you want for the rest but they continue to have this rivalry to the point where it's very well known around hell. From an outside perspective, there is just back-and-forth angry banter but there are moments where they're just;

Reader: *appears on screen* Hey Box head, guess who found some good blackmail with your name on it- Vox: *Is so close to having a breakdown, he had a bad week.* Reader: Oh shit- did something happen, are you okay? 😰

They hate each other but they don't hate hate each other. This can be taken as platonic or romantic. I sent this request to someone else but I wanted to share anyway.

Vox x troll/hacker reader: Why So Blue? (Oneshot/concept version)

Why So Blue fic Masterlist

A/N me when I get to write Vox getting utterly humiliated by a troll-y hacker demon 🫶

I changed about the order of stuff as things happen a bit and took creative liberties with this one - sorry if it's really different then the thought you originally had.

(REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, THIS WAS FROM THE LAST TIME THEY WERE OPEN)

Update: This was really well-received, and several people have requested a part 2. I've decided that I will be writing it properly from the start in a proper chapter kind of way rather than in this format so it makes continuity kind of work better rather then the drabbl-y format used here.

Cw: SFW, romantic, enemy's to lovers type beat, references to one-sided radiostatic, also references to staticmoth, mildly suggestive in one part 💀, gn reader, mostly light-hearted - idk if it qualifies as quite hurt/comfort lmao

- It was just a normal morning for Vox when you first showed up.

- As usual, he booted up for the day, got changed out of his casual clothes, and made his morning coffee.

- As he walked into his computer room, absentmindedly sipping his coffee while looking at his phone, he sits down in his desk.

- Then promptly spits out his mouthful.

- When he finally looks up at the screens around him, he's mortified to see a muted video of himself passionately (and very drunkly) singing and dancing horribly from last night while he was out with Valentino and Velvette.

- Posted on Sinstagram from his own account.

- Hundreds of comments flooded in underneath it; laughing, saying it's cute, complimenting his singing, and talking about the caption underneath with curiosity.

- The caption reads; 'For someone who talks so big about being ahead technologically, it was awfully easy to hack old Boxy here LMAO'

- Vox flips out instantly.

- It doesn't take long to take down the post, change all of his details, and post an official apology for his lack of professionalism with a hypnotising message to forget the whole incident occurred at all. He also does a massive comb over for any other breaches and changes all of his systems to be even more impenetrable to a potional attack.

- He calms down, and the incident fades away to the back of his mind.

- But then it happens again.

- Another morning, an employee is rushing into his studio as he wakes up properly, telling him this time that someone is somehow broadcasting Rick Astley's 'Never Gonna Give You Up' to the entirety of hell at 6 am, interrupting every one of the scheduled programs.

- There's a message in big letters on the bottom of every screen in hell, under the god forsaken video and song playing, saying, "What is love~? - U" Underneath them.

- And that's how it starts, the infuriating thorn in Vox's side that is 'U'. No matter how hard he tries, you're constantly undermining his efforts to keep you out of the system and tormenting him in ways that aren't necessarily malignant but are extremely damaging to his image as the overlord of technology.

- For some reason, he's the only Vee you seem hellbent on coming after as well. Vel finds your pranks funny or cute when they don't inconvenience her, and Valentino just likes to prod Vox into getting angrier further.

- He just cannot work out what your motivations are at all. Is it truly that you just want to piss him off? He doesn't understand why someone with such clear skills would simply use them to taunt him and leave him messages to unveil as he undoes whatever you do.

- It vexes him even farther when these messages from you that you leave for him to decode start to sound borderline flirtatious, which makes him feel all the more humiliated.

- He is a grown demon, skilled businessman and entrepreneur, an overlord, and yet you insist upon calling him things like Box, Boxbabe, Boxbitch, and even babygirl of all things for some goddamn reason.

- The back and forth goes on for months, and 'U' quickly becomes a long lasting meme, several people, much to Vox's horror, shipping you two together and even partaking in ship wars as to whether Vox x 'U' is better then Vox x Val.

- Theres one day where Vox quickly puts his phone down after reading a rather concerning expert from what is certainly explicit fanfiction between the two of you, even him deciding that that's enough internet for today while just sitting staring off into space silently for a solid 10 seconds.

- Vox's sleepless nights pouring over his code to try and keep out your attacks, him glitching out whenever he finds infuriating messages left by you, etc. Begin to become routine and he just anticipates the consistent blows to his pride you give him at every turn.

- A weird, unconscious part of him deep down begins to enjoy your rivalry, almost wanting to see what punches you pull out next to disarm his constant losing battle to keep you out, but it gets squashed down the second he becomes aware of it.

- The rivalry is always at arms length, but sometimes he has to stop himself from replying with the same vaguely flirtatious tone you take on whenever he experiences a small win against you.

- He fights to make sure he doesn't have any potential of getting too into it.

- Things take a different turn, though, with the double blow of Alastor coming back and his on-off relationship with Valentino once again going up in flames.

- After stopping his usual monitoring of all things going on in hell online and in real life as picked up by his cameras, he presses his face into his hands with a long, exhausted groan as he fights crying.

- All the people he was actually interested in were as unrequited as per usual. He always tried so hard with Alastor, but as always, he never got anything but met with the clear reminder they would never be anything more.

- And, of course, any potential of anything more happening with Val was completely off the table. It would be stupid to even think about anything real with him.

- He shut his eyes, putting his screen on the desk in front of him.

- Was he just not worth it? Was that it?

- He startled when he heard the familiar crackle of the speakers coming to life around him. It was rare he ever heard your voice coming through his speakers, you usually preferring to just leave messages, however you decided to surprise him tonight apparently.

- Your blurred out face appears on the screens, only showing the lower half of your grinning face.

- "Oh Boooooxybooooy! I found some world-shattering cringey shit you did 2 months back, i-" You begin singing out, before stopping, seeing by his expression.

- Vox was trembling, looking as if he was about fall apart at any second. His monitor was dulled, red eyes half lidded with pixelated bags forming under them, his bottom lip slightly quivering around his sharp teeth.

- "What the- fuck- ....are you alright?" You asked unsurely.

- Vox finally snapped out of it, realising that you were here witnessing him in a way that was very much not something he wanted you of all people to see him in. His mask slid back on, but it was hardly convincing.

- "Of course it is. What the fuck do you wa-ant. I've got shit to do." He inwardly cursed as his voice glitched slightly. God fucking dammit why did you have to show up.

- He watched your lips on your mostly blurred out face slightly curl as you hummed, clearly not buying it.

- "You wanna stop with the lying bullshit and tell me the truth, Boxhead?" You somewhat chided him, your hand coming into sight as you leaned your cheek onto it. Vox let out a growling sound, going to spit some vitriol at you, but was cut off as you absentmindedly made your next comment.

"Felt you once again have a fit about the radio demon going online. Lights in my house and the houses out my windows started flashing and shit. Is it hi-" your brows shot up and eyes widened, this hidden behind the censorship as you watched Vox, leader of the Vees, your rival, let out a shuddering breath and actually start crying comically pixilated tears right before your eyes.

- Vox's claws gripped into his desk as he grit his teeth as he let out a gasping breath he fought to stifle. He was so goddamn exhausted that he just couldn't be assed to keep it all up anymore. It wasn't like you hadn't seen rather unsavoury things he'd been trying to hide anyways.

- "No shit it's about Alastor. It's always about him. Does it get you off knowing I can't get with the guy I have always wanted no matter how hard I try? There. Are you fucking happy now?" His voice cracks as he snarls the words out at you.

- You let out a long humming sound, as if thinking. "I mean, not really. I'd only be happy if you were this upset over me, not some old hazbin radio announcer who fell off years ago." You shrug with a slightly sad smile.

- Vox squinted at you, confused.

- "I mean, come on, I'm your rival too. Why neglect me so much in all this?" You press your bottom lip out in mock sadness, tone mocking again. Your words are true despite the joking tone however, it did bother you that he always seemed so much more ready to go running after the most obviously aroace man you think you had seen in your entire fucking life.

- Vox couldn't believe what he was hearing, hot embarrassment caused his monitor to start heating up a bit, painting animated flush over his cheeks. "Oh, stop taking the piss, U. Fuck off." He scoffed, rolling his eyes, looking to the side in irritation.

- You chuckle at him, shaking your head and causing the thing blurring your face to shake with it. "Is it really that hard to believe I'm into what we have going on here?" Your voice is still lined with the usual tone you take on with him, but much less so.

- Vox looks back at your blurred, smiling face incredulously. "Yes." He growled, blinking his tears away as he regained his composure a bit.

- You sigh heavily, rolling your eyes. "Ooookay, well, once you're done riding the coattails of a man who will never want you, come hit me up, Boxhead." You say through smiling lips, before abruptly pressing 'hang up' on the call so he didn't have time to actually respond.

- Vox sat in bewildered silence, not able to react properly as his brain felt as if it was working on low resolution comprehending what you just said.

- His face heated up the more he thought about it, heart beginning to hammer in his chest as he laughed in disbelief. No way. No fucking way.

- But you had said it.

- Despite his usual pessimistic nature, he allowed himself to actually believe it, chuckling.

- He looked over to his phone as a notification sound rang out to see a photo of himself presumably just now; flustered, eyes wide in disbelief and unfocused while staring off into space, a crooked grin on his face.

- It was captioned as follows; 'POV: local pathetic radio simp finds out other rival actually wants him'

- "FUCK." He yelled out in embarrassment, knocking out several of his monitors with a surge of electricity.

I loved writing this sm omfggg.

There's definitely part 2 potential to this one, but it would have to be in a while w all the other stuff I'm gonna get to first.

Masterlist

#vox #vox headcanons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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randomshyperson · 3 months

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R U Mine? - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: A game of cat and mouse begins between an Avenger and a criminal. But perhaps there are no winners, as they both fall.

Warnings: mentions of typical canon violence, hints of abusive past and unhealthy work dynamics, some superhero routine lore, more shapeshifter power mentions, mutual pining, forbidden relationship, some teasing, (first) kiss and then a lot of kisses and steamy make out, some fluff and comedy. | Words: 6.965K

A/N-> How many references to Killing Eve can one put in a story. And also, references to the Witch's Road comics. This here is the extra chapter about their first kiss, enjoy reading.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

Before.

"I know what you're doing."

Three weeks prior, Natasha's sentence would have made her jump with fright. Perhaps she would have tried to hide all those files and lie and lie again, until she could convince herself the whole thing was about the job.

But today? Wanda was tired. She had spent the last few hours stumbling into dead ends, no progress on whatever she was trying to do with all that vague information Shield had on you.

So she lifted her face to the redhead who appeared in her room late at night, two cups of coffee in hand, and chuckled weakly at the statement. It was obvious that the drink was an invitation - perhaps even a sign of 'hey, I'm not trying to start a fight. I want to help,' and Wanda accepted without hesitation.

"It's not like I'm doing a good job of keeping it a secret." She retorts to Nat, who smiles before taking the empty space on the bed. Practically all the Shield files - now labeled Avengers - about you are scattered on the mattress. It's a mess, and to Nat, it makes sense that Wanda hasn't made much progress.

"To be fair, for a first-time Investigation, I think you're doing all right." Says the widow after a sip of her coffee. "You covered your tracks and even used an official justification for researching her. Your mistake was involving Vision."

Wanda sighs. "Let me guess, he talks under pressure?"

Nat chuckles, nodding. Wanda rubs a tension point on her forehead. Taking advantage of this, Natasha gestures to one of the files. "I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do, Maximoff. But this doesn't seem very healthy."

Wanda gives a sad smile, and Nat expects her to defend herself. But instead, the smaller girl sighs. "I know." She murmurs sincerely, forcing a faint smile at the widow. "But I need this, Nat. It's the first time in months that I've managed to think about anything other than Pietro. And I know it doesn't look healthy, but it's all I've got. I'm an Avenger now. Maybe it's just time to get to work, and arrest villains or something."

Natasha frowned at her, absorbing the confession for a moment before rebutting: "Is that what you want to do with Y/N, though? Lock her up?"

Wanda swallows dryly, looking down. "Of course, Nat."

"You're a terrible liar."

The brunette sighs. "I mean it!"

"And I don't believe you." Nat insists in a good mood despite everything. "Look at all this, Wanda. You've been at it for days. Studying her. Did you even remember to eat anything in the last few hours?" Wanda snorts, gesturing to the breakfast leftovers on the dresser in the corner of the room which makes Natasha let out an incredulous laugh. "Wow, a nutritious example you are."

The witch tosses her hair back. "If you've come here to try to babysit me, please leave."

Natasha rolled her eyes and ignored the other woman's stubbornness. She put her coffee down between her crossed legs and started organizing the files.

"You're naturally perceptive and clever, Maximoff. But you lack experience and practice. You need to put together a timeline and find the gaps." The widow began, and masterfully, all the security camera photos, reports from shield agents, and unexplained crimes related to thieves with no identifiable faces began to connect and make sense. "But I must warn you, I did all this years ago. When I started at Shield, your little friend was already some sort of the goose that laid the golden eggs, or stole the gold for the saying to work."

"She's not my friend." Wanda murmured, her gaze fixed on the files so Natasha wouldn't see her blush. The widow ignored the comment and continued talking.

"My point is that I didn't get very far." Nat says with a sigh. "To be honest, it was an insult to my ego. She was just a kid back there. And she managed to flee much more experienced agents. She had endless, untraceable disguises. She doesn't need to impersonate, you know? She can create faces. It makes her almost impossible to monitor. When we met for the first time, it was she who found me." Nat says, swallowing dryly at her own memories. Wanda's eyes widen softly, listening carefully. "I never told this to anyone, but when Clint first met me, he told me that he felt something. As if he knew I wanted to escape. And when I saw Y/N, I had the same feeling."

"What did you do?" Wanda asked and Nat sighed.

"I couldn't do what Clitn did for me, Wanda, I'm sorry." Said the widow sincerely. "She attacked first. And I had to defend myself. It wasn't just protocol, it was all I'd learned to do."

Wanda frowns. "Why are you telling me all this, Nat?"

The redhead sighs. "Because it's important. It means that she doesn't trust easily, and attacks when she feels threatened. She reminds me of both of us, to be honest." Nat comments, getting a small smile from the witch. "Besides, I want you to be really careful if you do dig into this."

"I will."

"I'm serious, Wanda." Insists the redhead. "Careful not to miss a gun hidden in her dress." She remembers the last official report Wanda made, regarding her first mission, the night she simply couldn't stop thinking about, especially after your secret vision to the compound, and the witch swallows dryly. Nat doesn't mind her hesitation. "Careful in a way that you'll use your powers if necessary."

Without looking the widow in the eye, Wanda retorts between her teeth: "I get it, Nat."

"You're not going to carry this on until you look me in the eye, Maximoff. And swear it."

Wanda's stubbornness falters, and she returns her attention to the widow, looking at her seriously. Nat gives her a small smile as she adds, "It's not just Clint who cares about your safety. We all do. I'm not going to allow you to throw yourself headlong into something dangerous just to escape your grief, Wanda. Swear that you'll be very careful, and you'll walk away if it gets too dangerous."

Wanda is surprised by the tenderness, and a little embarrassed. It takes a moment but she finally nods. "I swear." She says before adding. "I want to help Y/N. Like Clint helped you. Not lock her up, like I said before."

Natasha chuckles. "I know, kid. I know."

With the Black Widow’s blessing, she kept digging those files. And Nat didn't lie, you're untraceable. Every time you meet, it's clear that you've let yourself be found. Even with handcuffs on your wrist, you keep smiling as if it was all part of the plan. Judging by the way you always escape from prisons, later going public that some confidential information for the police was stolen, this is easily confirmed.

The Avengers are getting used to the strange persecution, very much because each of them has their secrets. And just like his protégé, Steve Rogers had side missions to pursue Bucky. It would be hypocritical of him to hold anything against Wanda for being after you.

And Wanda couldn't stop. Even after hundreds of dead ends and ridiculous escapes. She had to meet you, and have less than five minutes in your presence with another twelve agents and the whole Avengers present every fortnight when they manage to track you only for you to escape again. She didn't know why, but she had the impression that you looked forward to these moments as much as she did.

Like a little private game of mouse and cat, only you and her were part of.

-&-

There are a hundred things to do in the Capital of Crime.

The most complete list of gambling games imaginable, right down to a mural of targets to be captured.

All these things are at your disposal, and all you can think about is the new addition to the Avengers team.

Wanda Maximoff was born in the country that fell from the sky around the same time that Baron Strucker was playing Pinky and the Brain with your cells in a secret laboratory of the now-destroyed Hydra. A Stark bomb made her an orphan, and after bouncing from orphanage to orphanage, often expelled for getting into trouble with her twin brother, Wanda embarked on protest groups in search of civil rights until she was finally recruited into a human experimentation program that turned her into an enhanced version of herself. She was the only reason for the first time in your life that you wished you hadn't split with Strucker so soon - If you'd still been his puppy instead of the clients he got, you would have met her. You may have become friends.

"She's doing it again." Xu Xialing whispered to Layla, the two engaged in a game of Beat the Hero - a competition of colored cards that contained electronic figures detailing the abilities of real-life superheroes. It was, in a way, training for possible battles in real life, where they learned about their enemies by playing. The two of them were sitting in opposite armchairs, while you were practically lying on the sofa, drinking with a lost look on your face. According to them, fantasizing for the tenth time in a row about the Avenger you met in Italia weeks ago.

Layla giggled when she saw your expression before turning her face to Xu Xialing again. "You know, they say Maximoff has psychic powers. Maybe Y/N is under a spell."

"A love spell, that is." Mocks the Chinese woman, getting a laugh from the other.

You only came out of your trance of thoughts about Wanda with the bell from the private room you were in. Your face changed before the curtain opened, and Xu Xialing was the first to look at the security guard entering, somewhat annoyed at having her private time playing games with friends interrupted.

"Forgive me for intruding, madam. The Countess is here and requests the Sage to join her." The man said, and Xialing nodded in understanding. She turned to you, but there was no need. With a soft leap from the sofa, you got to your feet and took one of Layla's cards from her pile - you threw it on the board and helped her win the game, taking the opportunity to leave the room while the two of them discussed whether the assisted victory had been fair or not.

The Golden Daggers Club was as packed and vibrant as ever. The next round of betting for the fights was due to start soon, and there were a lot of people shouting their bets to the judges, and joining the fight cages, so you had to make some effort to follow the venue's security guard into the special area of the place - where federal agents were given even more privacy to be around.

Contessa Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine was waiting for you alone, but behind a door with six security guards guarding her. Each of them gave you a look of contempt, but you walked past them without any reaction until you were with Valentina in a room with no windows, every inch of which was covered in priceless works of art, many of them stolen throughout history, which you and Layla recovered together in the service of the Ten Rings.

"You wanted to see me, Countess?" was your greeting, softly snarky. You weren't in the best of moods, especially since Valentina had interrupted your rest.

The woman gave you a false smile from the armchair where she was sitting waiting for you. A closed file and a glass of wine lay on the corner table.

"Oh, what a surprise, after your last defeat, I thought you'd given up on Sage." She comments with a certain venom on your disguise, the same one you wore two weeks ago when you went on what she called a streak of bad luck in the Club's fighting competitions, but which Xu Xialing called a distracted lovesick puppy. You try to disguise your clumsiness by clearing your throat.

Checking that the door is closed, you return to your real appearance and Valentina gives you a small but genuine smile.

"What do you want?" you insist, and in response, she pats the file resting on the table. You sigh. "What's this?"

"Last month has been very busy, but I've finally had time to review some of your late missions reports." She begins and you hide your nervousness, knowing full well where this conversation could end. "I apologize for taking so long to check them, darling. I hope you don’t think I’m jeopardizing your learning progress."

"Stop stalling, Valentina, just tell me what the problem is." You retort grumpily but she chuckles, her fingers tracing the paper before she grabs the file.

“Normally, I trust your experience, but I've heard that you've been particularly... antsy in your last few operations. Of course, you've successfully made it out of all of them, after all, we're having this conversation, but for a master of disguise, the increased number of encounters with the Avengers attracted my curiosity. I thought I'd take a closer look at your original encounters with them, and found an interesting passage in your report on Italy two months ago."

The page is already marked and in the next moment, she begins to read;

"My exit was interrupted by the presence of a new Avenger. A woman, perhaps the same age as me. The new, improved one from Sokovia. Average height, brown hair. Green eyes. Intense. Hypnotizing."

You swallow dryly, looking down at your feet. You're grateful to have control over your own body, or Valentina would be able to watch your cheeks blush.

She continues reading. "We faced each other briefly. The girl doesn't have complete control of her abilities, it was a quick fight. I immobilized her and departed in the getaway vehicle. No disguise was compromised, no other witnesses." Valentina narrates, finally raising her eyes from the file to you. "You know what's funny, sweetheart? The Avengers submitted their own report on Sapienza, and Wanda Maximoff describes the encounter with a Shapeshifter in detail. My question is, why are you lying for someone who didn't hesitate to use her special abilities to show her team your real appearance?"

You're caught off guard. A conflict of emotions rises in your chest, from anger to disappointment. It hurts. It's confusing and suffocating, and you feel the urge to start crying. But none of these emotions floats over your expression, your nails digging into your palm are enough to keep everything well buried.

With a soft sigh, you look Valentina in the eye.

"I don't trust the CIA."

Your boss chuckles, closing the file and crossing her legs. It's not exactly her best lie, but it seems to work on her.

"If this is about the Hydra clean-up in the public sector, I can assure you that we're safe." Valentina says. "Besides, your job is to trust me, Y/N. Not the CIA, or the Ten Rings, or any of your contractors. Only me, dear child, must you trust."

You bite your tongue hard, tears almost escaping this time.

"I just..." You try, not knowing exactly what to say. "There was a conflict, and the girl, she beat me. Effortlessly. That energy she possesses revealed my disguise immediately, I had no chance to try another one. So I made a choice, and I omitted the part that I thought would do me any harm. Isn't that what you taught me to do?"

Right answer. Valentina grins, before sighing and standing up. You don't want her to touch you, but she puts her hands on your arms and you resist the urge to pull away.

"I'm proud of you, you're getting cleverer every day. I want you to be this way, Y/N. Strong-willed, resourceful." She compliments you, her hands moving up to your cheeks. You try to smile, but Valentina squeezes your skin tighter. "That doesn't mean you will lie to me. Understand?" She asks but doesn't expect a vocal response. Your nod is more than enough for her to give you a fake smile and loosen her grip. "You're my most valuable employee. I don't want you to put yourself in vulnerable situations without a reason."

Valentina steps away, and you decide to take a chance.

"She's like me." It's more hesitant than you'd like, but it's enough to make your boss raise an eyebrow at you. Swallowing dryly, you continue. "Wanda and her brother were also Strucker's experiments. We are the same. I thought I could-"

Valentina interrupts with a spiteful chuckle that makes you cringe like a frightened child. "The same? Is that what you think?" She retorts in a mocking tone that makes you feel too ashamed to even broach the subject. Leaning her waist on the table, she looks at you. "I know you've been digging through my files on her, Y/N. I don't blame you for being curious, but by now, I imagine you know very well the conditions of the experiments Miss Maximoff was part of. How she volunteered for all that. How can you say you're the same?"

You hesitate uneasily. "I don't mind that she volunteered. War called for desperate measures. I just... I've never met any other of us. Another who survived the Baron. I've been thinking if I could just see her-"

Valentina bursts into laughter, and you fall silent, concentrating so that she can't see your red ears. "See her? Now what's that, huh? Romeo and Juliet of the supers? What an absurd idea, child!" Refutes your boss, still chuckling as she walks away to the table. She finishes her glass of wine in one long gulp, and to your surprise, throws the file in your direction. You catch the item flat against your chest. "The notes the Avengers made about you are on page 24. Read what she said about you, and draw your own conclusions about who you call an equal. I came here to confirm your mental state, and this conversation was enlightening. I'll arrange an assessment."

"Val-"

"It’s not open for discussions Y/N." She cuts you off, a car key already in hand that makes you groan to yourself impatiently. "You're not going back to work until you talk to Doctor Grand."

She leaves without saying another word and you're left alone with the file in your hands. Without hurrying, you flip to the page mentioned earlier and sigh when you find a photograph of Wanda wearing a uniform with the Avengers crest embroidered on it. Below is her statement about the mission.

You trace your fingers over the passage "An extraordinary and dangerous skill from an equally impressive fighter" but hesitate when you read the passages about how she felt scared and unsafe. About how she thought you were aiming at her. About how she felt she failed by not bringing a high-risk criminal into custody.

Your tears finally fall, staining the page before you quickly wipe them away, closing the file tightly after ripping Wanda's photo out.

It was time to wrap up loose ends and get back to your perfect record.

-&-

In the fake drawer hidden on the floor under your bed - safeguards for someone whose apartment is frequently visited by a two-faced countess - you kept some personal things. Hydra's last record of you, small souvenirs from missions, and a photograph of Wanda Maximoff.

And this morning - and any other morning really - you were supposed to ignore that drawer, leave any weapons at home, put on a presentable outfit, and meet Valentina in the lobby promptly at 10 o'clock. She would take you by car to Dr. Grant's office who would do a standard assessment of your mental state that would tell whether or not you were fit to return to work.

But instead, you took the photo of Wanda out of its hiding place and put it in your pocket. You stood up, walked through your closet, and chose the least flashy backpack you owned. Then you armed yourself with three different types of knives and two pistols in a chest holster, very similar to that of American detectives. And speaking of the police, your drawer of false documentation provided by Valentina was studied without haste until you had in your pockets the identity of a Shield agent who never existed but was meant to be a little tribute to the job you were performing today.

With your disguise ready, you left the apartment two hours before your scheduled meeting with Valentina, and you had barely boarded the ferry when she called you.

"Our appointments aren't something to be skipped, young lady." Stated the woman seriously, but you gave her a weary sigh.

"I don't wish to see Doctor Grant."

Valentina chuckled, as you handed your ticket to the clerk passing in the corridors. On the other end of the line, she then spoke;

"You're not getting away with this, Y/N. I'm not authorizing your return to work until Roland confirms to me that your mental state is stable for you to continue."

You prop your feet up on the seat, switching your cell phone to another ear. "Val, I'm not running away, I promise. I just needed a break. Give me a few days, okay? Reschedule the visit, I'll be there. I'll even be there early."

She pauses thoughtfully, you can hear her breathing. And then she sighs in defeat and you smile. "Okay. If it's any encouragement, your next service is already being prepared. It's something you've never stolen before, and I'd like it to be yours. Of course, if you prove suitable."

A few weeks ago, the temptation would have been too much and you would have turned around and gone to the appointment just to win Grant's approval and be cleared for the job. To prove not only to Valentina, but to the world, and to any other colleague, that you could complete that mission.

But now you let out a short laugh, and that surprises Valentina enough for her to keep quiet. "Reschedule for the end of the week. I guarantee that I'll have Dr. Grant's approval and you'll have your order in no time."

The promise seems to be enough for her, and after another sigh, Valentina hangs up. You put your cell phone away and return your attention to the now-stamped train ticket to New York.

The trip didn't take long, and within a few hours, you were in the bustling city. Especially today, at the inaugural Heroes of Earth celebration event, Manhattan was almost chaotic.

With fans and journalists from all over the world filling the streets that had been closed off for a sort of open-air Comic Con, you had no trouble at all going unnoticed in the crowd. You wore a disguise, of course, but you didn't have to. A few minutes into the fair, you really did look like a tourist, with your Avengers sweatshirt, cap, and colorful glasses.

The knives in your backpack were well hidden under the amount of superhero souvenirs you got.

You were trying to choose between an Incredible Hulk smash-burger or a portion of Thor's worthy chicken when the bell announcing the photo session with the Avengers was about to start.

Your appetite disappeared, anxiety taking over your whole body at once.

It was time to move.

The queue was huge, as was to be expected. At least, most of them were there for the best-known Avengers. Thor wasn't even on Earth, which meant that the other five originals were competing with each other over who got the most autographs. The new members, like Wanda, the Falcon, or Vision, were given presentation stands but had much more free time at the event.

You tried to ignore the pang of pride when you saw that among the new members, the queue of people to see Wanda was the longest. A considerable number of children were very excited to ask her to do magic tricks.

Your strawberry milkshake - Black Widow's Special - almost fell out of your hand when you finally saw Wanda leave the curtains dividing the dressing rooms and join the autograph table.

She wasn't wearing the soft hoodie with the Avengers symbol from the photograph you sneak a peek at almost every night, nor was she wearing the pathetic disguise she wore the first time you saw her. No, somehow, she managed to look prettier. Like all her teammates, she was wearing an outfit similar to the official fighting uniform, probably designed just for the event. With a black tactical outfit covered by a red jacket, the gloves that didn't cover her fingers were probably your favorite part.

Despite her relatively unfriendly uniform, Wanda offered such lovely smiles to the people who came to greet her that you thought the milkshake made you sick, judging by the way your stomach and heart were unsettled.

When the Meet & Greets began, you had to go to the ticket booth and buy a single ticket in cash; to meet Wanda, of course.

It would take place back in the fair's improvised dressing rooms, and after waiting for almost forty minutes, you were finally guided inside. Your backpack wasn't searched, perhaps because your weapons were hidden by Ten Rings technology, a gift from Xu Xialing on your last assignment, and when it went through the X-ray at the entrance, all they detected were the countless fair toys you had acquired. And the knives hidden in your body, well, it's obvious to say that when it comes to changing aspects of your anatomy for any situation, passing a security search was quite easy.

"Miss Maximoff will be here in a minute. She had a little problem with her costume, the children who came in before you caused a little milkshake accident."

One of the organizers informed you, and you gave her a kind smile, commenting that the Black Widow special was essential, even if it might cause minor accidents. The employee chuckled before going to answer a call on her communicator that could have been your intentional flooding of one of the toilets to occupy as many of the staff as possible.

Wanda's dressing room was the most intimate environment of hers you've ever been in. It didn't have many things, of course, but for someone who only had access to government documents, it was paradise.

Curious fingers traced all the belongings you could reach, from more comfortable pieces of clothing for her to change into during the event, to different types of tea and books, until you found a music device.

The password protection on a Stark Industries MP3 player made you laugh to yourself. "What a distrustful little witch." You murmured affectionately, stowing the item in your jacket pocket and moving over to the schedule board.

You had already read the row that marked the start of the Meets, probably described there and in all the other dressing rooms, when your gaze caught a small notebook forgotten in one of the armchairs.

You got the chance to take it in hand and smile at the sketches on the first few pages before the item was suddenly lifted and pulled out of your hand.

"Sorry, but this is private." Wanda grabbed the item out of the air, but you stood there, static like a frightened animal, unable to breathe properly under her gaze. She seemed to realize that she had been too harsh and huffed out a laugh, the notebook clutched tightly against her chest. The sound made you swallow. "I shouldn't have kept you waiting, I guess you got bored. Sorry about that. Let me put this away, and we can, um, get started."

She didn't use magic to return the book to a safe place, you didn't know that yet, but Wanda was still learning to trust her powers. And if she could help it, she usually didn't use them.

She approached you, to put the book away in a bag that you didn't have a chance to peek into, and the sudden movement made your body react in alarm. Your back hit the schedule board, and Wanda frowned, stopping in her tracks with an almost hurt look on her face.

"You don't have to be scared. I'm not going to hurt you, you know." She murmured with the tips of her ears red. "I'm just going to put my notebook away, you see." The backpack floated towards her with a tug, and Wanda hardly met your gaze after that. She tossed the bag into a corner of the room and fiddled uncomfortably with the edge of her blouse.

She was no longer wearing the outfit she'd worn before, she was wearing a comfortable set, too soft and domestic for you to be calm-minded about anything.

You forced your brain to work because you thought the whole thing was getting ridiculous.

"I'm not scared." Your voice comes out very hoarse, so you clear your throat. Wanda raises her eyes, finally, and the green irises make your cheeks warm. You don't hide it from her. "As a matter of fact, I'm not the one who usually gets scared when we meet, am I, Maximoff?"

Taking the time she needed to understand, you removed your colored glasses and cap, your face changing back to its original appearance. Wanda sighed shakily as soon as she recognized you.

"Hi, Y/N." She greeted, too sweet for you to do anything but smile shyly, forgetting for a moment exactly what you had come for.

"Hello, Wanda." You tried to sound just as gentle, but you must have done a poor job, to blame it on your body that doesn't seem to be working properly. Wanda swallows dryly, her hands moving slowly in the air. You watch the unhurried gesture - the way her fingers draw the air, and how the items of disguise float away to the armchair, and in your hands appear handcuffs that don't prevent you from moving them, and don't hurt either. The most you feel is a tickle.

"I've come all this way, just for you to put me in chains, little witch." You try to tease her, and you think it's a victory the way Wanda tries to hide a smile, approaching with her head down until she's close enough to touch you.

Her hands should be gripping the magical handcuffs, but instead, they hold yours. Wanda sighs.

"You can't be here." She whispers, meeting your eyes, and you think it's ridiculous that you made any plans at all. You could never do anything to harm Wanda, and that was just the truth. "Then why are you?"

Unlike her, you don't hide your smile. You shrug as if your heart wasn't thumping in your chest, and revel in playing with Wanda's buttons.

"I was in the neighborhood. Wanted to say hi." Your casual reply makes her snort impatiently.

Her hands release yours, and you raise an eyebrow at Wanda's audacity to start searching you.

"Wow, take me on a date first, love." You joke, but despite the new color her cheeks acquire due to the joke, the fond nickname, Wanda doesn't stop. She gropes in your pockets, reaches into your jacket, and grimaces with disapproval at every illegal item she finds. The false documents, the Shield badge, the guns. The MP3 is in the front pocket and Wanda gets a little closer to reach it, enough so that you have to lick your lips trying to control the instinct to break the distance. She just looks so kissable and smells so good.

She offers you an incredulous look at the stolen item, which floats back to the table as she gropes for the other pocket. Finding the train ticket, she lets out a short laugh.

"Six hours of travel is not being in the neighborhood." She comments, raising her eyes to you.

"What do you want me to say?" You retort with a little smile, discourteously glancing between her eyes and her lips. "That I couldn't help myself and had to get on the first train to see you again? That I can't even go back to work because I can't stop thinking about you?"

There's this thing that Wanda's eyes do. The pupils get huge, and the green darkens. And she looks at you as if you were something to be devoured in every detail as if you were worth admiring. As if you were worth any of her time.

She speaks again, so low and hoarse that you wouldn't be able to hear her if you weren't close.

"Your thoughts are loud. Are you always so hard on yourself?"

You swallow dry, caught off guard. Your hesitation makes Wanda sigh. She looks ready to apologize when you nod.

"It doesn't matter, every time we bump into each other, you make me feel different. Better. You look at me as if you can see more. What do you see, Wanda?"

She sighs deeply, and her hands move to touch your face. It's too gentle, and affectionate in a real and true way that you never experience. Your body goes rigid, not knowing how to handle the tenderness, but Wanda doesn't catch any request for her to stop touching, so her hands continue to hold your cheeks.

"I can see your anger, just as I can see your fear. I see the thief, and the murderer, but I can also see only you. No disguises, no lies. The person you are underneath it all." She says, swallowing dryly as she lets her gaze fall to your lips. "This is the person I let get away. And the person I'd like to meet, if you'll let me."

Your chest is heavy with confusing feelings. Your traumas beep in unison, your defenses beg you to push Wanda away and flee before the rest of the Avengers decide to show up.

But instead, you return watery eyes to Wanda and gasp softly; "Why? Why do you care?"

And Wanda tries to lie. "I think you could use a friend."

You chuckle dryly, pulling away from the touch. "Hard pass." You mutter, but Wanda doesn't let you move away entirely. She decides to risk everything.

She grabs your chin and tilts your face towards her. It's a miscalculated kiss, you both flinch and gasp at the first contact of your lips and being taken by surprise makes you lose your balance in the middle of the movement to get away from her.

You fall into the armchair, and Wanda should apologize, but she doesn't even bother. She pushes your tense shoulders and straddles your lap, this time, when her mouth meets yours, it's much hungrier and more determined.

The handcuffs disappear into thin air with the first gasp that leaves her lips, and you waste no time in grabbing her waist, roughly pulling her down and holding her tight against you as your mouths move together. It's a passionate kiss full of urgency, charged with all the tension you've built up.

Your tongue slides into her mouth without warning, more experienced than Wanda, you manage to get a whimper out in no time. She wants to shrink away from the sound, but your hands slide down to grab her ass and pin her down onto your front, and suddenly all she can do is moan.

It seems absurd that you've gone a lifetime without kissing Wanda Maximoff when you both seem molded to do this with perfection.

You don't even move apart to breathe, a battle of restless hands and hungry mouths panting against each other. Wanda begins to grind herself into your lap in search of friction and you let out a sound you didn't know you could make.

Everything is suddenly so hot that Wanda doesn't hear her surroundings. She doesn't hear the curtain or the footsteps. But she definitely hears the machine man's surprised exclamation.

"Oh, forgive me, Wanda." Vision's back is turned the second he catches a glimpse of what's happening in that armchair.

Wanda jumps away as if she's received a jolt, and you groan in displeasure at the interruption. Despite the way every cell in your body seems to be vibrating with euphoria, you manage subtle changes in your face that prevent the Synthesized from recognizing you if he decides to turn around. "I didn't mean to interrupt-"

"Vis, please leave." She demands with ragged breathing, her face bright red. Wanda looks neither at you nor at Vision.

The man clears his throat, stuttering. "Of course, Wanda, I'm so sorry." He says, but although he mentions leaving, he doesn't. Stopping just before the curtain, he risks a glance over his shoulder. "There was a forced distraction with criminal indications in the western sector, the fair has already been interrupted. The captain has asked everyone to gather for a patrol check, in case there's an attempted attack. I just wanted to warn you. It would be appropriate to send your... friend away." explains the machine, exchanging a quick glance with Wanda before leaving the dressing room.

You'd like to kiss her again, but Wanda sniffles at Vision's departure and you frown in a mixture of concern and confusion.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" She deduces annoyed. "To try a bloody attack on a children's fair? God, I’m so stupid. You’re obviously using me to distract your partners-”

But you stood up with an impatient sigh for the anxious and nervous conclusions of an avenger who has been caught in the act.

You grab Wanda again and kiss her hard enough for her to lose her balance, and she ends up pressed against the schedule board, and then the coffee table, each kiss more desperate and heated than the last.

Your thigh presses between hers, and Wanda practically meows at the friction. You love how responsive she is to your touch, and you try to push a little further under her clothes, quickly addicted to attracting more sounds.

And you're almost to the edge of her bra when you're interrupted again.

"Jesus, Maximoff, what the hell is going on here?" Unlike Vision, Natasha Romanoff is much more serious and determined to put an end to the whole thing. And she cares little about what was happening against the table. You hide the change in your features on Wanda's shoulder, while also trying to control your own breathing, somehow much more aroused than before. "We're working, Maximoff. There may be terrorists on the perimeter and you're here, well, I'm not judging, I'm just saying there's an appropriate time for everything. I'm sure your friend will survive if you let go of her mouth for a few hours. Who knows, maybe next time you can meet in a more appropriate place?"

When you finally look at Nat, you can see that she's hiding a teasing little smile. You're glad that Wanda is making friends.

And unlike you, who doesn't mind having been caught not once but twice by the Avengers, Wanda looks like an embarrassed tomato who nods quickly while her magic does the work of adjusting your half-open clothes and leaving the objects you bump into in order again.

"Of course, Natasha, I'll send her away. I'm sorry." Wanda practically pushes you out, dragging you to a more secluded area at the back of the dressing rooms.

She tries unwillingly to resist your eager hands or the quick but intense kisses you steal from her on the way.

"You have to go." She struggles to gasp, her hands pushing your shoulders to stop the whole thing or she wouldn't be able to think.

Wanda with her hair disheveled after a proper make-out session, her face flushed and her lips swollen is too much for you.

"Fuck." You gasp and she swallows.

"What?"

You don't know what to say, nothing seems enough. She's awakened something in you that you didn't know existed. Suddenly, the idea of staying away from her seems an impossibility.

"When will I see you again?"

She frowns at the question, laughing nervously. "We shouldn't have seen each other even today."

But your hands pull her by the waist. "Nonsense. We should definitely do this again.” Your lips trail down her jaw, to the sensitive points on her neck that you're trying to memorize. She sighs, and struggles to keep her eyes open, but only for a moment before she pushes you away again, laughing shyly.

"Please, darling, I need to get back, my job-"

"There's no attempt attack, I flooded a toilet so I'd have time to see you." You clarify quickly and Wanda has to shake her head and laugh incredulously.

"You're nuts."

"Honestly? Yes. I think I've figured out what was wrong with me over the last weeks. You’re driving me nuts, Wanda Maximoff. I can't stop thinking about you." You retort quickly, not caring about the irregular beating of your pulse, nor the way she blushes heavily. "I need to know when I'm going to see you again."

She looks back into the dressing rooms and can see that Natasha is coming out through the curtain. She approaches you at once to give you one last intense kiss and whispers goodbye on your lips as you part.

With every inch of skin that Wanda touched vibrating and your heart pounding in your chest, you only remember to regulate your powers and return to a disguise a good few minutes after she has disappeared from sight, and hope that no security cameras saw you there.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #heart shaped series #wanda maximoff series #elizabeth olsen x reader

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baiwu-jinji · 4 days

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TGCF author's notes translation

@/camilikha on twitter kindly provided links to TGCF author's notes and I translated the ones I find informative and interesting. See translations below:

chapter 58 notes: The second book is all about the overconfident Xie Lian with delusions of grandeur and the tender little flower (mxtx means kid Hua Cheng) and their diaries of the downfall of Xianle. Word count is undecided, I'm never accurate at estimating word counts anyway. It's just like the xianxia I write doesn't fit into your regular xianxia, the royalty I write doesn't fit into your regular fictional depictions of royalty - just the outlandish made-up worlds and social customs in the author's imagination...

chapter 60 notes: If we put Qi Rong in a modern context, we could say that he has bipolar disorder.

chapter 72 notes: about the chapter title "To Meet You in the Mortal Realm; to Find Flowers Beneath the Rain" - eventually I feel that "To Meet You" is more romantic than "To Meet Someone". Just think about it, "meeting you" is one of the most romantic things in the world.

chapte 80 notes: Of course (HC) won't give (XL) a handjob or help him [...], but Huahua's sexual awakening starts with this incident... (XL is seriously obssessed with martial arts combat!)

chapter 88 notes: Xie Lian never gets tanned, I envy him... I finally reached this place - in a dilapidated temple, a god about to be forgotten and a believer who's still young - this is the first mental image I have about this story, which drove me to wrote the story. I'm the kind of person who'd make up a whole book just to get to write a certain passage...

chapter 119 notes: Actually Huahua is just being naughty and wants to joke around playing dead, who'd have thought...

chapter 123 notes: So Black Water made his appearance long ago, he's been hanging around before your eyes all along. Wind Master never knew the real Mingyi, it's always been the same person before him - and before you readers. (Black Water) officially recognized as Best Actor of this story! I've been holding it a secret for so long and so has he, now I can finally let it out.

chapter 141 notes: If you heat up Huahua in the kiln, he'll grow bigger~

chapter 175 notes: "Hua Cheng! Your diary! We've read it all!!!"

chapter 229 notes: Huahua low-key sucking up to the elderly to make a good impression

chapter 242 notes: Why do you like to spook yourselves? - why on earth would there be such plots as (XL) waiting for another 800 years - too long, impossible! Happy ending is around the corner!

SVSSS is my first work so it has some exceptions that I won't discuss here, but MDZS and TGCF both only have one main couple. I said this repeatedly in the author's notes when MDZS was being serialized and in other places. As for Mo Xuanyu, he is a little gay dude but he died at the beginning of the story so he doesn't count as a serious character...It's fine to have headcanons you like as long as you don't seperate the main couple. But for me personally, my taste leans towards having only one gay couple in the story, and I have no plans to write about another secondary couple. I'm stating this to avoid some unnecessary disputes.

XL is good at making pickled vegetables. Because pickled vegetables are needed with steamed bun and rice porridge, so XL became quite experienced after practicing for hundreds of years. Also you can just leave the pickled vegetable by itself most of the time and let it undergo chemical reaction. XL mostly fail because he get inventive.

XL and Mu Qing chose the same path of cultivation and are both Daoists. But Feng Xin never studied under a master at the Holy Royal Pavillion so he's not a Daoist and simply a plebeian martial god, so he doesn't need to observe the celibacy rules like XL and Mu Qing.

My passion for inventing new dishes (or rather weapons) cooked by Xie Lian is only slightly less than my passion for making Huahua change into new clothes

Huahua often turn into human forms, in which he has two eyes, so you guys can stop counting the number of his eyes.

In the setting of this story, if you want to be a god,you need to be a human hero first, which means you need to be the best of the best among humans. Only heaven officials who ascended are real heaven officials and belong in the Upper Court. How do you ascend? Firstly it depends on your personal ability, you have to be outstanding in some aspect (such as martial arts or literary talents) to enter the path of ascension. Secondly it depends on luck, if you're extremely lucky and a favourite of fate, and just picked up some rare secret guides (to ascension) or immortal pills by the roadside, that works too. Officials in the Middle Court are appointed, which means someone in the Heavenly Realm could promote you to that position. But Middle Court officials have the opportunity to become a bona fide Upper Court official too if they're capable enough.

Black Water indeed owes Hua Cheng a huge sum of money and is a very impoverished Calamity, seriously lowering the income standard of the Calamities (although there're only three of them). But his debt isn't completely due to eating too much. As for the money Black Water owes, it's an ancient debt - 40% is the cost of buying gifts for heaven officials of Upper Court and planting agents there (bribery!), 30% is maintenance fee for his territory and expenses on pet food, the rest 30% is food (for himself).

Talismans are probably the equivalent of the business cards (of heaven officials)... "Hello this is my consecrated talisman" = "hello this is my business card"

You can't get rid of ghostly essence (which XL is tainted with because he spends too much time with HC) simply by brushing your teeth with plain water...you need to use consecrated spell water (which is super bitter and weird).

The weapon forged by a heaven official is called fabao (literally "dharma treasure"); if it's a weapon forged by mortal Daoists and monks, it's called faqi (literally "dharma tool") - only after their ascension can their weapons be called fabao.

In my imagination, Xianle ia the kind of small ancient kingdom that's overall culturally Han, but has peculiar customs...although I feel like what I wrote on Xianle is mostly just peculiar hahahaha [facepalm] [beat myself up]

Not only are the forms, customs, cultures, and politics of countries in this story made-up, the kind of arcane stuff like occult sciences and philosophical values are all made-up. Although I did research but the records I consulted are too difficult to understand, so I just made things up on my own. Please bear with me If you're knowledgable in this sort of thing hahaha.

Puqi refers to water chestnut.

Look up "Blood-Soaked Fire Social" (xue she huo) if you're interested, it exists in real life and is very thrilling. What I wrote is different from the traditional festival, there're some made-up elements to make it more exciting

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian

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honeesucker · 5 months

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Part 8 -

Pairing: ProHero!DynaMight | Katsuki Bakugo x Puppygirl!Reader

Word count: 3,259

Series Content Warnings: Little bit of a slow start… Graphic Depictions of Past Abuse & Trauma Response | Profuse Usage of Pet Names / All-around Softness | Bakugo Experienced Work-Related Trauma (causing near deafness, being put on leave from the agency, PTSD) | Eventual smut™ (will be tagged in individual chapters - to include but not limited to KiriBaku, HybridxHybrid, Hybrid heat trope, sex toy usage).

Chapter Content Warnings: Bakugo x reader sex, dirty talk, "just the tip" late-night quickie.

*Not proofread.

Previous | Next (In Progress)

Bakugo had gotten you back to the apartment, the car ride weighed down in silence; Kirishima opting to leave after he walked you both up, knowing this was a moment he shouldn't intrude upon but promising again to come and have a movie night with you soon.

You were sitting on the couch, in the same spot Kirishima had set you down. Your eyes unfocused, vision blurring as you blink slowly, staring at nothing as your body buzzes with... something.

Fear? Disgust? Disappointment?

You couldn't ascertain which one it was, or if it was all of them at once, all you knew is that you didn't hear Bakugo speaking, just a mumbled white noise of sound until he was sitting next to you on the couch, pulling you into his lap as he nosed as your temple and whispered in your ear.

"Talk to me, Pup," he said softly. His deep, low baritone reverberating through your body like a pleasant hum.

"I-I..." you tried to start a thought, but all words failed you. Nothing seemed fitting enough to express exactly what you felt. "I-I... think... I-I'm s-sad." You stuttered through the words softly, your eyes closing as the unfocused blur of your vision became dizzying. Bakugo's arms tightened around you, compressing your arms to your side like what you did to him before - deep compression therapy. He held you like this for the longest time, but a glance at the clock only showed just under an hour had passed.

"I know sad doesn't quite cut what I'm sure you're feeling, but we prepared for this, yeah?" Bakugo said softly. "You'll keep seeing Hana, but let's go every week instead of every other week. I've already got the restraining order filed with Hana’s help, and we should be receiving the official document soon... and we have each other. You're safe. I will never let that scumbag, or any other bastard ever lay a single finger on you, okay?" Bakugo jostled your body gently, coaxing a response from you as your mind wandered.

You just nodded, a soft 'okay' leaving your lips as you melted back into his encompassing hold.

You trusted Bakugo, you knew he meant what he said, and never added in any fluffy extra wording, or beat around the bush... if he said you were safe, that no one would touch you again, he meant it.

Yet you couldn't stop the worry eating at the back of your mind. Bakugo was strong, and powerful and fearsome, but so was he, and if he still had half the contacts he had before he went to prison, he was still just as dangerous... but would he really come after you? You did try to keep him in prison with your appeal at his probationary hearing... and he was one to hold a grudge until he got even - you had seen it countless times with the people who worked for him, entered deals with him, tried to get one over on him.

He always won in the end.

"Hey, stop that." You heard Bakugo's stern, comforting tone. You blinked the frightening visions away from your mind as you looked up at him, a question in your gaze that he answered. "Stop thinking of the worst-case scenarios, get out of your head, Pup... no matter what happens, I have you. Okay?" Bakugo had a strange way of being stern, strict and intimidating but also soft and composed, the surety in his voice a calming center as he stared down at you with harsh, dominating eyes. Determination and confidence oozing from him. "He won't ever lay a finger on you again, Pup," he finished again with a hardened resolve.

You nodded. "S-Sorry, yes... I... I trust you." Bakugo just balked and shook his head.

"No apologies, Pup, you're allowed to feel what you're feeling after that shitshow, but you can't let it take over - right? You can't drown in it..." Bakugo was talking to both him and you, at this point. Reassuring you while comforting himself as you leaned against his chest, your body relaxed in his lap as you nodded. He sought out and found just as much comfort in you being close to him as you did to him, it helped keep the sparking crackle out of his palms, helped keep the white noise and the deafening rings out of his mind.

"Thank you," you finally said softly, looking up to nose gently at his chin, a comforting nuzzle as you kissed his jaw, then his cheek, and then the corner of his lips. "Thank you for choosing me and dealing with all of my problems and loving me still."

"Tch, nothing to thank me for, Pup... I'd choose you a hundred times over again and again, b-but..." he paused for a moment, hesitation mixed in his normally confident gaze. "Thank you for choosing me back, Pup, for loving me too... and being a source of comfort for me. We help each other, yeah?" Bakugo asked softly, jostling you on his knee as you giggled and smiled up at him, nuzzling back into the crook of his neck.

"Yeah, we do." You said softly, closing your eyes as you took in his strong scent, allowing it to fill your body and calm you down until nothing bad was left in your body, no tightly wound anxiety, no worrying spiral of panicked thoughts... just him.

You fell asleep in his arms, sinking into his warm comfort.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You woke up late into the night. Looking over at the alarm clock on the nightstand it read that it was 11:49 P.M., and suddenly you realize you were tucked into Bakugo's bed, the mix of clean skin musk and caramel notes and the cologned scent of his deodorant floating into your sensitive nose as you pressed your face against the pillow.

His pillow.

You sucked in greedy breaths of air as something in you stirred, a growing need and soon you were slowly reaching down to run your three center fingers along the outside of your clothed pussy as you kept your face in his pillow; a quiet, choked moan leaving your lips as your ears perked up at the sudden squeaking sigh of a floorboard sounded off behind you... close behind you.

"You in heat already again, Pup?" Bakugo uttered softly, curiously, not accusatory or mocking.

You shook your head slowly, a pout on your sweet face as your bottom lip jutted out a bit, eyes teary in frustration looking back up at Bakugo dressed only in low-hung joggers, a clean pair. "N-No... not in heat just... your smell. You smell so good." You said softly as you nosed again at his pillow, and he quirked a brow looking down at you with his muscled arms crossed over his large chest.

“Yeah, Pup? I smell that good huh?" Bakugo teased softly as he came around the bed, the material sinking beneath his weight as he laid on his side, looking down at your pathetic display. "I smell so good to you that even a whiff of my pillow has you desperate to touch yourself?" He teased again, and you could feel the soft blush flush your cheeks and the tips of your ears warm and embarrassed. "You wanna come smell it straight from the source, hm?" Bakugo asked, knowing where this would end up, but he didn't care. He was head over heels for you, he wanted to protect you, he wanted to shower you with love... but he also wanted to fold you in half and press his weight down as he fucked his thick cock into your slick pussy... the idea of it made him groan as he threw his head back, his eyes screwed shut tight as he tried to cap his growing desire.

Your eyes widened, and you nodded. Crawling up onto him as he pulled you on top of him, as he shifted his body to lay on his back. Your legs on either side of his hips as you leaned forward to nose and nuzzle at his throat where his scent was the strongest...something about pulse points were so inviting. You took to the delicate skin of his throat quickly as you alternated between long lapping licks, and nosing nuzzles against his throat and without realizing it you had been grinding your clothed pussy down against the growing bulge beneath you. Bakugo's large hands were gripping the plush of your hips, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your sleep shorts as he gripped your flesh with a bruising force.

"Fuuuuck, Pup," Bakugo moaned out softly when you started nipping at his skin after a long lick up his throat, and as you did you ground down on his lap, the slick of your pussy soaking through your shorts and onto his pants as you started moving faster, guided by Bakugo's hands. "That's it, Pup, take whatever the hell you want from me." He growled out, bucking his hips upwards and bumping back up into your heated core as he felt your teeth clamping down on the soft skin connecting his neck to his shoulder. His hands fully gripping your ass cheeks, pulling them apart as he gripped the soft material of your shorts in the center and pulling. The soft material split down the middle with no resistance as you whimpered at the loss of warmth, but also at the primal display. Bakugo grunted and shifted his legs, and with one hand moved his joggers down and off his legs while keeping you on top of him. He threw the tattered material of your shorts against the wall, the torn material sliding down the wall and to the ground without an audience as Bakugo's focus was now solely on you, and the way your slick pussy was now gliding up and down the length of his painfully hard cock, the head catching against your hole every now and again making you whimper. Each time the veins and ridges of his cock caught your clit you keened, whining as you pressed back down against him, your eyes bright and needy as you glanced up at him, panting softly with your tongue lolled out of your mouth. Bakugo couldn't help the way he reached forward, cupping your cheek as his thumb pressed down against your tongue, groaning as you closed your mouth and swirled your tongue around the intruding digit.

"P-Pl-lease..." you panted out softly around his finger, each word enunciated carefully. "W-Want cock pl-lease..." you whined and pressed down against him, the fat tip of his cock barely pressing into your cunt as you moaned out softly, and then cried as he lowered his hips, angling them away from your pussy as you glared up at him.

He was looking down at you with a pleased look, smug and demanding, an arrogant arch to his brow as he chuckled down at the pathetic sight of you.

"Fuck yourself just on the tip, Pup," Bakugo said softly, a rumble in his words as he bucked his hips back up again, the tip of his cock slippery and coated in a mixture of his precum and your slippery juices. His hands came back on your hips, squeezing the fat there as he urged your body back down. He could hear the squelching airy sound as his cockhead entered your cunt, and the wet pop as it pulled out; your hips barely balancing above his cock as you lowered back down again, repeating the action over and over until you were too weak to keep your body up. Your legs were shaky and weak, and within a moment you were spearing your full weight down as his thick cock spread you apart, his tip pressing painfully against your cervix with an aching pleasure as he groaned out with the feel of your pussy walls warm, wet, enveloping him completely. “Such a greedy Pup...” Bakugo groaned out, gripping your hips tighter as he bucked up causing your body to fall forward as he fucked up into you roughly with a symphony of wet squelching sounds and airy slaps of skin until you both were moaning out together; Bakugo a lower growling groan and you a sweet high moan as you bit down on his shoulder as your orgasm slammed into you unexpectedly. You squirted slick juice around his cock, wetting his lap as he continued to fuck up into you, his hips stuttering and soon he was pressing deep into you as his cock twitched and pulsed with his own release, hot white cum flooding your pussy and dripping out and around his cock with your juices in a lewd mixture.

Your teeth were still digging down in Bakugo’s shoulder as he reached a hand up to pat at the back of your head gently, threading his fingers into your hair to scratch at your scalp gently. “Good Pup,” Bakugo let out breathlessly, his cock still left softening in your pussy as he enjoyed the still-spasming warmth of your cunt. “Let’s go take a quick shower and I’ll clean up the rest of the bed, huh?” Bakugo muttered gently against your temple, kissing you sweetly in the spot as he nuzzled his own face against yours, you just hummed in response, your tail wagging lazily against his leg.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

An easy three months have passed with an almost mundane normalcy. Kirishima and TetsuTetsu have been over multiple times for playdates, movie nights and after-patrol dinners. Bakugo even took you into his office a few days over the last couple of weeks on the days you didn’t go and see Hana at the Hybrid Rehabilitation Facility for your weekly therapy. Everything seemed to be on an upward trajectory as far as both of your healings. Bakugo kept taking you to regular check-ups to ensure your physical health was also healing alongside your mental health, and Bakugo even went to all his rehabs, check-ups and therapy, too, without so much as a grumble. He was happy to heal, if it meant healing alongside you and getting better together for each other... in contrast to nearly a year ago when Bakugo couldn’t imagine this working out, he was surprised even with himself as he made leaps and bounds in his recovery; a bit more of his hearing returned, there was less and less white noise and high-pitched ringing, and the Hero Support specialists were coming up with a high-frequency hearing aid that Bakugo could use that would aid in his hearing while protecting his ears from the loud blasts of his quirk and the outside world crumbling around him nearby in his daily Pro Hero work.

All in all, it was picturesque... but your life wasn’t such a smooth road, and good things have a way of being balanced with the bad, and your bad day came in the form of a shopping trip out with Bakugo.

You and Bakugo needed essentials and some groceries for the house, and before anything perishable was picked up, he offered to take you looking around for anything you’d enjoy having: new clothes, toys, books, anything at all. Bakugo had stayed back to look at some new knives and pans for the kitchen, while you wandered the store slowly looking around to see if anything caught your interest when a scent caught your nose. The burning, acrid scent of cigarettes and cologne, and the underlying musk of a person you long since had forgotten about in your recent peaceful months. “Hey, mutt.” A familiar, deep drawl rang out. You froze in your spot, a soft plush bear in your hands that you had grabbed from the shelf now served as your center of balance and focus, of peace as you strangled the soft toy in your white-knuckled grip.

Sharp, cold grey eyes regarded you with disdain and disgust. The over-gel'd slick back black hair greasy and catching the bright fluorescent light of the store as he stood in front of you with two other men flanking him a few feet back, pretending to look through items on a shelf as he spoke to you.

“You look good, mutt,” he said out in a smooth, sleazy tone. “Fatter even, guess that new guy’s feeding you well huh? Looks good though, nice soft flesh...” He kept talking, but his voice hooked in your head and reverberated throughout, overwhelming you like a nightmarish echo chamber. You wanted to whimper, whine out, scream, cry, growl, bite him... anything to protect yourself and get him away from you. Your head was spiraling when a strong hand clasped around your shoulder from behind and a sharp, angry voice spoke over you. One that was scarier than his, but you weren’t afraid of it.

“I’ll be informing your probation officer of this infringement on the terms of your release, and the restraining order we have on you.” Bakugo’s venomous, harsh tone rang out above you, sending a shiver down your spine. “Now, kindly fuck off before I blast that smirk off your face and leave you eating and breathing through tubes.” Your body sunk back against Bakugo as you sought comfort in his familiar scent and the hard contours of his body that always seemed to welcome you, and fit against you perfectly. “Now, you have ten seconds to fuck off,” Bakugo barked out, glaring at the men.

“Now, now, that’s not very generous of you.” He stated coldly, his friendly demeanor dropping.

“This is me being generous, prick, now leave before I utilize my right to arrest you and get detectives out here for you and your sorry entourage.” Bakugo nodded at the men behind him, glaring with equal ire at them as they twin men dropped their items and looked between Bakugo and their boss. Bakugo’s palms were sparking off with the desire to just blast this sorry sack of human to the depths of hell, but he knew a fight and more trauma isn’t what you needed – but you did need to be removed from this situation quickly.

Bakugo kept a hard stare levelled at the sleaze before the sleaze cockroach finally lifted his hands up in defeat, and slowly backed away with his men, and out of the store... as soon as his retreating back was out of sight Bakugo knelt beside you and placed his hands on either side of your face. “Hey my Pup, hey, you okay? Pup?” Bakugo asked in a soft, sweet tone only reserved for you. One of his large hands on your shoulder as his other gentle coaxed the soft bear out of your white-knuckle grip on the poor things neck. “Guess you like this little guy, huh?” Bakugo mused softly, trying to distract you from what just happened with the soft bear now in his hands, he lifted the tiny thing up to pretend kiss your face all over until you were giggling against Bakugo and snuggled up against his chest; your breathing back to normal and your anxiety lessened.

“How about you stick close to me, and we check out what we have and head home, yeah? I’ll cook you up a nice dinner with all my new kitchen gadgets, yeah? Sounds good huh, Pup?” Bakugo mused as he nudged you with his hip, a smile still on your face as you nodded, gripping his hand and walking toward the checkout, back to his shopping basket and you with your newly acquired bear in your hands.

@winnieslut @ryantryan6969 @natsukicookies @littlnika @im-better-than-your-newborn @ssc7514 @romiinlove @theequeenofcurses @xbieditz @hypernovaxx @craxy-person @archer-fb @sadgyaltings @kllrkitty @meiimeiichuu @noxva08 @livyyz @misscaller06 @kiwibao @ewwitsbella @mrsyixingunicorn10 @simplesoup

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roguehongsami · 6 months

Text

Celluloid Scenes.

pairing/s: professor!yunho x fem!student

genre/s: smut, fluff, au

synopsis: you're having difficulties grasping this chapter. your professor offers you extra classes, in which they end in the most unanticipated manner.

content: teacher-student (late & early 20s, consensual), filming, pet names, oral sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (condomize), rough sex, degradation (barely), belt collar, breath play, creampie, cum eating, face fucking, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism.

word count: 6k

author's note: cliché plot but this is my first piece since i got out of my 4-year writer's block. xoxo.

* DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FICTIONAL. IT IS NOT REPRESENTATIVE OF JEONG YUNHO'S CHARACTER, PERSONALITY OR BEHAVIOUR. THIS IS SOLELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. *

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ lana del rey // cherry

Y/N has never had trouble with music theory. If anything, it was her favourite module. Never raked in a score below a 75%, even if it was a mock assessment that held no weight towards the final pass mark. Chapter 9: Time Signatures. It all went downhill from there. She had collected nothing but 35% and lower on all her mock tests. It was humiliating, to say the least. She was not comprending anything that wasn't in 4/4. This streak of perpetual failures was swallowing her whole, and the shame of it all had found residence in the crevices of her mind.

Professor Jeong Yunho sauntered towards Y/N's desk and laid a paper in front of her, facing down. Facing down. The shame is growing.

He wore a bored expression when he looked down on her, releasing an exhausted sigh, and said, "Ms. L/N, a word after class?"

He continued down the row, handing out everyone's mock tests. She buried her face in her arms on the desk, contemplating her next steps. She's made use of study guides, peer assistance, and even sourced help outside the school, but all she knew was 4/4.

Her friend, Aaliyah, hugged her and said, "You have the best ear in this class, and everybody hits a bump in the road sometimes. But I promise, you will get this before the official assessment."

"Do you know how many hours of prog metal and jazz I listened to, just to get another face-down paper?" She sat upright, lifting Aaliyah's weight off of her body, and whined "My spotify wrapped, Aaliyah."

"Wrapped is in five months. That's enough time to get Lana back at number one." Aaliyah waved her off absentmindedly. "Try blues. It is the mother of modern music, so the answers are in there somewhere."

Class came to an end. The hall started airing out as the students bid adieu. Aaliyah left Y/N behind as she found her way back to their shared apartment. Y/N remained planted in her seat, tucking away yet another inglorious mock test into her tote bag. How the earth could just open up and swallow her. Y/N made her way down to Yunho's desk, while he stood at the door sending off his last students for the day. Once the class emptied, he closed the door and sat himself on his desk, in front of Y/N.

"Your last few mocks have been quite... appalling. I'm not a stranger to failing students but this is certainly not your M.O." he dawned a disappointed look. "You're my star student, talk to me."

She pouted as her head hung low, "I've asked the other students for help and even went to the music store across town. It's just not clicking."

He furrowed his brows, concerned, "Is there something going on in your personal life that's hindering your progress?"

"Nothing I'm aware of, no."

"Be honest, Y/N. It's your last year and I wanna see you graduate in record time." one of his eyebrows arched.

"I'm telling you." her voice was high as she responded. "You think I willingly listened to Dream Theater just to make sense of the work? Emphasis on 'willingly'." She threw her hands up in exaggeration.

He let out a chuckle and mumbled, almost as if he was embarrassed, "I love Dream Theater..."

"You also love post eighties Metallica," she said, mockingly, "but I'll shame you another day seeing that I actually need help." she bat her eyelashes coquettishly.

With a wheeze, he said, "I won't dignify that with a response."

Yunho smirked as he made his way around the desk and sat down is his chair. With his body occupying the space, the chair looked more like a throne beneath him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, unleashing an exasperated sigh. He was trying to make sense of Y/N's little hiccup. As he pondered on all the possible causes of her lack of understanding in the material, silence blanketed them.

During what felt like a voyage to the moon and back, but was actually a minute, Y/N had entertained herself with the Spiderman action figure on Yunho's desk. It was a Tobey Maguire edition. Its limbs could be moved and it had built-in web shooters.

"Okay," he broke the silence, which startled Y/N. She sat the figure back down on his desk, "since you're a practical learner, I can only assume that listening isn't enough for you. So we need to get physical."

"I don't know what that means." she deadpanned.

"Another way to learn time signatures is using drums. Wooyoung is expecting a delivery of new drumkits for his class but they won't be here until the third, which is-"

Y/N cut him off and finished the sentence. "After the official assessment." Panic materialised on her face, as her mind convinced her that her failure was bound to compound.

"Exactly. Now," he leaned forward on his desk, grabbed a note and pen, and scribbled on it as he spoke. "I do have a drumkit back at my place. I can privately tutor you until we complete this chapter." He handed her the note with his address and phone number on it. "We only have two more mocks left, so let's bring your grade up before the official assessment."

Y/N's face beamed as she swiped the note out of his hand, and glanced at it with hope in her eyes. She let out a squeal, which made Yunho jolt out of his seat. He looked at her with much adoration in his eyes, proud that he had just given his student a second chance she assumed was not probable.

Official testing was Monday. Yunho tutored her Fridays through Sundays. On Fridays, Y/N would arrive promptly at his loft at 18:00 and leave at 20:00. On weekends, their sessions begun at 15:00 and concluded at 18:00. Each lesson was very much routine; Yunho would demonstrate a time signature on his drumkit, Y/N replicated it, he would play a song on the speakers, and she would have to identify the time signature.

With each passing lesson, her pattern recognition skills improved. She had went from identifying time signatures after a verse and a chorus, to half a verse, to thirty seconds into a song. Averaging 35% and lower on mocks became a thing of the past, hauling in a 50 and 68 on her last two mocks. Never one to score anything less than a 75, Y/N was growing accustomed to the idea of a 70 for this chapter. She was just appreciative of the assistance Yunho offered, which allowed her to absolve herself of the shame that had befallen her.

The lessons weren't without their own... complications. At least emotional ones, that is. Piddling instances of small talk ranging from casual topics such as movies and music transformed into hour-long personal revelations about dreams and desires. Having peered into each other's hearts and minds, and divulging their truths, they saw each other in a new light.

Behaviours taking up new form, Yunho would always steal glances of Y/N while she was doing classwork. He started wearing much stronger colognes with a sweet touch. Y/N became more mindful of the way she dressed, abandoning her usual sweatpants and tank tops for mini skirts and blouses. These changes did not go unnoticed; they saw but never spoke.

As she trode to the door, about to begin her trek to Yunho's apartment, Aaliyah called to Y/N with her eyes glued to the television. "Make sure you have your keys with you. I probably won't be here when you come back." Aaliyah's eyes landing on Y/N's form, offering a warm smile. "Have fun at your lessons."

She responded softly, with a shy smile dawning her face, "Got my keys. I'll see you at the show." she begun walking out the door but she quickly backtracked, remembering to say, "Also, please learn how to open the window after showering. It's humid when I step in."

She arrived at Yunho's loft a little bit past 15:00. When she arrived, he asked if she could wait for him to take a shower. She sat on his couch, watching the television. Starting to feel a bit unimpressed with what the television had to offer, she occupied herself with his drumkit, practicing everything she had learned in past few weeks. Yunho entered the living room and lessons went on as usual.

"I think you're ready for Monday's test." Yunho sat on the couch, right beside her, resting his arm behind her head.

Y/N turned her body to face him, crossing one leg over the other with her skirt riding up her thigh, revealing a black lace garter embellished with floral designs. His eyes danced between the garter and her eyes, not certain what was more mesmerising. She picked up on this and truthfully, her heart fluttered.

What Y/N never admitted to anybody, not even the big man upstairs, was that she always had the cutest little crush on Yunho. Since first year. These extra lessons only made her innocent infatuation inflate by ten folds. Conversely, Yunho was lured in by the praises that were sung repeatedly by Professor Kim and Choi. He would always find excuses to be in Hongjoong and Jongho's classes, just to hear Y/N either play guitar or sing. What truly trapped him was hearing her rendition of the 'Sweet Child O' Mine' guitar solo. A true beauty who could make a guitar sing as beautifully as she does.

"That 75 was looking very bleak two weeks ago. This chapter had me praying to gods I didn't worship." she grimaced as the words left her mouth.

He inched closer to her face, speaking in a low tone, "I knew you'd turn things around with proper guidance." He begun sliding his hand right up her thigh and tugged on the hem of her thong. "My star student." he whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

He planted wet kisses on her neck, nipping her skin. A sharp gasp escaped her mouth; she impulsively grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and cocked her head back, giving him more access. He trailed multiple kisses across her neck, biting her skin along the way, marking her. She swiftly put herself up on his lap, straddling him between her legs. They shared a passionate kiss that only made their bodies radiate. The growing bulge in his sweats grazed her clothed sex, illiciting a sensual and breathy moan on her part.

They both knew what they were doing would warrant harsh consequences, should they ever be caught. In that moment, they cared only about what their hearts truly yearned for; each other's companionship.

"Fuck, Yuyu." she moaned as she would grind her clothed part against his bulge.

Yunho reached into her thong, separating her folds with his fingers. He was met with moisture. "Jesus, Y/N. You're already wet and we haven't even gotten to the best part."

In a flurry of motions, they were in Yunho's bedroom. He put her down on the bed and walked to the film camera in the corner of the room. He positioned it at the corner of the bed and begun filming. Hovering over her, he lifted her chin to make her face him.

Brushing his thumb on her cheek, he said, "You're gonna be a good girl for me, right?"

She hummed at his words, nodding in agreement. He leaned down to kiss her, unbuttoning her silk blouse as he went down on his knees. His hands snaked around her back, unclasping her bra, and cupping two handfuls of her mounds. His lips circled one of her nipples, licking and biting, forcing moans out of Y/N. He alternated breasts, abandoning one of them and leading his hand back into her thong. She was gushing.

With one hand still cupping her breast and his tongue teasing her nipple, he pulled her skirt off and proceed to remove her thong with his other hand. He exhanged her breast for her lips, longing for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck in an attempt to keep balance. His fingers separated her folds once more, his thumb playing with her clit. She gasped into his mouth, making him smile against her lips, feeling ever so proud of himself. He slid one finger into her hole, thumb still on her clit. He started pumping in and out of her slowly. A second finger. A third. Pace accelerating.

It was nearing. The knot in her stomach reporting, her walls clenching around Yunho's fingers. He could feel it approaching, it was right there but he wanted to make her beg for her release. He broke their kiss and pulled his fingers out of her, a whine escaping on her end. With haste, he took his t-shirt off and positioned his himself between her legs. Trailing kisses inside her thighs, he grabbed the garter with his teeth and slid it off her leg. He laid her down on the bed, one hand playing with her breast and the other fingering her into oblivion. His mouth wrapped around her clit, licking and kissing it. Softly nibbling her clitoris here and there, causing her back to arch. Y/N had a tight grip on Yunho's hair, not knowing what to do with her hands.

"Yuyu, please, I'm so close." she let out a moan that was bordering on a sob.

He purposely ignored her, knowing it would make her fight harder to not cum. Her walls clenched tighter than before around his fingers, the knot in her stomach getting uncomfortably tight. Tears welling in her eyes, breathing laboured, legs shaking uncontrollably. She was coming undone. He was pushing her to her limit. He felt her every reaction but still withheld those words.

Her tears escaping, running down her temples. With each passing second, she was finding it difficult to control her breathing.

"Yuyu, please." she croaked. Her grip on his hair only getting tighter.

Letting go of her breast, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed it, signaling her to leave his hair, which she reluctantly did. He peered from beneath her.

"What's my name?" he spelled out. His fingers were dancing right there by her sweet spot. She was overstimulated, seeing stars. The stimulation was making the nerves in her body cause an immense level of discomfort because her release was being withheld.

"Yuyu..." she cried in between incoherent mumbles.

"Someone doesn't wanna cum." he scoffed, burying his face back between her thighs. His tongue continued to draw circles around her clit, his fingers only getting faster.

"Yunho! It's Yunho!" she cried after a string of nonsensical ramblings.

He removed his mouth from her core, fingering her even faster than before, delivering the final blow. Those magic words. "Cum. Now." he commanded her.

The knot in her stomach snapped. Without a second to spare, her legs shook violently. Short hitched breaths. Tears streaming down her face. The thick, white, creamy nectar leaking out of her sex, seemingly neverending, came in vast quantities. He laid right beside her on the bed, enveloping her in a hug as she rode out her delirious high. Kissing her forehead, singing praises in her ear, talking her through her orgasm. Her body presumably sensitive, Yunho gently positioned her vertically on the bed.

He planted a soft kiss on her lips and stroked her hair, as he hovered over, whispering, "Don't fall asleep just yet, princess. We're not done."

The bulge in his sweats was throbbing, causing him mild discomfort. He was ready to finally relieve himself, and his favourite student was there to make it happen. He left the bedroom, Y/N trying her hardest to not drift off. Yunho returned and he leaned against the doorframe, hands behind his back, taking in the image of every curve and crevice of Y/N's body. Appreciating the goddess that laid nude in his bed, hair covering her face, awaiting an imminent awakening.

"Tell me, Y/N. Do you ever think of me while you... touch yourself?" Yunho enquired. A dark look in his eyes, with a hint of mischief.

Y/N lazily propped herself up against the headboard. Heat arose in her cheeks, feeling embarrassed. "I really don't wanna answer that, Yuyu."

He walked to the bed, revealing a digital camera, a belt and handcuffs in his hands. He put everything down on the bed except the camera, and caressed her cheek. She leaned into his touch. She felt safe, as if he was exactly who she had been waiting for her entire life. He grabbed her chin and rubbed his thumb on her bottom lip. She instinctively opened her mouth and sucked on his thumb. Yunho positioned the digital camera over her face and photographed the moment.

"That's okay. Personally, I've been thinking of ways I could touch you once I got the chance. Find new, exciting ways to stimulate you." he pulled his thumb out of her mouth, a string of saliva lingering. "See the way you were crying when you came? That was beautiful." he leaned in to her, brushing her lips with his own. "That's what my star student deserves as a reward, for being so hardworking and obedient."

She nodded in agreement as she closed the gap between them. A very short but heated kiss. Yunho pulled away and began to position her. Her knees pressed into the pillows, with her wrists handcuffed to the headboard, he pressed his hand down her back to make her arch. He looped his belt around her neck and let it hang on her back.

Once he took off his sweats, he positioned himself behind her, spreading her legs a bit wider. His member was long and girthy, a large vein running along the base. His slit leaking profusely with precum. He took the tip of his cock and ran it between her folds, as he was pumping it to get it harder, still slick with her nectar. The tip slid into her entrance. He slowly begun stretching her out, proving difficult as she was tight and he was... oversized. With every inch he fed her, they both started shaking. By the time he bottomed her, they were sweating buckets. Both his hands on her hips, slowly, he started pulling out and thrusting in with a bit more speed and impact, grazing her cervix. As they both grew accustomed to the rhythm, he looped the belt around his hand, gently tugging on it.

Although she did not verbally say, Y/N enjoyed the way Yunho tugged the belt. Breathy moans bouncing on the walls with each pull. Yunho watched how Y/N's ass recoiled everytime he pounded into her; a sight to behold. He loved it. Slowing down the pace, he took camera right beside him and begun taking pictures of his cock inside her. He tugged on the belt so that her head would face the ceiling. Smile for the camera. He put the camera back down and picked up the pace. His arm snaking around her waist, rubbing her clit vigorously.

With Yunho still tugging on the belt, slowly beginning to cut her air circulation, but leaving enough room for her to breathe, he pounded even harder. Skin clapping. Laboured breathing. Grunts and moans. Her cunt squelching. All these sounds melding together within the walls. It was amazing. That knot in her stomach paid her a second visit. There it was again. She feared he would repeat what he did before.

She spoke with a slight rasp in her voice, "I- I- I'm gonna c-cum..."

He rubbed her clit even harder. "Not yet, my little cocksleeve. Just a little longer."

Her nerves were getting overworked, yet again. She started sob-moaning as she did her utmost best to keep herself from unraveling. "Yuyu, I feel like I'm gonna explode. Please!" she cried hysterically.

Yunho tugged on the belt, causing her head to cock backwards. "Just take it like the good girl that you are, okay baby? Don't be a brat." he groaned in her ear.

"Yunho, I'm trying." she cried.

He released the belt and stopped rubbing her clit. Grabbing either sides of her hips, he rammed into her relentlessly. "Come on, princess. Cum on daddy's cock." he groaned. Without changing rhythm, he grabbed the camera again. As he felt her clamp around his cock, she released. A beautiful moan leaving her mouth. A white ring started forming around his cock, and he photographed this glorious creation. Y/N rode out her high on Yunho's cock, with bits of her juices dripping out, as she waited for him to get his.

Yunho's hips moved erratically as his own orgasm crept in. The tension in his stomach vanished as soon as he came inside Y/N. His cock was twitching inside her pussy. He plastered himself on her back while he came, his arms snaked around her waist. Whispering praises and promises in her ear. Planting kisses all over the side of her face. Taking nips of her skin.

After a few fleeting minutes, he then took off her handcuffs. As he pulled his member out of her pussy, a white, thick stream made its way down her thighs. Some of it dripping on the sheets. He quickly cleaned her up, rushed to the kitchen to get her a glass of water, and changed the sheets. She was out cold as soon as her head hit the pillow. He truly drained her.

Yunho stopped the recording and put the camera back where it initially was; in the corner of the room. He snuck into bed, cocooning Y/N in his chest and planting a soft kiss on her forehead. She was a true beauty to behold. He was boasting.

Almost two weeks had passed since Y/N and Yunho's sexual congress. Y/N earned herself a 73 on her official test, the lowest she'd ever gotten. She took it with stride as the alternative could've been worse. That Monday of the test was the last time she saw Yunho. As soon as she completed her test, she left her script with her professor and sped out of class, not allowing an opportunity for him to speak to her to present itself.

Y/N got what she wanted for the longest time but she didn't know how to navigate its aftermath. She felt awkward, didn't know how to act. Afraid that Yunho would tell her that it was just a one-time thing. She did not want to hear that. However, Yunho was feeling regretful of that fateful Sunday. Not because of the sex, but because of how Y/N was avoiding him. He was gutted. Losing sleep some nights. Never having seen her in class since Monday's test. Worried of her whereabouts. She wasn't answering his texts nor calls. All he could do was wait until the next time he saw her.

Waldorf Music Academy was hosting their annual mixer, where final-year students were given the opportunity to socialise and make connections with industry executives and artists. WMA was a hotspot for anyone seeking an educated individual who could turn 'generally favourable reviews' into 'universal acclaim'; a magnum opus. Its alma maters ranging from musicians to teachers with their own practices to executives. Industry titans from all over the world could only hope to get an invitation.

She knew this mixer was a once in a lifetime opportunity and couldn't miss it. Her dream of being a songwriter and composer was right there. Y/N spent the whole week preparing herself. Looking presentable was a must. She would not have her moment marred by poor etiquette.

A red, low-back floor-length silk gown with thin straps that criss-crossed in the back, was her choice. Paired with white strapped heels and a white quilted clutch. Her ensemble was embellished with a pearl choker necklace and a 3-piece pearl bracelet with a gold clasp. Breathtaking was not a testament to how magnificent she looked.

Yunho was sporting a black suit with a black tie, a white button-up shirt, a black waistcoat and patent leather oxfords. A silver lapel chain connecting two rubies, hung from the lapel down to the front pocket. His look complete with ruby cufflinks.

The mixer was in full swing. Artists and executives, students and professors were interacting. Some students were lucky enough to exchange contacts with people could open up doors for them. As Y/N spoke with a few songwriters who were behind multiple 2010s pop and hip-hop hits, a longing Yunho was burning holes into the back of her head with his stare from a few feet away. In all honesty, he was enticed by her bare back. He was waiting to go in for the kill.

As Y/N concluded her conversation, she slowly walked away. Yunho took a few strides towards her. He discreetly touched her lower back, which made her gasp. She took a quick glance to her side and faced front just as fast. They walked aimlessly together, side by side.

"Princess, you look otherworldly." he whispered, enough for her to hear but for no one to catch on. "Who's attention are trying to get?"

Maintaining the same tone, she responded, "You look ravishing, Yuyu. But certainly not yours."

"I haven't seen you since your test and you haven't attended any of my classes. You're my star student, talk to me." he recited. That succint statement creating a déjà vu effect.

Her steps faltered momentarily at 'star student' before her step was restored. "I've been feeling under the weather so I thought-"

"Don't lie to me, Y/N." he gently grabbed her wrist and yielded their stroll. He gave her a grave look. "I know you've been avoiding me because Hongjoong told me you were at every guitar lesson." he let go of her wrist to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

She gulped and sighed, defeatedly. "I felt... weird, after we... you know... had sex." she gestured with her hands. "I started avoiding you so you wouldn't get the chance to tell me it was a one-time thing. It sucks because I..." she released a shaky breath. "think I have feelings for you."

"That's on me for not prompting the conversation sooner. But do you realise how worried I was? How bad I felt when you didn't answer my texts or calls?" he shook his head. "Y/N, you can't just disappear on me whenever you don't understand your own feelings."

"Approaching you with matters unrelated to school is difficult because I don't know where we stand."

From the inside of his jacket, he produced a gold ring with an obsidian stone. "I was planning on giving you this after class, once you got your test results. But you've been M.I.A. So I brought it with me, hoping I would see you, so we could talk about, I don't know... a relationship?" he said, suggestively. The look in his eyes was softer. "I'm a grown man. No games, I want something serious."

She took the ring in her hand, admiring it with wide eyes, "There's no harm in talking, right?" she slid the ring on her right index and looked up at Yunho. "I don't wanna get you in trouble, Yunho."

"Don't worry, princess. We'll only meet in my loft since it's in the inner city, away from campus. After your graduation, we'll be free." he smiled reassuringly.

"Thank you for being so understanding." she returned the smile.

"I booked a room in the hotel. Ten-oh-three. See you after the mixer?"

She nodded quickly. "Midnight."

The hall was slowly emptying as guests departed. It was quite easy for Y/N to slip out without anyone noticing. Yunho had already disappeared by 23:00. As she rode silently in the elevator, she was hoping nobody from school would see her. The idea of getting caught was brewing anxiety inside her. The doors opened and she was met with a giant "floor 10" silver lettering. She walked down the hallway and stopped before 1003.

After a few knocks, Yunho opened the door and pulled her in while snaking his arm around her waist. Locking the door, he bridal carried her and plastered soft pecks all over her face. Y/N was very giggly. She dropped her clutch on the coffee table. They laid in bed, with Y/N beneath him. He tucked hair behind her ears, and started stroking her hairline. She toiled with the hair at the back of his neck. A few moments of silence passed as they enjoyed each other's embrace.

He started kissing her sensually, cupping either side of her face. She returned the kiss enthusiastically. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist. He got up off the bed and took off his waistcoat and shirt. Grabbing her by the ankles, he dragged her to edge of the bed and put her legs on his chest. He took off her heels and started massaging her legs.

"Tell me, princess. How far do you want us to go?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Our relationship."

She pondered on her thoughts. Not wanting to be so vague that it planted doubt in Yunho's mind, but not so honest that she sounded desperate. "Right now, I'm okay with this. I don't wanna set expectations that could be beyond our reach. Let's just... go with it."

Y/N sat upright on the bed, her legs dangling off the edge. She gently tugged on his waistband, bringing her lips to his stomach. He shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. His hand played with her hair. She unbuckled his belt and brought his pants down low enough for his cock to spring out.

It stood long and hard in front of her face, grazing her chin. She took him in her hand and placed a wet kiss on the tip. As she wrapped her lips around the tip and licked it, she slowly begun pumping his shaft. He let out a shaky breath. Her mouth felt warm around him. She worked his cock all the way down her throat, stilling for a few seconds.

When she pulled him out, a string of saliva lingered. She pumped him again, looking him in the eye and saying, "Tell me you want this, Yuyu. That you want me." she licked her upper lip.

He groaned. "Fuck, I want you and more, baby girl."

She planted her mouth back on his cock, sliding down halfway and leaving enough room to keep pumping. Her tongue laved him, wetting his cock immensely. Sucking on his cock and creating a suction effect, that paired with the rapid pumping was driving him to imminent euphoria. The feeling was sensational for him, expressing his pleasure with multiple breathless moans and praises.

Yunho looped her hair around his hand and said, "Let out your tongue, princess."

Y/N laid her tongue flat and stopped pumping. She put her hands on her thighs as he started thrusting in her mouth. The walls of her throat felt like velvet around his member. The thrusts accelerated gradually and he was pounding hard. Try as hard as she may, her gag reflex betrayed her. She started crying. He was just too big for her. He stilled deep in her throat, holding her steady for a few moments. His cock was throbbing against the back of her throat. Shortly after, he pulled out, only leaving the tip in. He came in her mouth. She was sucking him, milking him dry of all he had. She pumped out as much of the cum as she could. All of his nectar collected in her mouth, some going down her chin. It was warm and tasted a bit salty, with a creamy consistency. She swallowed all of it. She peered up to him, doe eyed, wiping the residue on her chin with her thumb and licking it.

Yunho bowed down to meet her eyes and smirked. "You're such a pretty crier." he cupped her face, wiping away her tears. "My pretty little plaything."

Their lips crashed into one another, Yunho forcing his tongue into her mouth just to taste himself. She moaned into his mouth, squeezing her thighs together to stimulate herself. He grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head. Her nipples stood at attention at the feel of the slightly chilly temperature. Her lace thong was the next to be discarded. Tucking his cock back in his pants, he pulled away from her.

"Play with yourself." he said with authority.

She guided her hand down to her sex as she spread her legs open on the bed. As she held Yunho's gaze, she used the slick that had gathered in her cunt to lube her clit. She rubbed that little sensitive bud, slowly picking up speed. Her body temperature started rising. She slid two fingers into her hole, thrusting them. She knew she couldn't crest an orgasm without help, but that didn't stop her from trying. Her moans filled the room as she pleasured herself for her partner. Yunho took his cock out and started rubbing one out. He was so aroused by Y/N. It didn't take long until he was leaking precum and she was dripping arousal on the sheets.

"Don't you wanna help me out, Yuyu?" she said, almost out of breath. "I can't cum without you."

"Anything for you, princess." he dropped his pants all the way down to the floor.

He positioned himself between her thighs, running his tip through her slick cunt. The tip slowly stretched her out. Gasping into his mouth, she supported herself using his broad shoulders. He filled her all the way up and started slow stroking, getting faster as the rhythm smoothed out. Taking one hand, while balancing himself with his forearm, he had his hand on her neck. Applying pressure to her sides. He told her to open her mouth and he spit inside.

"Yunho, faster!" she begged.

Yunho was getting aroused with the way her breasts danced with every pounding. Her moans were the single most beautiful song he had ever heard. Her sweet cunt was only getting warmer and slicker. The unholy squelching as their hips moved in tandem. This was his heaven. He brushed against her sweet spot hastily. She felt the pressure build up in her stomach, and her walls clenching around him. She was going to crest it; sweet, sweet release. This time she was going to comply just to get a hit. Yunho's wasn't far either as he moved erratically inside her.

"I'm not gonna make you beg." he grunted. "Cum. Now."

"Fuck, yes!" she moaned with pleasure.

Y/N locked her legs tightly around Yunho. As the pressure in her stomach eased, her high hit her like a tidal wave. She dug her freshly manicured nails into his back. His cock spasmed inside her, releasing his second load of the night. Both trying to gather themselves, the ecstasy slowly subsided. Yunho slid his cock out of her and left a kiss on her forehead. She was brought into a bear hug in bed.

"I really love how you say 'Yuyu'. It's cute, adorable honestly." he kissed the top of her head.

She beamed as if hearing the most life-changing news. "I knew you'd love it. But you kept pretending like you didn't." she pouted.

"I was just teasing, princess. You get worked up so easily." he chuckled into her hair.

"You know, I love 'princess'. Makes me feel important."

"Because you are, and I intend on treating you like one." he cooed in her ear as he brought her hand to his face, and kissed the obsidian stone.

#ateez #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho fluff #roguehongsami tentatives

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arkhammaid · 1 month

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE WAIT FOR THE FIRST RACE

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the waiting time between pre-season testing and first race is being filled

content warnings. the girls (men) are fighting and y/n gets a reality check

notes. another chat chapter because you guys liked it lol

george russell Welcome, @/oliverbearman and @/ynstark to the main Grid Chat. I will add you to the other ones as well.

daniel ricciardo WELCOME!!! We're so happy to finally have you here

Also, @/kevinmagnussen, welcome back you ass

Don't leave any groupchats again, it's a pain to add you back

george russell Considering I have to do the work, you're not allowed to complain Daniel

lando norris booo, let him have the fun

nico hülkenberg Oh no, it starts again. I'll mute you asshats if you don't stop this

lando norris you're just boring

oliver bearman thank you guys! very happy and honored to be finally part of the big guys 🫣

y/n stark thank you, george! and i'm excited to officially meet you all, until then, hello :)

charles leclerc Hello y/n, welcome to the grid! I hope you'll enjoy your stay here 😉

y/n stark thank you charles, i'm sure i will lol

kevin magnussen I swear I will block you all

daniel ricciardo Don't be like that, you love us

y/n stark lol, he actually hates you guys, won't stop whining kevin magnussen One day, young lady, one day... y/n stark y'all hear sum? charles leclerc Gagged. lando norris charles???

carlos sainz Can you guys just shut up for once, dios mio.

charles leclerc Aww, Carlos, you love us! carlos sainz Debatable. Sometimes I wish you would all crash and not survive to be honest oscar piastri We get it, you're an asshole carlos sainz Fuck off Piastri oscar piastri Right back at you Sainz

lewishamilton welcome to our new rookies! ollie, awesome to see you again, y/n, don't be a stranger, we haven't talked in ages!

y/n stark lew!! we defo have to, gonna hit you up for fashion show for sure, pepper has been planning something pierre gasly Lew 👀 y/n stark look who's here... the tripod.... pierre gasly Yeah yeah, shutting up. Welcome to the grid y/n y/n stark thank you pierre

sergio perez Welcome, rookies.

max verstappen From me a welcome as well!

esteban ocon Welcome, welcome!! This is so exciting, I've been waiting for a long time now 😋😋

lance stroll Estie??? esteban ocon Shht, Lancey, let me cook lance stroll 💀💀💀

lance stroll Anyways, all of them are idiots, as we already know, welcome to hell, y/n

y/n stark aww, thank you lance. so sorry you have to go throught this 🫂 charles leclerc We're not so bad?? lewis hamilton Well. charles leclerc Oh come on Lewis lewis hamilton I didn't say anything

fernando alonso Stark and Bearman! Welcome to the coolest people on the paddock 😎

oliver bearman thanks fernando! y/n stark thanks nando 😎

alexander albon Hi guys, so nice to see you finally in here! @/georgerussell you took your sweet time man

george russell You be Head of the GPDA then. alexander albon No thank you, I'm fine 🙃

logan sargeant Welcome, welcome, happy to see some new faces!

oscar piastri They're finally here. Welcome back Ollie and welcome Y/n to this shit hole

lando norris you know what osc? oscar piastri No, and I don't care. Save the talking for the track lando norris you do know i'm still zak's favorite driver? i could get you fired oscar piastri Please don't. charles leclerc This is what you get for lying in an interview. No groupchat with all of us is ever formal oscar piastri This literally isn't about you Charles charles leclerc Boo, you hater

y/n stark @/kevinmagnussen i see what you've said now...

kevin magnussen Never ever doubt me again, I've been with those fuckers for years now daniel ricciardo Hey!! That's not nice yuki tsunoda you know what else is not nice ricciardo? daniel ricciardo Yuki, drop it. Team orders are team orders yuki tsunoda i don't give a fuck old man, you behave like a bitch you get bitch behavior max verstappen Drop it or else I'll involve Helmut. yuki tsunoda fuck you dan-cocksucker max verstappen Yuki. We don't carry out team issues to the grid. yuki tsunoda he started first and i have proof daniel ricciardo I don't know why you're being so dramatic, it was only testing yuki tsunoda i give you dramatic you fucking asshole. you know what you did and i stand by my statement that this was a total asshole move. just because you got a big smile doesn't mean you're fooling everyone fucking ass george russell I will both kick you out if you don't drop this immediately.

carlos sainz And it starts again...

valterri bottas You're all children. Stop it

y/n stark so pierre was right huh 😀

kevin magnussen I told you so. pierre gasly Why am I getting involved in shit again?

zhou ganyu I apologize for their behavior. Y/n, Oliver, welcome to the grid, I'll be excited to race you both!

kev

are they actually children because wtf did i just witness.

Yeah... I told you drivers are dramatic. Well, most of them and other's are just their victims. Of course we have our moments and friendships but it's a ruthless sport

man tf. literal man children. i'm so glad i have you as a teammate kev. like seriously. i don't know if i could survive with someone like daniel or carlos

the passive agressive vibes <<<<

that's just not it tbh

I have no idea what you just said but I agree. Daniel and Yuki are not good teammates, it was already bad last year and now this.

To be honest, Nico and I often missed stuff like that since we were stuck at Haas and the upper dogs never really showed interest in what we thought or did but everyone knew what happened between them

pls don't tell me they have a clique here... oh my god and i thought the rumors were false

I mean.. not really but also kinda yes? Better drivers stick together since they're always spending time together, you know. No one cares about the ones who're limping behind, well besides Pierre and Esteban, but they're only kinda involved because they're close to Charles and Lance. And Lewis and Fernando aren't really on their level, they keep to themselves

why are men problematic

not you obvs, but like... jeez really felt the love here when we got welcomed

Welcome to F1 kid, it's a shithole

thanks, it's so lovely here

dad?

i think it's worse than we thought

Honey, what are you talking about?

everything. you should see the group chat with the drivers right now. i thought people were joking about f1 drivers being bitter and bitchy towards each other, but there are literally groups and alliances or whatever the fuck is going on there

and if that's only the drivers... i don't want to know how the teams are

Oh.

but also like, what is that going to stop us? we made plans, we know what to do but dear lord are men stupid. well not all but most of them. i literally had to watch how yuki and daniel were fighting because of a team issue in the GROUPCHAT with all drivers

and when max told them to drop it, he got called a dan-cocksucker, can you imagine??

everyone seems to know why they're fighting besides me and ollie, i knew there was tension in alpha tauri but this?? it's a new level of what the fuck is going on here

Are you alright?

i am

just

yk had to tell someone who's not kev since he has been involved in this forever and is used to it. but i still thought

well idk what i thought, maybe i'm just stupid for my wishful thinking

should've known all of this was pr and that most rumors are true. it will make our lives a bit harder

Don't worry, no matter what they throw against us, it's no alien invasion. They're just whiny little men after all and I'm literally Iron Man

i know dad

love you. and thank you

Of course, anything for you

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel, @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles , @fangirl-dot-com , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora , @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozart , @leclucklerc , @yl90 , @thebook-bitch

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 female driver #fem!driver #female driver #tony stark x reader #kevin magnussen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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hananosami · 1 year

Text

Thank you, Mom

synopsis: Megumi thanks his adoptive mother, Gojo's lover, for having always taken care of him and his half-sister- as they both reminiscence about the past.

word count: 1.5k +

Author’s Note: Fluff, fluff, fluff. Just mum reader and her adoptive child Megumi. I would also like to note that Gojo and Reader already have an established relationship, and that this is also a chapter from a fanfic I've written.

Warning: very minor descriptions about scars from self-harm.

youtube

A young woman had a soft smile present on her face, as she watched both the first and the second years play in the water. She sat on the beach, wiggling her toes a bit, then sinking her toes deeper unto the sand. Today, marked the first day of their break. Technically, it wasn't vacation, but with Gojo having exorcised almost every cursed spirit within the 25 kilometer radius- it's officially vacation for the students.

The students yelled at each other, splashing water towards one other, as they basked under the summer sun. A soft sigh escaped her lips, content, after seeing her students have fun in the water. "Sensei." (Y/N) turned her head to the sound of the voice, "Megumi? It's just us, you can just call me (Y/N)." He nodded, "May I?" The raven haired boy asked, as he eyed the space beside her- she nodded. "Why aren't you having fun with the rest of them?" She asked the young boy, as she turned her gaze straightforward, continuing to watch the students play in the water without a care in the world.

It was silent for a second, then "Thank you, okaa-san." The woman's eyes widened a bit, confused, as she turned her head to get a better look at the boy beside her. "I wanted to say thank you, I never got the chance to." She was speechless, unsure of what to say next. "For what, Megumi-kun?" (Y/N) observed the way he fiddled with his fingers, he wasn't nervous. But he was hesitant, she could tell through his body language. Years worth of taking care of the young boy, she eventually understood how he was. Then he paused and looked at her straight in the eye, speaking of words that left her mouth agape.

"For having always taken care of my sister and I."

Gojo Satoru was a second year student at the time, roughly around the age of seventeen. The young woman he came to love was fifteen, it was the year she had entered Jujutsu High as a first year student. No one came back unscathed from the Star Plasma Vessel mission, even when Satoru seemed to have gained a lot by learning the true potential of his limitless- there were also things that were sacrificed during the mission. Even when it's been a decade, the scars seemed to continue being fresh wounds.

".. S.. Satoru who's this?" The young girl blinked in confusion, eyeing the small boy, that seemed to be around the age of six. "This here is Megumi! Fushiguro Megumi! Starting from today onwards we'll be taking care of him!" The sapphire orbed man gleed, causing the young woman to furrow her eyebrows together. Taking a deep breath in, and swallowing her questions down for later, she smiled at the little boy. "Hi Megumi! I'm (Y/N), it's nice to meet you!" She knelt down on face level, as she ruffled his hair gently. The raven haired boy continued to have a poker face, she was slightly taken back by his demeanor, but didn't mind it.

She looked up at Satoru, "I'm going to be preparing dinner at the common room, are you going to be joining us?" He shook his head, "I have to report back to Yaga, so it'll just be the two of you." She nodded, and watched as he ruffled the raven haired boy's hair messily. "I'll get going. Alright Megumi, make sure to take care of pretty miss (Y/N) here! Don't give her a hard time." The young boy released a light huff, and the young girl's cheeks became lightly tinted with pink. "And (Y/N), thank you." The young man gave her a sincere smile, before heading out.

"Alright Megumi, dinner is served." (Y/N) sat on the opposite side of the table where the young boy sat, and observed as he picked up his chopsticks and started eating. She laughed internally, upon the realization that she might just have to teach the young boy some table manners. But she couldn't blame him either for hastily eating, he must've been starving from the looks of it. "So Megumi-kun, how's the food?" She asked, which made the boy pause, as he was about to pick up another piece of gyoza. (Y/N) observed as he pursed his lips into a thin line, before opening them ever so slightly, to speak of the softest of responses.

"It's really good, thank you.. (Y/N)-san."

The sixteen year old woman laid on the hospital bed, observing the snow that was falling from the sky. It was the first snow of winter, the gloomy weather looming over, but the sparkling of the snowflakes seemed to brighten the season of death. Turning her head to the sound of the door opening, she was met with a little boy who was now a year older. "Megumi.." A gentle smile forming unto her face, "You came to visit me again, I'm being spoiled so much." She observed as the young boy's gaze turned down to stare at his feet, a frown now replacing that smile that she once had.

He approached her, while Gojo laid his back against the white walls of the hospitals room and observed from the door. "When are you coming back home.." He mumbled quietly, still looking down at his feet. "Gojo doesn't cook very good food and Tsumiki misses your cooking.." A soft laugh escaped her lips, before she reached down and brought Megumi to sit on the hospital bed with her. "Soon, I'm going home soon."

She gave the boy a reassuring smile, hoping to see the slightest of a smile on his face. Instead, she found him staring at her arm that was laying on top of her lap, where her scars resided, still healing from the trauma of her own doing. Rotating her arm to hide the scars from the boy, she caressed his cheek with her other hand and turned his face upwards to look at her. "I'll be okay Megumi-kun, I promise to be back soon, so you won't have to endure Satoru's atrocious cooking." A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and the trust his gaze held, when he looked at her directly in the eye.

"That better be a promise."

It was the summer of 2011 and (Y/N) was about to die from the heatstroke. The twenty year old sat at the curb, sweating her ass off. Resting her head in her between legs, then she almost yelled her entire heart out when she felt a cold contraption rest at the back of her neck. "Ah-! Sa.. Satoru!" She yelped, to only earn a chuckle from the older man. "Tired already, my love?" Sighing softly, she nodded.

The two watched as Tsumiki wrapped her arm around her younger step brother's shoulder, who was about to grow taller than his older step sister. "C'mon Megumi! Let's go ride the teacups!" The eleven year old boy furrowed his eyebrows together, reluctant on going to the teacups that were whirling around in circles. The older child looked at (Y/N) for help, "Go on Megumi, don't let your sister ride by herself." She gave the younger one a closed-eyed smile, the raven haired boy huffing, as he reluctantly agreed.

The four of them were currently at Disneyland, oddly enough, Gojo coincidentally had his mission in Osaka- in result, he could join them on their vacation. "They're having fun, right?" The woman asked her lover, who had his arm around her shoulder. "Don't stress too much, kikufuku. Look, even Megumi's starting to smile." He pointed towards the two, who were riding a red teacup. Tsumiki, despite her frail self, used the wheel in the middle to spin the teacup faster. A soft smile and pink tainted cheeks soon became present on the raven haired boy's face, as he helped his older sister spin the teacup faster.

"Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't worry too much."

The woman ruffled the sixteen year old boy's hair, "You know that, you don't have to thank me right?" She asked, to which the boy nodded in response. "I know, but Tsumiki thought of you as a mother.. And I.. I truly do so, as well.." He mumbled quietly, (Y/N) sighs softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and gently pushing his head to rest at her shoulder.

"Thank you too, Megumi.." She paused, looking up at the bright blue sky, seagulls passing by the tent they sat in. "For what, (Y/N)-san?" He observed that soft smile slowly form unto her lips, her gaze returning back to the students who were playing in the water. It was almost, melancholic, the way her gaze turned motherly as she watched the other students play in the water.

"Thank you for growing up so well."

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theravenkin · 5 months

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hey followers and mutuals:

just a reminder that you can help suffering palestinians from afar. it feels hopeless, but there's always something we can do.

you can donate. i've been donating to the palestinian children's relief fund; there's also a chapter on campus at my university. there are other organizations you can donate with, too: unicef and launchgood are good ones too i think. it doesn't have to be a hundred dollars at a time; give whatever you can afford. just remember why you're giving in the first place.

you can boycott. boycott starbucks, boycott mcdonald's, boycott nestle products, coke products, unilever products...there are so many fucking companies with their hands in israel's pockets (and vice versa) right now. even better, the boycotts are working. starbuck's stocks have dropped like crazy in the past couple of weeks; the world is feeling our collective effects. boycotts work if we stick to them. go to bdsmovement.net to learn about more companies you can boycott or pressure.

you can call your representatives. call and email your representatives every single day. you can call the white house. you can tell them that you are a registered voter and that you will not be voting for any candidate who does not demand a ceasefire. tell them that you will refuse to support any elected official who accepts bribes from AIPAC (such as democrats Brian Higgins, Gregory Meeks, Joseph Morelle, and Ritchie Torres of NY and Pete Aguilar, Ami Bera, and Julia Brownley of Cali). flood those motherfuckers with messages. it does more than you think.

you can share. get on social media and find those palestinian journalists and civilians who are sharing in real time scenes from Gaza. it's gruesome and it is horrifying, but people (especially those so removed from it) need to see it to understand. western media can only spread so much propaganda; when you've seen those dying children, people crying and searching through rubble for their families, something is bound to change. go to instagram and follow motaz (@motaz_azaiza), bisan (@wizard_bisan1), plestia (@byplestia), the heroes on the ground in gaza, risking their lives. they start each new post with "i'm still alive", often worrying that they may not be for long. palestinians are begging the rest of the world to listen and to tell their story in case they don't make it. they just want to be remembered. that's the very least we can do.

you can have conversations. talk to your friends, your family. post on social media. address it directly. it will be uncomfortable. you dont have to be aggressive about it; just try to appeal to people's humanity, present them with the facts, and if you must, show them the gruesome footage from gaza or the badly veiled propaganda from israeli officials. do anything you can to get them to care. tell them how they can help. get people talking about it, even just thinking about it.

you can educate yourself. i've learned more about the history of israel and palestine in the last few days than i ever had before. and let me tell you: learning the objective facts of history makes it 200% easier to know who to support.

you can support your muslim, jewish, and arab friends. they all need it right now. check in on them and see how they're doing. let them know that you're trying to do something; even though it feels small, it will mean something to them, i promise. let them know you're there and you support them.

please please share and do whatever you can to help those suffering without food, water, electricity, or medical care right now. don't be afraid of the issue because it's "sensitive" or "controversial". it's uncomfortable to face, but it should be more uncomfortable to allow thousands to die while we do nothing.

free palestine. 🇵🇸

#free palestine #palestine #🇵🇸#free palestine 🇵🇸#israeli apartheid #middle east #support palestine #stand with palestine #stand with gaza #stop the genocide

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archie-sunshine · 2 months

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RAUGHH, CYBERVERSE SOUNDRODDDD.. Do you have any hcs for them? Like, either NSFW or not. They are so silly and I love them in your art style

I did a post like ages ago about their more nsfw sexual habits, so now i wanna make one about their relationship bc i've been thinking about it way more!

generally for my hornier thoughts, heres a very quick summarization.

but onto more interesting things!!

I think that hot rod and soundwave in cyberverse would absolutely be the ssssLOWEST.... enemies to lovers. arc. in the world. In my mind i think they obviously start as enemies, but before they become lovers or even really FRIENDS I feel like they'd be fuckbuddies.

they share a similar almost frat boy ish energy, with rodimus being more rambunctious and soundwave being almost more professional. I feel like because of his higher rank in the decepticons, soundwave understands he's got a bit more of a reputation to uphold, though at heart he's still the same music blasting punk as he was before the war.

I think hot rod brings out that part of him, sort of that competitive and more fun part of himself that he left behind to be a general and a soldier.

I also like the idea that hot rod would be more hesitant to make their relationship anything more than casual than soundwave would be, but soundwave would never make the first move, so they'd be SQUARELY in a situationship for like. AGES.

I digress though. I think even in a relationship the two of them would be bickering and fighting constantly. I think hot rod is a terrible person to share a home with, and in my mind they'd probably end up moving in as roommates before making things official.

but on a more serious note, I think what really draws them together is a nice healthy dose of trauma bonding.

I think it'd be conflicting to have one of the only people who REALLY TRULY understands what you've been through, the repetition of desperately searching for someone, aNYONE to hear you, watching your friends and loved ones drained and dying and being unable to really do a thing- I think that's something that would have an impact on both of them.

they'd find each other in those moments, whether they say it's coincidence or accident or not, i think they would find comfort in one another.

yeah- god the more i think about them the more I want to write about them. jesus christ. I need to finish the next chapter of survey says so i can write another oneshot.

#archie answers #transformers #my art #my requests #tf cyberverse #tfc #hot rod #soundwave #soundrod #hotwave

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laurzzz · 11 months

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Babe wake up, a new Welcome Home AU just dropped (more info below the artworks)

Edit: I'll also put the Information Database for this AU here. Click here to go there!

Mmmm lots of info to give on this AU but let's first start off with me writing a fic for this AU mhm because of course I'd do that, why wouldn't I?

Anw, I'm currently writing Chapter 2 and I'll be posting that and the prior chapters soon enough. I've been brainrotting so hard on this these past few weeks you guys have no idea!!

Click the read more/keep reading button to know more, as this is a bit of a long post!

Little bit of a premise to the AU (some will be implied in the Prologue Chapter):

The AU is a Teacher AU but since they can also be called Professors as well, I decided to just calling this AU as "Puppet Education" or "Puppet Ed", which will also be the title of the fic

No design for Y/N because yes, to enjoy possible variety on clothing, body type, and whatnot

The puppets live as civilians in a small town called Home and teach only in one same campus, Home Integrated University (HIU; a thing I made up where one can learn from Kindergarten up to taking Post Graduate degrees wahaha)

You grew up in this town and but went to be an exchange student/study abroad for high school

You end up coming back home to your town because of your parents' sudden deaths which leads you to finishing your studies (college) back in Home where you decide to study a program in getting an education degree

Thing is, you don't exactly know what you want after getting the education degree so you decide to "abuse" the free electives program that HIU is offering. That's how you meet all the puppet professors.

The puppets teach in both youth-based classes (kindergarten and middle school) and in college as seen in their little descriptions up top

The puppets work with each other and are still very close friends in this AU and they'd often chat during break time when they meet for their college classes

Home is an incredibly small town with a very small population so the less people means they are able to take on more classes to teach on

Their personalities are a bit out of character in this AU due to their... circumstances but I'll still try to keep their canon personalities clearly visible every now and then when writing

There's a bit more "lore" to this AU than what I'm giving you guys right now so if you want to maybe know more about that, consider reading through the fic when I start posting the chapters in a bit and as I continue to update it in the near future! The whole fic won't be too long, my expectations are pretty low for the length as I'm just trying to get the brainrot out in the most productive way I can possible.

I'll be tagging this AU as #puppet education for those who would want to sift through my posts in regards to it. That's all for now, I hope to see y'all join me in my brainrot!! >:}

--------------------------------------------------

This post features my Teacher AU for Welcome Home called Puppet Education. Wanna know more abt this AU? Check out the information database I made for it: https://puppet-education.carrd.co/

If you ever wish to do fanwork for Welcome Home like I do, be sure to consult the Fanwork Guide of Clown before doing so and you can also check out the official Welcome Home Website for more context on the characters!

#welcome home #welcome home au #partycoffin #teacher au #wally darling #julie joyful #sally starlet #frank frankly #eddie dear #poppy partridge #barnaby b beagle #howdy pillar #home #laursdraws #long post #puppet education

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psychedelic-ink · 7 months

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𝐒𝐮𝐢 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 6.1k

chapter summary: you and joel take your relationship to the next level.

warnings: themes of grief and loneliness, hurt/comfort, fluff, body painting, joel being a very lousy nude model, oral (male receiving), heavy petting, fingering, shower sex, edging, dirty talking

a/n: aaaaand we're BACK-- the hiatus is officially over and I am so ready to focus on this series. I've missed them so much and I hope you guys all did too 💗 also special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on while I was writing this, love you to the moon and back bby xx

Chapter Eleven || Chapter Thirteen

Loneliness had never been a stranger to you. You had your own brand of it, like a homemade fig preserve. Being so close with it, you’ve added something from yourself, and in return, it has branded your personality in such a way that it has become hard to think there was anything but.

For the longest time that special brand of loneliness had been your closest friend. During adulthood, you noticed how tired you were of asking for people to be emotionally aware of your needs, your wants. You were tired of spelling it out for them. Your parents weren’t like you, neither was Auggie. No one around you was emotional like you were, so you learned to keep it locked tight in your heart. You cried at night. You smiled during the day. You felt off and weird when family members hugged you and wept on your shoulder, you dissociated. You’ve noticed this, especially at your grandfather’s funeral. He was gone and you hadn’t shed a tear among the dark black fabrics.

Auggie knew you did this, but alas, it didn’t really matter.

So when you found a family emotionally rich despite not having much, it came as a mild shock to you. Sarah didn’t have these issues. She didn’t care if she was emotional or not, or if what she said came off as needy. The only emotional constipation you noticed was between brothers, but even that didn’t stop them from addressing what they felt during an argument.

You were no stranger to emotional outbursts. Reading a book and eyes welling before you could finish a sentence.

Now, you feel less lonely thanks to Joel, Tommy, and Sarah, each filling a different gap in your withered soul. But even that doesn’t stop the old habit of sewing your mouth shut.

You wake with a heavy weight on your chest. It’s still dark, the sky a dark shade of royal blue. It’s actually a beautiful night. However, your eyes are blind to it. Your skin is damp with sweat. If you saw a nightmare, you don’t remember what it was. You remember going to bed uncomfortable, Tommy’s sad eyes branded into your lids like tattoos you both want to and don’t want to get rid of.

You gradually rise from the bed, the thin summer quilt sliding off your now cold body. You shudder. It had been a long time since you last felt this way. Empty and lonely. It always feels like you have to suffer through these emotions on your own, your need to smile through it more prominent than anything else.

You smack your lips together, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You need water. Ice cold water.

Going down the stairs you don’t think how dark it is, or how some particular shadows remind you of your childhood when you would wake up thanks to the jarring sound of mosquitos, looking for comfort downstairs where your grandparents were usually up. Fuck, your chest is even heavier now. The muscle in your chest more like a cannonball than heart. You’re hyper-aware of the way your chest rises and falls with every breath and quickly, you make your way to the kitchen.

The light of the fridge momentarily blinds you but despite your burning irises you manage to wrap your fingers around the familiar handle of the old jug. You pour yourself a big glass and take small swallows.

A soft wind caresses the outer skeleton of the house. The shadows of leaves dance over the walls, again, a familiar sight that drags you back and makes you sick simultaneously.

“You a’right there, sweetheart?”

You jump at the sound of a voice deepened with sleep. Tommy is staring at you from the entrance, brows furrowed, the crease between them so much like his brother. Taking another small sip of water, you swallow and place the cold glass on the counter.

“I’m fine,” you grit out, your voice leveled. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

Before you know it, Tommy’s warm hands are on your face, cradling your cheeks. His thumbs move over your cheekbones, pressing and applying pressure over the bone. Your heart skips a beat. It takes you everything not to lean into his touch, to seek out that comfort only he could give. But you think of Joel, you think of him, and you stop yourself. If Tommy knew about you and Joel, if you were completely honest with him—an open book, you would’ve taken that comfort to yourself, not a worry in your heart but he doesn’t know and that alone makes your stomach clench with guilt.

“You don’t look fine,” his hands slide down to your shoulders. “Was it a nightmare?”

You blink heavily, your eyes locked on one another. Two broken people in a dark kitchen. It pains you that a nightmare is Tommy’s first guess. You wonder how many times he’d woken up to the faux scent of gunpowder and screams only to be comforted by the darkness of the ceiling.

“Something like that. I. . sometimes forget that they’re gone,” your eyes drop to his chest. “And then I remember that no matter what, in the end, I’ll be lonely.”

“Lonely?” he spits out the word, shocked, hurt and baffled. “What are you talkin’ about? You have Joel—You have me.”

You know you do. You really do. But after years of going through it all alone, to see your friends have their own support systems and people to protect them, care for them, it’s hard to believe you’ve found your people. It’s hard to believe that years of solitude where you had to take care of yourself was over. Old habits die hard. Your heart shatters piece by piece. Your heart nothing but a heavy weight in your chest. You want to collapse, to scream, shout and cry. Salty tears sting the corner of your eyes. Suddenly you’re drowning in your past like it’s still your present, the thickness of it goes all the way up to your neck and you can’t breathe—

“Hey—hey,” Tommy cups your cheeks, thumbs running down where tears would be but your skin is dry. “Come back to me, it’s a’right. I’ll always be with you, you know? Even if you move far away, I’ll always be a thorn in your ass.”

You crack a smile and manage to nod, placing a hand over his own. You think a tear finally falls, maybe even two. You hate feeling like this. Hate it. Tommy doesn’t look convinced by your expression.

“Do. . .do you want me to call Joel?”

His words freeze you to the bone. Of course, he would ask that—Tommy Miller, always thoughtful, always putting others first. They both do. You even think to some extent Sarah does the same thing. All of them throwing themselves in front of a moving train in different ways.

You don’t know if he’s noticed something. Or if he just thinks that Joel’s presence would be more soothing, since he’s used to relying on his older brother.

Either way, you want him to know that he’s enough.

And he’ll always be enough.

You shake your head, “No,” he furrows his brows when you part your arms. “But I wouldn’t say no to a hug.”

Strong arms sneak under your armpits and broad palms press against your back. Tommy pulls you incredibly close. Holds you indescribably tight. His scent fills your lungs. A bit of sweat mixed with a day-old deodorant. He smells nice. He always had. His skin is warm against your cheek and you smile widely this time but he doesn’t see.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you whisper into the darkness. “I would be lost without you.”

“Are you sure you’re a’right?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“Hundred percent sure?”

“Yes, sir,” you declare, your gaze fixed on Joel as you peer from the side of the canvas for a better look. “Now stand still.”

Joel grumbles something inaudible and straightens his neck, attempting to keep his limbs as still as possible. Your eyes rove across his broad shoulders, the expanse of his chest, you take in the shadows that appear between every sinewy muscle and think about how to convey it into your painting. You still haven’t dared to look further down. Looking down means that you’ll definitely be distracted.

You sketch a couple of lines that vaguely resemble his shape. You’ve missed painting nudes and when you mentioned it to Joel, he was eager to accept without actually realizing he had to stay still for a generous amount of time.

“You should’ve called,” he grumbles. “I would’ve come straight over.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it was late, and Tommy was there.”

He doesn’t say anything but you can sense his displease.

“He’s my friend, Joel,” you answer, observing the thick contour of his neck. “And your brother.”

“I know that. I just don’t like the idea of not being there for you.”

“Tell him then,” you say a bit harshly. He doesn’t seem affected by your shift in tone. Another line joins the others. “If it was anything serious I would’ve called, hell, I would’ve come to you but it wasn’t that serious. I was just in a. . . mood.”

“Tommy sure don’t think so.”

You don’t say anything and focus on drawing the rest of his torso, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I hate when you do this, you know.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Do what?”

“Downgrade your problems. It’s okay if you’re still grievin’. It’s okay if there are some things you’re still workin’ out. I just don’t want you to think you’re alone, I can be your rock, sweetheart. I’d be happy to.”

“You are my rock, Joel—and keep still.” He huffs and straightens again, your lips twitching into a smile. “I’ll try to open up more. Promise. I do feel really lucky I have you. And Sarah—and Tommy. Some nights I just wake up feeling bad. Yesterday was just a bit more intense.” Joel grunts in approval and you add. “Also hasn’t Tommy heard of the phrase ‘snitches get stitches’?”

“He wasn’t snitchin’,” he pouts, you want to take his bottom lip between your fingers and kiss him. “I actually asked how he was doin’ but he quickly brushed it off and told me about you instead.”

“Of course, he did.”

He nods but still seems wound up like a toy. His head drops a bit, the click of your tongue reminding him to keep still.

Your eyes trace the contours of Joel’s body. He’s an excellent specimen, everything about him so human, so raw. Every freckle, every crinkle you want to eternalize onto your canvas. He’s not looking at you anymore. Eyes glued to the legs of the easel. You still haven’t fully taken in the sight of him. Sometimes you’re truly afraid of how strongly you feel for him, how much you’d be willing to lay down just to be with him.

Honestly, a pocket of time would be ideal. That way you could spend eternity in this peaceful moment, living in bliss.

You place the pencil down and walk up to him. His gaze is drawn to your once more, “Sorry, sweet tea, did I move again?”

“Maybe a bit,” you lie, standing an inch away from his naked body. You press your thumbs against his cheekbones then slide them down, feeling the roughness of hair tickling your skin. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, before opening again.

You don’t say a word. Time is still around you and you believe if you try hard enough this can be your forever. You trace the outer lines of his lips, then trace the seam. His lips part, a bit of tongue showing in between—you touch that too, shallowly dipping one finger before moving on to his neck, “To draw is to feel,” you muster, the ball of your thumb grazing firmly over his Adam’s apple. “Will you let me feel you?”

“‘Course,” he chokes out. “Whatever you need.”

His words make your chest swell with affection. Joel’s words make you feel brave enough to allow your gaze to venture down. You press the flat of your palms over the swell of his stomach, something trembles within—life, you think, he’s so full of it. Your one hand dares to go lower, playing with the dark curls that lead to his soft cock.

However, he doesn’t remain soft for long, it twitches and grows, the head gaining a reddish hue.

Joel tilts his head, gradually leaning in to claim your lips with his own. He stops when your fingers bite into his bare hips, lodging into that delicate spot between bone and muscle, he swallows thickly, cock raising with attention.

“Stay still,” you whisper. “And maybe I’ll reward you.”

“Oh, we’re playing that game now?” he says with a crooked smile that makes your stomach twist delightfully. You only smile as your hand slides lower and lower, until you cup his semi-hard cock. His breath hitches.

I love you like this, you want to say but remain silent. You stroke him slowly until he’s fully hard, the warm muscle throbbing in your palm, you press your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin until his hips jerk.

“I’m not playing any games,” you mouth into his skin. “If you let me paint you, I’ll let you fuck my mouth. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

Joel thrusts into your hand once more, groaning as you lick the vein that throbs under his skin, “I won’t lie, sweetheart, that might be hard if you keep your hand where it is.” He exhales a shaky breath, the warmth of it fanning your skin. “But sounds fair enough, I’ll try.”

You press a quick kiss to the small patch within his beard and pull away before he can follow the heat of your lips. He’s as still as a statue when you get behind the canvas, but instead of resuming sketching the rough outline of his body, you grab two tubes of paint and a brush; though you have your doubts you’ll be using the tool, you’d much prefer to feel the heat of his skin softening the paint between your fingers.

When you come back to him, confusion crosses his face.

“I thought you were gonna be paintin’?”

Your lips twitch into a sinister smile, “I am.”

As cliche as it might sound, Joel has always reminded you of a deep, rich shade of red—the color of blood—but he also reminds you of an earthy purple, the type of shade that makes you want to bury your fingers in it as if you might actually feel the earth itself.

You shake two tubes of paint in front of his eyes. He’s still confused, yet remains still. You pop the red paint open first, squeezing a generous amount over his shoulder. You watch it trickle down, drops of crimson staining his torso, the color so deep that it looks too real. Your heart jumping, you quickly smear it down his chest and all the way to his stomach. Just like you predicted, the brush is forgotten, slipping from your fingers and onto the carpeted floor. Joel shudders, his breath caught in his throat, you see him clench his jaw.

“Darlin’. . .” he rasps, voice full of gravel, and your hand stops where it follows the V of his lower abdomen.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he answers quickly, breathily. “Don’t ever stop touching me. Don’t ever stop looking at me like that—like I’m the most valuable thing you have. Like I’m worth a damn.”

“You are.”

Slowly, your fingertip traces an invisible path upward, leaving a trail of red paint in its wake. Joel shudders and gulps loudly. You draw meaningless shapes, circle where his tattoo is, and draw shapes of ancient alphabets you vaguely remember from when you read a book about the Late Bronze Age. Joel shudders, twitches, and tenses under your touch but never actually moves, keeping his stance.

After the red pigment is nothing more but a fading shade of pink, you pour some purple paint into your palm and apply it directly. You press your hand directly above his heart, leaving your handprint over it before moving to his back, “Fuck,” he groans.

Looking down, you notice him clenching his buttocks and slightly swaying forward, you smile, his cock must be dripping. You can’t wait to take him in your mouth, for him to use you however he pleases. You need him to be desperate when he takes you, sliding his length down your throat as he berates you for taunting him with sinful touches in the guise of making art.

You press your hands together and smear the remnants of red with the purple, the fresh paint overwhelming the other. When both hands are fully coated, your cup both his ass cheeks, sliding your hands up, you kiss the taut skin between his shoulder blades. You leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to his neck and lick the sensitive spot behind his earlobe.

“I’d wrap my hand around your cock but I’m afraid the paint isn’t edible so you wouldn’t be able to fuck my mouth,” you tease. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Joel?”

He groans, “Keep this up and you’ll find out, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man, you should know.”

“But isn’t the wait fun?” you challenge, your hands sliding up to his front, right above his pelvis. “The taste of sex on your tongue, the way your cock throbs with the thought of my warm cunt tight around it? Don’t you feel that tingle. . .” you gradually lower yourself, dragging your tongue down his spine, a choked out sound rips from his throat, “going down your spine, reminding you of how good it’s finally going to feel when you push down my throat, cutting my airflow and taking me however you want?”

Joel breathes heavily, his stomach clenching with every whispered word, “Darlin’, please.”

“Turn around.”

You look up as he does, you gently take his hand and place it on your cheek, your heart dissolving into something thick and sweet like honey when his thumb strokes your skin. His gaze grows soft, the arousal in them dimming, splitting away like waves to show the emotion.

“Your knees are gonna hurt,” he says, voice dropping.

He’s right, they are going to hurt. “I don’t care.”

You lower both hands to your lap, obediently parting your lips, sticking your tongue out. Joel wraps a hand around his cock and jerks himself until he’s fully hard, he holds you by the hair and drags you closer.

“You want me to fuck that pretty mouth?”

“Please,” you repeat his own plea from earlier.

The heft of his cock on your tongue almost feels like a blessing from above. Your eyes flutter shut. Joel slides himself torturously slow, inch by inch, as he fills your mouth, your lips stretching wide to accommodate his width. He moves down your throat, awakening your gag reflex, you hold it down, choking around his cock.

“Fuuuuuck, that feels good,” he groans, throwing his head back. With shallow thrusts, he works your throat open. Your one hand slides between your thighs as the other braces against Joel’s thick thigh. Right now, you’re relieved you’re wearing your favorite flannel pajama shorts instead of something uncomfortable like jeans. “That’s it, touch yourself, sweetheart. I want you to come while I’m fuckin’ your throat.” You whine filthily at his words, pressing your fingers between your clothed folds, you stroke your aching clit. Joel doesn’t stop running his mouth. “You must be soaked down there, poor thing.”

Tears sting the corner of your eyes and you manage to slip your fingers down your shorts. His thrusts become rougher, sliding all the way out before fucking himself even deeper into your mouth, down your throat. You swallow helplessly around him and the groan that slips from between his lips forces the clench of your cunt, you breathe heavily through your nose and draw vicious circles around your clit.

“Look at you—you like me fuckin’ your mouth, honey?” You nod, his lips curling in the most devastating way. “You gonna come while rubbing that pretty pussy of yours?”

You nod again, this time accompanied by a moan. The reverberations of the sound trembles against his sensitive cock and he rocks into your mouth harder—this time tears do slip past your fluttering lashes. You can’t breathe, your vision is blurry, yet this is everything you’ve ever wanted. Your heart feels so full, so content. He fucks every thought out of your head, overwhelming your senses.

“Shit, shit, shit—Don’t look like that, sweetheart, don’t cry, if you do I—I’ll—” Spit trickles down the corner of your lips, everything a wet, sopping mess. With every thrust, he manages to go down your throat, his mouth constantly muttering words you can barely hear. More tears flow freely down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva and precome going down your neck. His hips move in a constant stammering motion, balls heavy on your chin as he snaps shallowly into your throat without pulling back.

You look up to him. Your eyes shining and glimmering, Joel meets your gaze, his eyes going wide, hips stilling—

He spills down your throat, hard.

You swallow, swallow, and swallow, gulping everything that he gives. But it’s still not enough, there’s too much, some of it spilling from the sides from where his cock stretches your lips. Your body jerks, your fingers move slowly around your clit and you press harder, your feel the warm slick dripping down your fingers, making a mess of the rug underneath.

“Sorry, sorry—” Joel mutters over and over again almost like a chant. His voice hoarse as his chest raises with quick shallow breaths. He then lets out a deep exhale, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he pulls out. “I wanted to last longer.”

You kiss the tip of his spent cock, “Come here,” you mumble and he quickly drops down, you take his hand, pulling it between your legs. His eyes snap to yours, pupils eating away the color as he presses two fingers into your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll and your hips immediately grind down. “I came too. I came from you fucking my mouth, Joel. That’s how good it felt. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Fuck, you’re really makin’ it hard to stay soft darlin’.” You smile as you cup his flaccid cock, feeling the weight of it in your palm, he hisses. “You’re gonna pay for teasin’ me, neighbor. ‘Should take you on my fuckin’ knee as punishment.”

A fresh gush of wetness spreads around his fingers, “I think I would like that,” you say, kissing his neck. “But now I think I should actually finish sketching you for my painting.”

“I don’t think I have much strength left in my legs,” he says with a chuckle.

“Who said anything about standing?” you stand up, taking him with you. “I’m going to paint something else and for that, I want you on the bed.”

You hadn't realized how much paint you managed to cover yourself in when you were pouring purple and red down Joel's shoulders.

He actually managed quite well when you asked him to lay on the bed instead of standing, and you’re fairly certain he dozed off for a moment or two. You didn’t mind. You loved how the painting had ended up, a sensual silhouette of a working man sleeping with sun cascading down his skin.

“Surprise surprise, pourin’ paint on me got you dirty too,” Joel coos playfully, following you into the dimly lit bathroom. He stuffs your bedsheets into the washing machine, your eyes catch the smear of red and purple paint. “Want us to take a shower beautiful? We still have time until Sarah comes back from school.”

“Someone’s cheerful now that they’ve taken their nap.” Joel holds you by the waist and pulls you close, unlike him, you’re still fully clothed—dirty, but clothed. His cock presses against the swell of your stomach.

“I’m mighty tired of bein’ the only one bearin’ my naked ass,” he tugs off your shirt, the motion so quick that your protest dissolves on your tongue before it can materialize. “Also you owe me a nice back scrub with all those fancy soaps you have.”

“I thought I paid my depth when you came down my throat.”

“I don’t recall sayin’ exactly how much you owed me for this.”

Your lips split into a grin. Without moving away, you bend over and slip out of your shorts, throwing them towards the washing machine. The flickering lustful specks in his eyes make your heart jump, they look like gold. Despite coming down your throat about forty minutes ago, he still wants you. He’s not tired of spending time with you, talking to you, humoring you in your endeavors— he’s not even mildly annoyed, which is something you thought everyone would feel eventually if they spent enough time with you. It was only a matter of when.

You suddenly slap your palms softly against his cheeks, cradling his scruffy cheeks. His eyes rip away from your naked body to meet your gaze. You take in a slow breath. And out. Your heart rams painfully within your chest. Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in your expression, observing you slowly as if he’s tasting what you’re feeling like aged wine. His fingers slither around your wrist and sliver down your forearms.

“Darlin’?”

“I love you, Joel.”

His lips part, not with surprise, but with relief. You’re smiling giddily now, not a feeling of worry in your bones, just happiness, eagerness. You don’t care if it’s too early. Too late. It’s what you feel. And all you feel is love love love.

“I love you too, Tea.”

Joel brings your palm to his lips and kisses the curve of it slowly, he moves up to the middle, his mustache tickling you when he lays another kiss, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

You close the distance, slanting your lips together, you drink him. His lips move to the beat of the moment, tickling down tenderly and smoothly like molasses. Joel’s tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open up for him. He tastes you quickly before pulling back. He exhales deeply, his breath fanning your swollen lips.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

You grin, raising an eyebrow, “So you can get me dirty again?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he huffs.

Joel leads you to the tub, acting as if you’re his guest and not the other way around. He turns on the shower, allows the water to run down his fingers until the temperature is just right, and then carefully helps you step in. You moan happily at the way warm water moves down your skin, softening your body and chipping away at the paint. Joel stands right behind you. You want to turn around, clean him of the colorful mess, but he doesn’t budge. His hands touch your shoulders, then skims down.

“You first,” he murmurs, fingers washing away the paint. You lean back. His hands follow a trail to your front, kneading your breasts.

“I don’t have any paint there,” you hum.

“My bad, these eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

He gives them another squeeze before going lower and lower. . . until he’s pushing his hand between your pressed tighs. You laugh, “I definitely don’t have any paint there.”

His teeth suddenly sink into your shoulder. The blossoming pain makes you gasp and your body reacts by bending over, rolling your hips towards him. With a soft growl, Joel grips your hips and pushes you up against the glass panel. You moan with your breasts pressing firmly against the glass, the constant shower of water making you slip.

Joel’s lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck you with my fingers,” he rasps. “Want you to come all around them, sweetheart.”

Your body flushes from the inside out, “What if I can’t?”

“You don’t have a choice,” he pushes forward, notching his cock between your folds, you whimper. “If you want me to fuck you with this cock, you better show me how desperate you are for it by makin’ a mess, honey.”

When you don’t answer he grips your neck and forces your head back, he kisses your forehead, “Are you gonna be good for me?”

Your stomach bottoms out, “Y—Yes, I’ll be good.”

He kisses your forehead once more before releasing you. You fall forward with a whimper, bracing your hands against the slippery panels. Joel slides two fingers inside of you with embarrassing ease, “You like it when I’m rough,” he states, thrusting the digits in and out. You nod. “I love you,” he then says, catching you but surprise. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles darkly. “God, you’re gonna make me go insane—I love you—”

You clench again, a loud moan dropping from your lips. The sounds you make are drowned by the water, yet he can hear you crystal clear. Your body reacts viscerally to his words, a flame that won’t ever go out burning wild in your gut—between your legs. He whispered the words into your skin, into your mouth, against your tongue. You push against his fingers, urging him to go deeper. He does. He holds you by the neck while fucking you with thick fingers, you cry out his name, whimpering those three little words that make him go inside just as much as it does to you.

“Come for me,” he grunts. “Come for me so I can fuck you for real.”

“J–Joel, fuck—”

Your back arches, your orgasm rips from you, he takes it. It’s violent, earth shattering.

Your jaw drops as he squeezes your throat lightly, the pressure adding to the intensity. You can vaguely hear him muttering ‘That’s it’ over and over, but you can barely hear the rasp of his voice.

Joel kisses your cheek, drags his lips down your neck, “How’re you feelin’?”

“Good. . . great actually.”

Pulling out his fingers, he pushes them between your lips, you lap at them hungrily. While you’re busy devouring your own taste, Joel buries himself deep in your cunt. You whimper around his fingers, brows furrowing with pleasure. He pulls the digits out and grips your chin. His chest heaves as he pulls almost all the way out before snapping forward again, burying himself into the tight warmth of your pussy.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles, rocking back and forth. With every thrust, your lungs convulse. You desperately grip his forearm, but your fingers slip thanks to the water droplets that surround his skin, him letting out a sudden chuckle before pulling you towards his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think I’m gonna last long now either. You make me feel like a teenager again.”

Throwing your arm back, you tug the damp locks and force your lips together. You lick hungrily into his mouth. Joel moans loudly and you swallow every little sound he makes, your cunt fluttering and clamping around his length. He pounds into you sloppily, no coordination, no calculation—just need.

To be wanted. To be devoured. What a wonderful feeling it was.

Joel pulls out with a grunt, you hear the slick sounds of his fist as he jerks himself over the curve of your spine. You shudder when you feel it. Warm spend trickling down your skin, mixing with the water. He spreads your ass cheeks and pushes them together with his cock between them, he grinds once—twice, before heaving and dropping his head between your shoulder blades.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but you hear no regret behind the apology. It makes you glad.

“Don’t be,” you turn and pick up the shower head, holding it right over his shoulders, you wipe the remaining paint away. Your stomach growls in protest, your lips twitch into a crooked smile. “God, all that worked an appetite. I’m starving.”

“Want me to cook you somethin’?”

Spraying the water over his other shoulder, you meet his gaze. He’s so sweet like this. His hair wet, curling at the ends. His body finally relaxed. You can’t help yourself and quickly press your lips into the corner of his jaw.

“I have a watermelon in the fridge, you can cut that up for me.”

“‘Course, darlin’. Anythin’ for you.”

Crickets chirp loudly. The wind pleasant, yet a bit too warm for your liking. You fan yourself with a hand as you lean back into the chair. Despite just taking a shower, you’re nearly dry. Summer is definitely not a good season for you.

“Should I be offended you look so miserable right now?” Joel asks, sitting next to you. He bites into one of the watermelon slices and when a drop of sweet nectar escapes, he makes quick work of licking himself clean. You swallow, your insides pulsing.

“No,” you sigh. “I just don’t like the heat very much.”

“Well. . that might be a problem considering summer is basically here.”

You groan and throw your head back, “Don’t remind me.”

“Here,” he says, extending you a slice. “Eat.”

You take the slice without objection, biting into the fleshy fruit. The cold juice of the watermelon feels good as it goes down your throat. You look over to the lawn, thanks to the heat most things have dried out.

“I helped him a lot you know,” Joel says, his voice soft, as if afraid to spook you. “With the garden that is. He talked a lot about you.”

“Did he now?” you muse, you chew the watermelon thoughtfully. Your eyes are glued to one of the butterflies in search of a flower. “I miss him.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. I know. I wish I could ease your paint, but truthfully I have no idea how to do that.”

“You do enough,” smiling, you turn to him and find that he’s already looking at you. “The silver lining is that I met you.”

He parts his lips, eyes glossed over with emotion but before he can, both of you hear small steps approaching at the same time.

“Oh, watermelon,” Sarah chirps, throwing her backpack to the floor. “Don’t mind if I do.”

She takes a slice and sits down, eyes flitting between you and Joel. You try not to look at Joel then, your heart beating a bit too loudly for your liking. Sarah raises an eyebrow and locks her eyes with Joel, their expressions are similar when they’re about to wreak havoc.

“What?” Joel snaps, angrily sinking his teeth into his watermelon, finishing it off. Both you and Sarah laugh, your heart feeling a bit lighter now.

“Oh, nothin’,” Sarah rolls her tongue, mimicking her dad. “What have you two been up to?”

“Your dad was helping me with the kitchen sink,” you answer quickly. “It’s been leaking all morning.”

“If my dad is good at anything, it’s fixing stuff.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Joel grumbles.

“How was school?” you ask.

Sarah’s shoulders fall a bit, but she quickly shakes it off and smiles, “It was good, nothing interesting happened.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t pry. Joel doesn’t seem to notice Sarah’s mood change. “We should better head off,” he says.

“But I’m still eating,” Sarah whines. “Can’t we stay a bit longer?”

“We don’t wanna overstay our welcome.”

You almost laugh at such an absurd thing. Him, overstaying his welcome? Never. But you also understand why he does it. Sarah is smart and by the looks she was giving you and him, she’s probably already suspicious.

“You guys should take half of it,” you say, standing up. “I’m only one person anyway. If I eat this much watermelon I’ll end up growing one inside of me.”

Both of them look at you deadpanned, you laugh, “You both have no humor!”

Sarah turns to Joel, “Dad, I think you might wanna check if her water is laced with something.”

“I think you’re right, baby girl,” Joel nods seriously. “There’s no other reason she would find that funny.”

“If you guys keep that up I’m not giving you squat.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” they say at the same time.

You shake your head, snorting at the father and daughter duo. Both of them were ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

However, you can’t seem to stop smiling as you head inside to get them a container to put the slices into.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller smut #stay in bed series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #scheduled

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ventique18 · 3 months

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Let me start with saying i love your blog really really much, this is something that has been rent free on my mind since Diasomia's arc started, is Malleus' father a dragon fae? I read the translations of chap 7 and i don't think i saw it mentioned, they just stayed vague on what kind of fairy he was, many fans started saying he was not a dragon, if that would be the case doesn't that mean Malleus is an half-blood!? The dragon bloodline isn't pure!?

Meleanor rejected many dragon suitors to marry the person she loved, whoever he was, why not say if Levan was a dragon or not, this is stressing me out. Especially since i saw the Crowley's theory.

Hi thank you so much for this question! I actually also wanted to address this, as I've seen some people (particularly on Twst EN Twitter and Reddit fandoms) who believe that the "Malleus is half Long because Levan is a Long" theory is canon. It's actually just one of the common theories which are:

He is a Long prince/noble.

He is simply a Raven fae. This is also why many believe that Levan is Crowley as both ravens and crows are collectively karasu in Japanese.

Let me put on a disclaimer that I'm leaning more on the theory that Levan might not necessarily be Crowley, but he is indeed a Bird Fae-- because his name does sound like Raven in the Japanese language, and the fact that Malleus' Platinum Jacket portrait has both Maleficent and her loyal raven Diablo in it. You are correct that there was never an explicit reveal on what he was though.

~ A short explanation on the first theory ~

So how did the first theory come to be? Because his official title in Briar Kingdom is 竜眼公 lit. Dragon Eye Lord. Some people have taken this literally and assumed that it means Levan is a dragon; more specifically, a Long. That's because the 竜 in his title is a kanji character and Twst happened to exactly distinguish in the Endless Halloween event an Asian Long 竜 (in kanji alphabet), and a western dragon ドラゴン (in katakana alphabet). Malleus specifies that he is a ドラゴン.

Now while theorizing that Levan is a Long is somewhat valid, it's less likely. Because a) it's common practice in Japanese to use kanji in formal titles and unusual to use katakana which is why ドラゴン was not used, which means b) Levan's "Dragon Eye Lord" title is just to indicate that he is Meleanor's eyes, as Lilia described him in the same chapter. This is also what Diablo's role is in the original movie.

~ Commenting on the theory that Levan is a Bird Fae ~

This is the most likely logical theory at this point, and you're correct that this means Malleus is half a dragon, half a bird. However, it's looking more and more like the fae are going with Mendel's Law of Inheritance with the Draconias' genes as extremely dominant that all other genes mixed in become recessive. Which means that while they're technically not pure-blooded dragons, the dragon genes will always appear in full view anyway so they might as well be pure. This is probably why Lilia mentions that the Draconias are "descended from dragons" rather than simply dragons. They may have varying fae species packed in their blood, but the dragon genes just completely cover them like a wallpaper lol.

Thanks so much for asking this! It was a fun write!

#twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia #papa draconia #meleanor draconia #ventique answers

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adventuringblind · 9 months

Text

Drive With You Forever

Chapter Five: Cats, Cluelessness, and difficult communication

Max Verstappen x Reader x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris

Chapter Summary: a brief interlude in the off-season before 2020, Sebastian adopts Charles, Max struggles to communicate his feelings, and the reader makes a new friend 👀

Warnings: mentions of SH, reader over does it again, seizure like episode, Lando is awkward, Charles is awkward, Max can't do feeling well yet, jos verstappen

Notes: ah yes, the gang is all here now. I have more action coming in the next part. Maybe also some fluffy stuff. I've been trying to get some blurbs done for what isn't shown in the long chapters because I've had to cut down on some things. I would love to give y'all some content of our duo, trio, or quartet doing something specific.

Previous <-

Masterlist

The end of the season means a bit of a break for the drivers. A chance to spend some time with their families. For her, it means spending time with Sebastian and Hanna in Germany.

The trio had wanted to officially introduce themselves. They knew, but the three barely got a chance to interact all together. It would be nice to catch up anyways.

They are all sat at the dining room table. Even the littles wanted to join in on the conversation. Mostly they spout of randomness as they listen but it’s still endearing to everyone.

The three are sat in a row. Charles far left, the female in the middle and Max on the right if her.

“So I’m curious, who gets the middle of the bed?” Seb laughs at his own question. Hanna playfully hits his shoulder. Charles and Max both look at her. She just rolls her eyes as they both start laughing.

“Are you three moving in together?” Hanna asks this time. Genuine curiosity, unlike her husband.

Charles almost chokes. He hadn’t thought about it.

He’s thankful he’s not the first to answer. “Are you saying you want me out?” It’s a playful question from the girl. She’s smiling like an idiot at the banter.

“Of course not. You’re welcome here forever.”

Max swallows his food then joins the conversation. “We were actually planning on moving some things to my apartment since we’re here.” Now Charles feels out of place. Was he not asked yet for a reason? They hadn’t been together long so it would make sense. “Charles lives in Monaco already so I figured his things would be easier to move.” Max explains.

Now he’s confused. Something Max can clearly see. They make eye contact for a moment and Charles is left a mess. “Unless you don’t want to anymore?”

Charles is shaking his head no at lightning speed. He definitely wants to. He’s tired of living alone and throwing himself pity parties over breaks. Plus, he learns he sleeps better when he's not alone.

Moving feels more sentimental to her this time. She had more stuff than when she was fifteen.

Sbeastion offered to let them fly private with him to help move her stuff to Monaco. She wanted to, but it was unnecessary. Most of her belongings that she needs fits into an extra suitcase.

Max and Charles both kept asking her if she had anything else. It was getting on her nerves a bit.

Hanna and Seb had done the same thing when she first came to Germay. Though she had less then. Hanna had taken her to get some new clothes because her t-shirts all had holes in them.

Flights were weird. The first class has two seats for each row, meaning that one of them got to sit somewhere else. They often played musical chairs on the plane because of this.

She'd always had an affinity for even numbers.

It was an interesting dynamic they had created. Charles and Max are barely a month apart, and she's just turned nineteen. They get to do things she can't yet. But she's gentle and knows exactly what they need and is far to gentle for what she's been through.

Charles felt that he was playing catch up with the other two. He was new to this and still new to them. He, however, was the best at communication between the three.

Max, having grown up in an interesting family setting, is aggressive and protective. His communication skills are lacking, but he would do anything to keep his significant others out of harms way.

Today was one of those days that Max was struggling communication wise. It had started after an intense phone call where the other two were attempting (and failing) at deciphering dutch.

She'd offered to sit next to him if he needed consoling, but he decided to sit further away from the two. Leaving them to figure out what happened.

This had brought the thoughts of even numbers. If they were flying with four of them, Max wouldn't be able to mope alone.

"Do you think it was Jos?" Charles asked. His eyes had been on the Dutch for most of the flight.

"I would assume so given that he was speaking Dutch, and he doesn't do that with many people."

Both sigh. Jos had been on Max's ass about moving up into a championship title. Che was ready to have some words, either him, next time they were together, and Charles was going to start making a point to celebrate every placement in a race.

It didn't take long to get to Max's apartment. It's not the most luxurious, but it's comfortable. He's planning to get something worthy of the three of them after he gets a title.

Max had successfully locked himself away in his bedroom. The other two left to figure out what he needs. Maybe it is just a time thing?

"Is he usually like this after a call with Jos?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "It depends on if he's praising or berating."

"Can we help him?" Charles is eyeing the closed door and her. His brain working out every way to get him to open up.

She smirks. There always one thing that cheered up Max.

Max was choking back tears. He felt weak. Like he was never going to he enough.

He felt bad for stomping off the way he did, but he didn't want his partners to see him like this.

He hears the soft rape of knuckles against the door. "Mon Amour? Can we please come in?"

He grunts, but the Monegasque takes it as approval.

Charles peeks his head in. His gentle steps are coming closer to Max. He doesn't look up. He just keeps his head buried in his pillow.

Charles doesn't say anything, which he appreciates. Just sits down on the edge and lets Max's body dip towards his. Then he's running his fingers through Max's hair.

It's not long before another set of footsteps are padding into the room. These ones softer then Charles, telling Max it's y/n.

She's successfully moved both Jimmy and Sassy into the room from their hiding spots and is holding his favorite movie. She sneaks in and closes the door behind her.

They spend the next couple of hours lying in bed with the cats and watching their movie.

Max feels himself calming down. They don't talk about anything. Aside from occasionally copying the lines from the movie they've watched far to many time.

It's after that he feels like he can say something. His mind finally grounded back to reality. "I'm sorry for shutting you both out. I was just... agitated, I guess."

The Monegasque has his fingers back in his hair in an instant. "It's okay, you needed space. Do you want to talk about it now?"

The youngest places sassy on his chest as a way to comfort him. Her hands intertwine with his.

"Just frustrated that my dad thinks I'm not trying. He started spouting that I'll never get anywhere at this rate."

"That a lie. Jos is obviously lacking brain cells." The youngest pipes. "I can throw him into a wall if you want?"

The idea actually makes him smile.

Charles was the next to move things in. Though it was mildly awkward explaining to his family why he was moving somewhere else.

Turns out he can't keep a secret. His family is accepting. Pascale welcomes both into her home. She takes a particular liking to the quiet girl who is still always between the two older boys.

His stuff takes up more of the apartment than hers. The contrast of red and blue is now showing everywhere.

"If Charles is red, Max is blue, and I'm always in the middle, does that make me purple?" She spouts while unpacking a box of ferrari shirts.

Max spits out the water he was drinking. Charles starts wheezing. And she is laughing at her own comment.

"Where did you come up with that, Chéri?"

"Just a thought I've been sitting on since we started dating."

"You're not wrong, though." Max is wiping his mouth clean from the water.

It's weird going places together. Not errands and things, but social gatherings. Charles has asked to keep things private for now. He's not fond of the questions people have about the nuances of their relationship.

They came and left separately. Usually, depending on who wanted to leave first, the other would wait about fifteen minutes.

A few months into the break, Lando Norris decides to call Max and invite him and his lover to a party. He does the same for Charles a minute after he hangs up with Max.

The three of you have to hold in your laughter as Charles tries to get through the phone call listening to the same details.

Despite what Lando said, this was not the type of party any of you are used to by now. At least not Charles and Max. She'd been to few and got overwhelmed by it all pretty quickly. Sometimes, she'd use it as an excuse to get the boys out of the apartment so she could have the cats to herself and play around with her powers.

Charles and Max both hate it when she does it alone. They've found her on the floor passed out on multiple occasions. She doesn't care, though. The visions and nightmares of her father were more reason to keep going.

Regardless, this party is small. Just a few drivers who had been in town or live in Monaco are here with their partners.

Kika and Pierre, George and Carmen, Alex and Lily, Carlos is here along with Daniel. Charles is seated in a solitary chair. The couches have been taken. Daniel and Lando on either side of him.

It feels nice and intimate in a way. She hadn't seen many drivers just get together to hang out like this.

Charles is ever the gentleman and offers her the chair, which she takes. Him and Max are now making themselves comfortable on the floor in front of her.

They're eating, drinking, laughing, and sharing stories from the past. It's nice and relaxing.

She taps Max's shoulder, alerting him that she's going for water and asking both boys if they need anything to which they reply no.

She spots Lando in his kitchen getting a drink. It's not an alcoholic one, just juice that looks like it could be alcohol.

She turns on his tap for water, and Lando jumps out of his skin. His eyes rapidly look between her and his cup.

"I like to mix my alcohol with juice...?" His voice sounds unsure. Does he think it's not okay to just have juice?

"Juice is a good choice, in my opinion. Alcohol is strong and feels funny sometimes."

Lando visibly relaxs. "Promise you won't tell anyone? They laugh at me sometimes when I do this."

"I promise."

Lando was around more after the party. He seemed comfortable around her and Max. He'd opened up about his anxiety to them and played far to many games with Max.

What they were not expecting was for Lando to show up at their apartment door at three o'clock in the morning. His breathing uneven body shaking like a leaf.

She knew what this was. She'd had plenty of panic attacks.

She guides him inside to the couch and is trying to asses the situation. Get his breathing to calm down so he doesn't hyperventilate.

It takes ten minutes until he's calm.

"Did something happen?"

"Just a nightmare, and I couldn't calm down after."

"Did you walk here?"

He nods his head yes. Exhaustion flooding his eyes.

"Is Max asleep?" He asks.

"Should be. He sleeps like a rock most of the time." They both giggle. Lando is now able to relax in a calm environment.

They are interrupted by two sets of footsteps. Charles and Max come barreling into the living room. Panic on their faces one minute and embarrassment the next. Lando staring at the with the utmost confusion.

The older boys are shirtless and in sweats. Max's arm protectively outstretched in front of Charles.

"...oops."

Lando is not stupid. He may be the youngest on the grid currently, but he's not stupid.

He saw how the three of them looked at each other. Charles definitely touched them both far more than what friends do.

Originally, he thought he was crazy for watching them. Yet he couldn't help but be intrigued. How they all interacted. How they just flowed together.

Now he sits on their couch. Max looks like he's guarding Charles and y/n. The Dutch has yet to sit down and is leaning against the wall. Charles is sitting across from him with the females head in this lap. His fingers running through her hair.

It's a terrible feeling. Like he's left out of whatever this is. Three of his best friends spend all their time together, and he's just here. Young and naïve Lando.

"Did you have a feeling this would happen, Mijn liefje?" Asks Max from his perch on the wall. She shakes her head no in response.

Lando had heard about her knack for predicting future outcomes. He'd heard rumors about magic and tarot cards, but she'd never said anything to him.

"Well, you're welcome to stay here in the extra bedroom, and I can't take you home in the morning."

"That sounds nice, thank you."

She woke up exhausted. She felt guilty for not having warned Max and Charles. Her mind to far gone that they were mad at her. She spent her night trying to get any glimpse of their future but didn't get anything useful.

She hid herself away in the master bathroom. The wet towel and the floor her new best friend.

She could smell breakfeast. Max is cooking for all of them. They learned quickly not to let Charles cook. Lest they all die.

She was in bed with them this morning. Only crawling out from their hold when she felt them stir.

Every question puts her further into the fog. Was she going to lose them? Are they upset with her? Is Lando okay with them? Would he tell people?

It's too much for her head.

She goes for another attempt. She knows she's overdoing it. The further she goes with less time in-between brings her closer to the edge of her body going numb.

Nausea creeps into her stomach, but she sees them. Further down the line. Happy and four.

Four? This could be shocking, and yet somehow, she already knew. Her mind just needs a but of confirmation that it's possible.

The nausea gets stronger. Her nose is bleeding heavily. She pushed it past the limit.

They won't mind, though.

Max is making breakfast and quietly humming to himself. Charles has his hands on his hips, the two of them swaying back and forth to the tune.

"Do you think I should go check on her?" Charles mumbles into his shoulder.

"She may want space after last night, she was taken off guard and might need to peocess." He explains, then turns his attention back to the pan.

"I'm worried, though. She was crying last night after Lando went to bed, and I don't think she slept."

Lando slides around the corner. His face lighting up at the smell of food. "Can I... can I have some?"

Max laughs at the Brit's excitment. "Of course. I made enough for all of us."

Lando sits himself on top on the counter. Watching the Dutch and Monegasque lean into each other. He takes notice that someone is missing. "Is y/n okay?"

Both boys sigh with heavy concern. "She had a rough night." Explains Charles. His body is fighting the urge to go get her. "I can't take it anymore, I'm going to check on her."

Charles leaves Max and Lando in the kitchen. His legs taking long strides back to the bedroom.

"So you guys all sleep together? Not like sexually- I guess - I mean at night to sleep."

Max smiles at the Brit. His curiosity was nothing he didn't expect. "Yeah, we pile into the same bed at night. All of us sleep better that way."

Lando hums. His palm rubs his face with anxiety. "Would you ever add a fourth?-'m asking for a friend..."

Max already knows. Somehow, someway, he already knows where this is going. "Depends. It took months of discussion before Charles joined us. But I'm sure if the right person came along, we'd be open to it." Max turns around to face Lando and shoots him a reassuring smile.

Lando's cheek tint pink, and Max knows exactly what he wants.

Charles leclerc is usually someone who panics. This time was no exception.

He'd seen plenty after his six months of being together with his partners. Particularly how the femal among them is prone to violent behaviors against herself. He's seen all of her powers now and how they affect her if she uses them too much. He's been there to help soothe her after night terrors while Max fetches her water.

He was glad she opened up to him about her past more. He knew the generally what had gone on but no details, nothing like what he knew now.

The prospect of her father coming back for her at some point is what drover her to the breaking point on most days.

Now, Charles is faced with a locked door and the sounds of thrashing from the other side. He'd tried picking the lock, something him and Max both learned to do after instances like this, but his hands are far too shaky to maneuver the pins.

So he does the only other logical thing and breaks the door down. Only enough that he can lean it somewhere and not let it fall on her, but it felt cool to kick it in.

Charles has seen a lot of things, but this is completely new. Her muscles are tensing at a rapid speed, and her eyes are rolled back into her head. Her breathing movements are unatrual.

"Max!"

It takes ten seconds, and he's there. His body and mind reacting to the situation. He's trying to hold her in his arms. Attempting to wake her up from whatever trance she's in.

Max hisses through his teeth when he touches her. Her skin in his searing his hands. Yet, he pushes through.

Charles feels helpless. "What can I do?"

"This has happened before. She must have forced a vision. She'll come out of it, we just need to make sure she dosen't die in the process."

The two boys are then lifting her body of the floor. Charles now carries her to the bed while Max runs around grabbing things. Mostly ice to cool her down. Charles rambles on to her about nothing and everything. Max said they should talk to her, giver her some to help bring her back.

Both of them forgot they left Lando in the kitchen. The Brit left to finish making breakfast in light of their emergency. Again, they are shocked to see his pale face watching the scene unfold before him.

"Can I help?" Is all he can manage.

"Do you want to trade places with me? I think the liquid benadryl might help."

Lando is taking over for Max tentatively. He takes the ice pack from the Dutch and places it on her forehead.

Lando can see the sweat and tears mixed with fresh blood. It's scary, and he's nervous. Why are they not taking her to a hospital?

Normally, she's the one calming him down. She always knows exactly what he needs to hear. He's not been in this position, and it scares him to see her like this.

He slides one hand down to her bicep. His fingers tap out the melody to her favorite song. A trick she used on him to bring him back to earth when he got in his head.

About halfway through, she's sucking in a breath, her body sitting straight upwards. Her eyes are no longer stuck to the inside of her head. She's still sweating like mad, and her body is twitching, but she's awake.

She's breathing heavily. Dry heaving and coughing into herself. Her hands are quick to find Charles and grasp at him, searching for the familiar comfort.

Lando watches her intently. Her sobs are painful. They sound broken, like whatever she's just been through was some sort of of torcher.

"Chéri, can I set you with Lando for a moment? I need to tell Max you're awake." Charles whispers gently. Lando takes note of how he's cradling her. His hands on the back of her head and under her legs to support her weight.

She barely nods her approval. Her body is slid close to Lando, who embraces her. Attempting to replicate what Charles was doing. He finds himself tapping the same melody on her knees.

"Was that you tapping? When I was asleep?" She chokes.

"Yeah, could you feel it."

She nods her head against his body. "You brought me back, thank you."

Lando lets his body relax into hers, knowing he at least did one thing right today.

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perotovar · 6 months

Text

into the beat of the night (ch 1) "transmission"

gif by me, moodboard by the lovely @sp00kymulderr ♥

pairing: frankie morales/nb!oc (they/them) rating: T (for now) chapter warnings: discussions of sexuality/gender (frankie doesn't understand some things and may use language that would be harmful, but it's not intentional), limited knowledge of the military, goth stereotypes abound, mentions of drug addiction/recovery, swearing, cute shit word count: 2.7k dividers by @saradika

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series summary: frankie morales thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

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a/n - i can't thank y'all enough for giving my fic a chance! i'm really nervous about posting it since i haven't properly written anything in years, but i've had some lovely cheerleaders (@scenaaario - who is also my lovely beta, i want to kiss you on the mouth for making this fic sound like i wanted it to ♥♥ - @undercoverpena @mrsquill and @kedsandtubesocks i love you guys ♥) along the way that gave me the motivation to post this little story. comments and reblogs are super appreciated! i'd love to hear what y'all think <3

In 1994, the U.S. adopted “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” as the official federal policy on military service by lesbian, gay and bisexual individuals. It was officially repealed in 2011. Seventeen years. For seventeen years, LGBTQ folks, Frankie included, had to hide. At least, he felt he needed to.

He knew he was bisexual when he and his childhood best friend Mateo were in their sophomore year of high school. Frankie and all the other boys started to hit puberty the year before and things were changing: facial hair was slowly growing, voices were dropping. Mateo started to develop a little faster than Frankie did. Frankie really liked how Mateo was developing. It was a little weird, because they’d been best friends since they were still wearing underoos, but Frankie started to feel things whenever he hung out with Mateo. Things he normally only felt whenever Alana in third period flipped her hair over her shoulder, or whenever Charlotte in fifth period stretched before she started writing and her sweater pulled over her chest a little too much.

Frankie didn’t know what to do with this information or these feelings. He didn’t have a word for any of it, so he just never said anything. He had a couple girlfriends throughout high school, and to anyone who cared to think on it, would see that Frankie was like any other straight, high school boy.

In 1994, Francisco Morales joined the military. He was nineteen. It was never his plan growing up to join, but his dad always wanted him to. When he didn’t have his own plan after high school, he figured it was a safe bet since he had family in the service. While there, he worked his way up in the ranks and eventually met his brothers: Santiago, Benny, Will, and Tom. They would die for each other, had signed up to do so, in fact. He’d grown closest to Santiago, and it was the first time since he was 15 that he got those feelings again. He pushed them to the side, though, because that’s when she came into his life. He didn’t need those feelings getting in the way.

Frankie’s bisexuality really only came into his life a couple of times. His first girlfriend in the military, Layla, was also bisexual and that’s when he learned what the word was and that it also applied to him. She only ever told him since Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was in full swing. Of course he kept her secret, because she also kept his.

The only one of his group of brothers that didn’t know about his sexuality was Tom. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell him, and the others agreed it was best to keep it quiet. Santiago was the first one to know, then Will, and finally Benny. Ben was Ben about it when he found out. He immediately hugged Frankie and excitedly suggested they go to a gay bar instead of their usual hang out. It made Frankie laugh and Will smacked Ben on the back of the head. (They did end up going to a couple of gay bars from time to time. Frankie only went home with a guy once and the guys gave him a lot of shit for it, asking for details. Santiago gave him a smile and patted him on the back and said, “I’m glad you’re finally here, hermano.”)

Frankie had one man he’d consider a “boyfriend” in his life. After he left the military and after DADT was repealed, he went on a bit of a binge. He started hooking up with people more often, despite his introverted nature. He was always careful, safe, and eventually kept to one man for a couple years, before an especially messy breakup. They were both pilots in the military, but were based in different states; Frankie in Florida, and Jackson in Kentucky. They bonded quickly after meeting at a nightclub in Nashville. Neither one of them remembers why they were there, but they made it a point to see each other frequently, each of them taking turns flying out to see the other.

The breakup happened after Jackson found Frankie’s stash for the last time. The military affected everyone differently. For Frankie, his coke addiction is what got him through the sleepless nights. Jackson had found Frankie one too many times leaned over the back of a toilet and snorting god knows what. Jackson had his own problems with drugs and felt that Frankie ignored them in search of his next fix. Addiction had completely taken over Frankie’s life for the better part of five years. Frankie hated Jackson for leaving him when he most needed him, and lashed out, accusing Jackson of only ever wanting to fuck. That broke Jackson, as he thought about how deeply he loved Frankie. Gay marriage was legalized a year later, and had things panned out differently, they might still be together. He doesn’t blame Jackson for leaving anymore.

Frankie’s daughter, Marisol, changed everything. She was the love of his life, and he would do anything for her. After going back to his days of sleeping around after Jackson left, he met Maya. He kept telling her that he would get clean and go to therapy while she was pregnant, but not until he held his little Marisol in his arms for the first time did he commit to both. He and Maya never planned on being together officially, and decided co-parenting would be their best option.

He’d been clean and sober for two years by the time Santi told him about the Colombia job. He hadn’t flown, or been allowed to in that time, and was pretty content to never do so again. Every time he got in the pilot’s seat, it would take him to terrible places. But Santi was his best friend, so he took the job. He relapsed when he got home, after Tom. He never blamed Santi for it. He gave Frankie a choice, and where he could’ve said no, he didn’t.

Which brings him to where he is now, two years after Colombia. He’d crossed the street and stood in line for the entrance. He hadn’t been to this nightclub in a while. He looked up at the sign for the club, and raised an eyebrow. The Night Owl. That… isn’t what it was called last time. Was it sold? Apparently, it had recently undergone a rebranding, with new owners, and a slightly… different clientele.

The best way he could describe it now was that it was a goth club. Frankie had never personally been to this sort of club, not really being a fan of the music or subculture, but never had a negative opinion either. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he entered, the bouncer giving him a once over and chuckling, but letting him in anyway.

He made his way over to the bar and had a seat, taking in his surroundings and started people watching. He planned on going out tonight, and possibly go home with someone. A club is a club, so he decided to stick around and see what all the fuss was about.

The walls shook with the heavy bass and beats of the music. It wasn’t like anything he’d heard before. His nostrils filled with the scent of clove cigarettes and hairspray. Everywhere he looked, someone completely decked out in teased hair and black clothing caught his attention. He smiled softly at all the variations in people’s style, wondering how long it took for all of them to get ready in the morning.

The bartender, a large man with heavy eye makeup and a lot of chains and spikes, came up to him and smirked. He felt a presence behind him and when Frankie finally faced forward again, he startled a little, not expecting such an imposing figure to be giving him a staredown.

“What’ll you be havin’, stripes?”

“Stripes?”

The bartender, who had a patch sewed onto his denim vest that read “Viper”, rolled his eyes and gestured vaguely to Frankie’s whole self. “You mean to tell me you’re not military?”

Frankie blinked a couple times and huffed a laugh. “Ex-military, yeah. Is that… okay?”

Viper gave him a long look, eyes slightly narrowed, and pointed to one of the many tattoos on his arm, up high on his shoulder. It was an old one, a little faded, but Frankie recognized it as the stripes given to Sergeant Majors. “I left after this. Got injured,” he said.

“Sorry to hear that.”

Viper shrugged and reached under the bar, cleaning a glass. “I’m not. So what’re you havin’?”

Frankie thought about it for a second. “I’ll probably regret this, but surprise me.”

An amused look crossed Viper’s features, but he nodded and started mixing a drink for him. Frankie noticed all the ingredients used; lager beer, hard cider, and some kind of syrup. He raised a brow and picked up the glass as Viper slid it across the bar for him. Frankie gave him a look as if to say, ‘Is this safe?’ despite having just watched Viper make it. The bartender chuckled and just gestured for him to give it a try.

Frankie took a deep breath and gulped down a drink. A little foam was stuck to his mustache when he lowered the glass from his face. “Not bad. What is it?” Frankie asked.

“Snakebite. Kind of a staple around here,” Viper hummed, cleaning a different glass.

Frankie chuckled at the name. Of course that’s what it was called.

Viper was pulled away when a pretty girl with big, teased hair and dark makeup came up to the bar. Frankie took the opportunity to look around the place again.

The music was best described as “dark” and “broody”, unsurprisingly, with slow tempos and even lower vocals. Everyone on the dancefloor was slowly swaying back and forth and, once in a while, would move their arms in ethereal shapes.

Frankie remembered seeing one of the younger teachers at Marisol’s daycare wearing a t-shirt with a band logo that looked like a bundle of sticks. He tried figuring out what it said once, but was too afraid to ask, so he still doesn’t know. He doesn’t think she’d be at this kind of club.

“You’re new. Bit like a zoo your first time here, I bet.”

Frankie startled, putting his hand over his heart and turned to look at who was talking. Someone had sat next to him and was grinning, taking a sip from their own drink; something dark red and a little cloudy. He blinked a couple times and took in their features; big green eyes rimmed with dark lines, two different nose piercings, and black lipstick. Their hair was long and straight, dark, and with the right side in front of their ear shaved completely. He couldn’t quite figure out if who he was talking to was male or female, the androgyny of their look very clear.

“Uhh, hello?” They waved their hand, full of rings and black nail polish, in front of his face and chuckled quietly. “Oh! Maybe–” They cut themselves off and started making a bunch of symbols and shapes with their fingers and hands.

Frankie blinked and started laughing softly. “I’m not deaf! Sorry,” he grinned. “You just startled me, that's all.”

“Oh!” The stranger laughed, too, putting a hand on his right knee in a friendly gesture. He looked down at the hand and smiled, his heart skipping a beat. Even if he didn’t know very much about them, he couldn’t deny it; they were very pretty.

He removed his cap and ran his fingers through the unruly curls for a second before putting the hat back on. “Sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, it’s my first time here. I didn’t realize the club had changed owners.”

“It did?” They asked, tilting their head to the left slightly.

“Yeah, it was a– Uh, last time I was here, it was a… different kind of club,” Frankie mumbled.

The stranger’s eyes twinkled mischievously, the smirk still present on their lips. “What kind of club? Are you secretly into some really heavy BDSM type stuff?” They wiggled their eyebrows.

Frankie had started taking a drink of his Snakebite again and nearly choked on it at the stranger’s teasing. He coughed a couple times, a wide grin on his face. “No! Nothing like that,” he chuckled.

The stranger snapped their ring-clad fingers like they were hoping he’d say otherwise and slumped their shoulders in disappointment. “Damn…”

Frankie’s cheeks warmed at the insinuation, but laughed, convinced they were just joking with him. He cleared his throat and continued, “Y-Yeah, uh, I wasn’t expecting this kind of… group, when I came by. Although, the name of the place probably should’ve warned me.”

“What kind of group?” The stranger grinned, watching his handsome features change from thoughtful to concerned.

Frankie panicked, worried he’d somehow offended them, and cleared his throat again. “N-Not that there’s anything wrong with– Um! I don’t, actually… know,” he tapered off, looking down as he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

The stranger snorted and waved him off. “I’m fucking with you,” they laughed. “I know what you mean. When I heard a new club opened up closer to my apartment, I got pretty excited. No more hour-long drives to the nearest one, y’know?”

Frankie nodded, their low, smooth voice captivating him the longer they spoke.

“Oh! Meant to say this before, but my name’s River,” they smiled and held their hand out to him to shake.

“Frankie,” he answered, holding his own hand out to return the gesture. But River beat him to it, and gripped his long, thick fingers in their own hand and kissed the back of his softly.

Frankie blushed like mad, eyes widening slightly. No one had ever kissed his hand before. He kept his eyes downcast, his hand still securely in River’s grasp.

River tilted their head, brows furrowed in concern before letting go of his hand. “Sorry, was that–?”

“No! N-No, um…” Frankie smiled shyly, tugging at a loose curl behind his ear. “It was fine– Nice, actually.”

River grinned as if they had clocked him immediately. “Well, Frankie, it was very nice meeting you. Will I see you here again?” They asked, looking him up and down.

Frankie found himself nodding before he could say or do anything else. “Y-Yeah, absolutely. Um, how–?”

“My song just came on, and I simply must dance to it. Later,” River winked, stood, and leaned over to kiss Frankie’s cheek as they slipped something into the front pocket of his flannel shirt.

River was gone before Frankie could ask anything else, his eyes following after them as they reached the dancefloor. He watched them dance for a few minutes before he was brought out of it by someone clearing their throat behind him. He spun around and saw Viper, the bartender, leaning toward him and giving him a look.

“You gonna pay for these drinks?” He grumbled, motioning toward Frankie’s Snakebite and whatever River was drinking.

He followed Viper’s tattooed finger and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his wallet out and putting a couple bills on the bar. Viper nodded in thanks and Frankie took that as his cue to leave.

As he stood, he looked toward the dancefloor again in the hopes of seeing River one last time. When he didn’t, he tried to shake himself off and made his way toward the entrance. The bouncer gave him a look and Frankie just shrugged as he exited the club. The cool night air hit his still-warm cheeks, making him feel like he came back to reality.

“Oh, right,” he mumbled to himself and reached into his front pocket and pulled out a little scrap of paper. A phone number with two cute little devil horns drawn on either side and a little, ‘text me?’ written down beneath it.

Frankie smiled to himself and rubbed the ink on the paper with his thumb.

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