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#he’s the only one here who makes (relatively) good choices
quietwingsinthesky · 1 year
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I stand by the fact that the archangels have a single braincell between the four of them, and Gabriel is the one who has custody of it.
#he’s the only one here who makes (relatively) good choices#the bar is low but. he’s got his niche in the world. Thee Trickster#he’s like. mostly happy with the life he has. sure haunted by the one he lost/ran from#but also had the capacity to realize that getting the hell out of dodge was his best option and he was RIGHT#to anyone who sees this and goes: ‘no but isnt Raphael-‘ shut up silence shush#you don’t understand them like I do. you have been fooled by their regal demeanor and terrifying grief.#need I remind you. blew out the eastern seaboard for kicks. had to make sure Chuck didn’t accidentally kill himself falling down the stairs#every other day. saw that the apocalypse didn’t work and decided the logical conclusion was to just Do It Again But Better This Time#THEY HAVE WINGS MADE OF LIGHTNING PURELY FOR THE FUCKKNG DRAMA OF IT.#if you gave them both the same task. you might not be able to predict how either of them would solve it#but you could work back how Gabriel came to his conclusion and go yeah okay that probably made sense to you#raphael is going to return whatever problem you asked them to solve to you. and it will be solved. sure. but it will probably also be#unrecognizable as whatever you handed over. if you gave Raphael a pickle jar to open. well. it would be open. somehow it would not have#pickles in it anymore. you should probably not eat whatever is in there. it might bite you.#whereas if something in Gabriel’s pickle jar bites it’s because he thinks you’re a dick and it would be funny if a pickle bit your finger#I’m losing control of this metaphor#Michael & Lucifer aren’t even in the running btw. og bad decision bros.#supernatural#spn
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everyonewooeverywhere · 2 months
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MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED
pairing ✭ fuckboy!mingi x party girl!reader (feat. best friends/roomates!woosan)
synopsis ✭ you like to party but that doesn’t mean you’re always down to fuck, so, when notorious fuck boy song mingi takes an interest in you, you’re certainly wary of him. but something about his insistence and willingness to go the extra mile is incredibly attractive. when they see you start to play into him, though, your best friends wooyoung and san do everything in their power to keep you away from him. so mingi has no choice but to fly under their radar.
content/genre ✭ smut MDNI 18+, fwb/situationship to ???, undefined relationship, secret relationship
word count ✭ 5.3k
warnings ✭ alcohol consumption (not during/before sex), protected sex, slight dirty talk, fingering, sex is pretty vanilla
✭✭✭✭
CHAPTER 1: SWEET TALKER
The scene was very familiar to you. A packed bar on a Friday night. A skimpy outfit that made you feel good. Loud music that shook through your body, lyrics drowned out by the heavy bass and mass of people. All of that on top of a drink in your hand paid for by a guy you knew full well you were not going home with. It was the recipe for a perfect night.
You certainly weren’t a stranger to a good party. And this one wasn’t any different from the others. The drink in your hand was free, paid for by the pretty stranger you were talking to. His name completely slipped your mind, but you didn’t really need to remember it because, moments after catching your eyes from across the bar, your friend slipped his arm over your shoulder.
When you looked up at him in mock surprise, he kissed your forehead. He turned to look at the guy you were talking to, one who was mildly surprised to find out you had a boyfriend.
Despite his surprise, though, he piped up anyway, “Can I help you? We were kinda talking here.”
Wooyoung shook his head and laughed, “I don’t really appreciate guys buying drinks for my girl and trying to hook up with her.”
“But–”
“We’ll be on our way actually,” Wooyoung cut off the nameless man, leading you away with his arm still around your shoulder. 
It wasn’t until the two of you made it to the tall table where your friend San was standing that he dropped his arm from your shoulder.
Immediately, though, Wooyoung glared at you, “Was the drink worth it?”
“Honestly, not really,” you laughed, “His taste kinda sucked.”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes. You playfully nudged his arm with your elbow, “You’re just mad you can’t anyone to pay for your alcohol that isn’t San.”
“I only pay because he never stops whining,” he glared at your friend. “And it’s not like I’m gonna drink tonight either,” he said, taking a sip of the Coke in his hand.
“You don’t have to be the designated driver every weekend, San,” you told him, “Wooyoung knows how to drive, too.”
Wooyoung scoffed, “You bitch. You know how to drive. Why don’t you ever offer?”
“Because you are a gentleman, and you would never make me drive you home after a long night.”
“That’s some bullshit logic.”
You shrugged, “It works on San.”
“You know I don’t mind,” San chimed in, trying to break up this completely unnecessary argument.
You knew, but pushing Wooyoung’s buttons was always fun, especially when he was tipsy. Turning away from the table, scanning the bar. It was relatively early, only around ten, but the bar was packed with mostly students from your university. They hung around the bar and danced on the floor. It was a typical Friday night for a lot of students at your university. Since the bar was only half a mile from campus, you’d be hard-pressed to find a body in here who didn’t attend your school or know someone who did. Despite that, most of these people you had never seen before in your life. 
Song Mingi was not one of those people. 
Personally, you had only ever interacted with him in passing. Mostly with his friends. When they bought you a drink hoping you’d come back to their place. The majority of them had failed (in fact, only one of them had ever succeeded). But you knew his name at least, and you were pretty confident he knew yours.
He had never really tried. Probably because you had a reputation for rejections. Most guys, fortunately for your wallet, saw this as a challenge, and you were never gonna turn down free stuff.
From where he stood across the bar you could tell he was staring at you. Even with his stupid sunglasses on. He was staring at you with complete disregard for the fact that there was already a girl on his arm. You saw his eyebrows raise above the glasses as if he was greeting you without tipping off the girl with him. You rolled your eyes a looked back over at San who was sliding around the table to your side. 
“He’s been watching you all night.”
“Really?” you titled your head, minorly intrigued. Maybe “minorly” was a lie because you could hardly ignore the butterflies in your stomach at knowing that fact.
“Y/n…”
You side-eyed him, “What?” 
You knew “what.” Of course, you did. That much was obvious from the girl on his arm who he was pretending to pay attention to. Mingi went through girls like they were busy work. Checking them off like boxes and moving on to the next. As far as you know, he hadn’t had a girlfriend in your four years of attending the university, and you weren’t delusional enough to believe that the attention he was giving you was anything special.
As much as you despised a fuckboy, though, you would be a fool to deny that Song Mingi was the epitome of your type. Tall, dark hair, great style. Dressed in all black and adorned with carefully chosen silver jewelry. Sometimes you wondered why all the hottest guys you knew were the ones who were almost certainly never going to settle down. San would be the one to tell you to reassess your type, but listening to San was something you didn’t do very often (even though he was always right).
“I know you, and you do not want to mess around with him.”
“Correction, I don’t want to date him. I would very much like to mess around with him.”
San looked at you disapprovingly, “You and I both know that you don’t go home with guys because you know you’ll catch feelings for a one-night-stand. Tell me how the fuck you’re going to mess around with him and keep it purely casual.”
He was right, as per usual. You weren’t really the type to be able to separate romantic feelings from your sex life. God, you had surely tried, but each attempt had ended in disastrous heartbreak. And you had no reason to believe that this would be any different.
“One drink couldn’t hurt.” You were desperately trying to reason with him. Well, you were more trying to reason with yourself, but San was there to be of assistance.
“Ask him why the fuck he’s wearing sunglasses inside at night,” Wooyoung chimed in from behind you.
“Stop encouraging her.”
“Ok, dad,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes and took a sip of the Coke San had left on the table.
“It’s fine, Sannie, I’m not gonna fuck him. I’ll just talk to him, and maybe dance with him. That’s it. I’ll still come back here, and we’ll all go home together. Ok?”
Despite San’s major disapproval, you made your way back up to the bar. If he wanted you that bad, he’d come to you. You certainly weren’t going to make the first move here. If he wanted to get closer than just checking you out.
Inevitably, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was Wooyoung, and he was letting you know that Mingi was making his way toward the bar. 
In order to avoid another mediocre drink, you started ordering a drink for yourself. When the bartender asked for your card at the end of your order, you started digging around in your clutch. Mingi knew your game. He knew full well, as he approached you, that that clutch held absolutely nothing of monetary value. And he was right of course, you had brought it for the sole purpose of holding your phone and a tube of lip gloss. 
“Go ahead and make two of those,” Mingi reached over your shoulder and handed the bartender his card.
You looked up at him, eyes wide, faking your surprise, “Oh! Thank you.”
“Of course, anything for a pretty girl who goes to bars without a wallet” he smiled down at you. Leaning against the bartop.
Laughing, you shrugged, “I don’t need to why pretty boys are willing to pay for my drinks.”
“So you knew I would pay before you even got up here?”
“Please, I could practically feel you staring at me all night,” that was fully a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Couldn’t help myself. You look great it black,” He gestured to the minidress you wore. It was one of your favorites, so it felt good that he seemed to like it, too.
You grabbed at the jacket he was wearing, running your thumb over the fabric, “So do you.”
The bartender slid your drinks to you, and Mingi picked both of them up. His fingers brushed your own as he handed it to you. 
The two of you chatted and flirted for the better part of an hour. The time honestly flew by. You looked over at your friends to see that some more people had gathered around their table. Great. That meant you had time. San chatting away with people meant he wasn’t ready to leave. And you wanted to dance with Mingi. So you for sure weren’t ready to leave. You looked out over the dance floor, it was still super lively. Just crowded enough for you to have fun. 
When you set your empty glass down on the bar, Mingi grabbed your hand. He nodded toward the dance floor you were looking at so longingly, “You wanna dance?”
You shrugged nonchalantly, “sure.”
✭✭✭✭
Dancing with Mingi was incredible. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the fact that he looked so fucking good under the low lights of the bar, but holy shit. 
The rings on his hand dug into your waist where his hands were holding you against him. With your head leaned back against his chest, you could feel his breath on your neck. He groan slightly ever time you gripped his hair. It was such a subtle groan that you could only really feel it reverbrate of hiss body. 
When he turned you around in his arms, you where quick to place yours over his shoulders, pushing your chest into his. He smirked down at you with both of his hands resting on the lowest part of your back, any lower and he fully would have been groping you.
You danced with him for an indecerable amount of time. You were sweating from the amount of bodies in the room, and you can tell Mingi is too from the sheen on his forehead. 
Moving a hand from his shoulder you grabbed the sunglasses, his stupid fucking sunglasses, and lifted them up onto his head. Looking into his eyes for the first time, he winked at you. You laughed and rolled your eyes.
He pulled you closer to him, as if it were even possible. You tangled your hands in his hair as the two of you danced together. Communicating with nothing but body movements. Everything was hot, from the air in the room, to his hands on your back. You felt nothing but pure dopamine infused ecstasy. 
Most of the time, the men who bought you drinks spent their time with you bragging about themselves and telling you how good you looked in whatever outfit you had opted for that night.
It was rare that you actually had fun with them. That was usually reserved for your friends.
Maybe it was the fact that you had already decided on not going home with him, though that decision was sounding more and more unappealing as the night went on, or maybe it was because you were dancing with a man who just knew how to have fun. 
There were no thoughts in you head other than the utter giddiness you felt when his hands squeezed your waist or when his head dipped to your neck as he breathed something in your ear.
Nothing could take you out of this moment. Well maybe except your phone buzzing in your bag. You had felt it buzz around six times before you reached into your bag to see what it was. 
Of course, as you suspected it might be, it was Wooyoung. Telling you that he was tired and wanted to go home. You huffed and thought about ignoring it when you saw San approaching you.
Quickly, and without much thought at all, you reached into Mingi’s back pocket. He looked a bit taken aback by the action. When you pulled out his phone, he looked down at you, intrigued. 
“Open it,” you told him. He did what you asked, unlocking the device and handing it back to you. You were quick to type in your number with your name. Simple. No emojis. No petnames. He could change it up later if he really wanted. 
By the time San had grabbed your shoulder, you had already given him his phone back. And that was it. You let San pull you away. Left him with nothing but your phone number. Not a kiss. Not a promise to meet up. Not a “call me” with a wink. Nothing.
You left him with the hope that, if he really wanted you, he would chase you. At least just a little bit.
✭✭✭✭
Mingi had really pulled through. He had texted you that next night. It was nothing special. He told you that he had had a good time. That he thought you were beautiful, and he’d love to see you again. You texted a bit through the week, too. Casually flirting with each other. Well, it was more of him flirting, and you responding calmly. A completely false persona, because every time he mentioned anything suggestive you were a total wreck. Kicking your feet, giggling with red ears.
Even when he texted you at work.
✭✭✭✭
Working the closing shift was always such a bore. Working until the late hours of the night, cleaning up messes that you had no part in making. It was the perfect storm for a less-than-perfect evening. 
Having a friend to join you in that suffering, though, made it just a little more bearable. You had to beg your manager to keep scheduling you with San in the evenings, but it certainly paid off. The restaurant was small, so it was just the two of you at night. Left to your own devices to clean up and close down. 
Being alone with him, though, unfortunately, gave him time to lecture you.
You’d just finished mopping the floors in the back kitchen when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You smiled a little when you saw who it was.
“Oh god,” you heard San grumble from where he was next to you, also mopping the floors.
You looked up at him, “what?”
“You know what,” he rolled his eyes, “are you actually talking to that douchebag?”
You shrugged, “it’s nothing serious. It’s all just fun.”
“Yeah, it’s all just fun until you actually start catching feelings for him, and then he dumps you like he has so many other girls.”
His words stung quite a bit, but mostly because you knew there was more than a small layer of truth to them. You knew this was far from the first time that Mingi had given a girl this much attention, but you’d be fully lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t like it. His sweet words and constant pet names were something you looked forward to every day.
Which is why you looked back down at your phone despite San’s obvious disapproval.
| mingi: you work at arriba’s right?
| you: uhh…yeah? who told that? and why?
| mingi: no one told me. ive just seen you there a lot 
| mingi: and you said you were working tonight so i wanted to know if i could pick you up after your shift
| mingi: my roommate’s gone tonight. thought maybe we could watch a movie or whatever. we’ll have the place to ourselves
Holy shit. He was inviting you over. You’d only been talking to him for a week, but you were starting to wonder if texting back and forth was going to be the extent of this…thing…the two of you had going on.
| you: riiiight… watch a movie…
| mingi: we can do whatever you want baby
| mingi: i don’t give a shit about the movie. i just wanna see your pretty face
You glanced over at San, who was still vigorously mopping the floors in the kitchen. There’s no way you could have Mingi pick you up without him noticing. He was your ride home anyway. You didn’t want to lie to him either though. Which meant you’d have to face the humiliation of telling him you were going over to “watch movies” with the guy he was desperately trying to get you to avoid.
But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to see Mingi. And you’d be lying even more if you said you just wanted to watch a movie with him. You were trying so hard, though, to make him keep playing this game. To see how far he was willing to go. How much he was willing to chase you. 
You couldn’t help it, though, that every time he texted you thought back to him dancing with you at the bar. His hands on your waist and your back. His lips brushed up against your ear. The strands of his dark hair between your fingers.
Noticing your silence, Mingi messaged you again:
| mingi: please baby? i really want to see you
| mingi: i’ll even pick up some takeout on my way to get you
| mingi: and i’ll drive you home tomorrow i promise
Tommorow? Well fuck. You really weren’t sure at first if he wanted you to spend the night, but that much was clear now. Sure, you probably wouldn’t get done at Arriba’s until midnight, but you thought maybe he’d just drive you home super late. But spending the night? Well, that just added a whole new level of intrigue.
| you: fine, i get off at 12. don’t be late
| mingi: wouldnt dream of it 
San was still mildly upset at you as the night went on. Well, upset wasn’t really the word, he was more worried you were gonna get your heart broken which you assured him wouldn’t happen because there were no feelings really involved here. Hell, you hadn’t even met up outside the bar yet.
But San’s poor attitude made it significantly harder to bring up this evening’s plan.
“Hey, um,” you started, not looking at him as you wiped down the table in front of you, “I, uh, don’t need a ride home tonight.” 
You glanced up to see that he’d stopped wiping down his table. 
“Ok,” he responded, resuming his cleaning.
You cringed, that response was almost worse than a lecture, and you told him that. 
He shrugged in response, “You’re an adult. I’m not going to tell you what to do. I can strongly advise you against certain things, but I’m not going to stop you,” he met your eyes, “If he makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, though, please call me, ok?”
You nodded.
“I won’t lecture you at all. I’ll just come get you.”
"Thank you, Sannie,"
✭✭✭✭
After counting down the cash and setting the alarm, you were both ready to go for the evening. You checked your phone for the time. 12:14. Below it, of course, was a message from Mingi:
| mingi: im here
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| mingi: and ive got food
You bid your friend farewell with a hug. When you stepped out into the parking lot, you saw Mingi leaning up against the hood of his car, food in hand. San’s eyes burned into the back of your head as you made your way over to him. Actually, you had more reason to believe he was staring at Mingi rather than at you.
He pushed himself off his car when he saw you coming. He held the food out to you, grinning. 
“What’d you get?” you asked, taking the bag from him.
He shrugged, “Just some chicken. I wasn’t sure what you liked. There’s fries in there too, and I’ve got a Coke in the car if you want it.”
“Thank you.” “Not a problem, baby,” he glanced over your shoulder, “Although…is your friend gonna be alright? He won’t stop staring.”
The butterflies you got seeing him call you “baby” over text were nothing compared to the pure giddiness that came from hearing it out loud. 
Of course, though, you had to remind yourself that you were far from the only girl whom he’d called “baby” with that voice you’d come to obsess over. This wasn’t about the use of a pet name, it was about how his voice really got you going. But just maybe you did enjoy him calling you “baby.”
“Don’t worry about him. He just doesn’t like you very much.”
“Oh, how refreshing,” Mingi rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t go unnoticed by you.
✭✭✭✭
After pulling his car into the parking lot and leading you up four flights of stairs (apparently, the elevator has been broken for months), you arrived at the door of Mingi’s apartment. He pulled the key from his pocket, unlocking the door and pushing it open. He turned around to usher you through the door.
“Here she is,” he mumbled.
You laughed a little, “You refer to your apartment as a ‘she.’”
He shrugged and laughed a little with you, not providing any explanation at all. 
You took a glance around the apartment, other than the bedrooms, you could see the whole thing from where you stood in the doorway. It was small, but it definitely was an adequate living situation for two college students on a budget. You walked through the kitchen, setting the leftover food on his counter since you had eaten most of it on the drive here. 
When Mingi disappeared into his bedroom, you froze just a bit. He’d seemed super casual over the phone. It was obvious that he definitely wanted to have sex with you but not at all like he’d try to force it out of you. You were kind of under the impression that the ball was in your court on that one. Maybe you had misread the situation.
Despite your confusion, you made a couple of steps toward his room only to see him emerge from the room moments later with some clothes in his.
“I figured you might want to change out of your work clothes,” he says, pushing the change of clothes into your arms. It was nothing special, a black tee and some gray basketball shorts. “If you want you can use the shower too. I cleaned it yesterday, too, so you don’t have to worry about anything.” He laughed, scratching the back of his head.
You were a little thrown off by his demeanor. Maybe the flirty Mingi you had previously been interacting with had an on-and-off switch, because, right now, he was just treating you like a friend who was crashing at his place for the evening. Not at all like the Mingi who you’d been talking to all week who was desperately trying to get into your pants.
“Thank you,” you smiled. “I actually wouldn’t mind taking a shower.”
✭✭✭✭
After you had finished your shower and, mostly, dried your hair, you and Mingi sat together on the couch. His arm rested behind your shoulders as he scrolled through different shows on the TV. 
Holy hell he smelt good. You couldn’t tell if it was just good hygiene or cologne or maybe even just fabric softener, but, nonetheless, you couldn’t help but breathe in and lean closer into his side. When he felt you lean closer, the arm around your shoulder pulled you in just a bit closer. You glanced up at his face which was still focused on the screen in front of you. Illuminated solely by the television screen and the faint light in the kitchen behind you. Your eyes traced his profile watching how his eyelashes fluttered and his tongue absentmindedly played with his lips. They looked soft. Really soft. 
Forcing yourself to stop looking at his lips, halting the dirty thoughts that began clouding your mind, you looked back up at his eyes which were focused on the screen ahead of you. Light from the TV reflected off the glassy surface of his eyes. He truly was beautiful. 
In all honesty, you felt yourself falling into dangerous territory here. Everything about this situation, him buying you dinner, letting you wear his clothes and use his shower, cuddling on his couch while his roommate was out of town. All of it screamed couple. Right? Why was he treating you like a girlfriend? You knew for a fact that wasn’t his angle here. Or at least you thought. God this was so frustrating. Why couldn’t you just relax and enjoy yourself in the arms of a beautiful man? This is why you never went home with guys. You would spend the entirety of your night micromanaging your thoughts and overanalyzing the situation. 
Subconsciously, in the midst of your chronic overthinking, you had pulled away from Mingi just a little, but it was enough for him to notice and look down at you.
“You good?” he asked. Setting the remote down on the couch next to him.
You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Maybe I should kiss him. You thought. That would make it clear what you wanted. Give him some indication. No that’s a terrible idea. And an impulsive one, too.
He found your speechlessness endearing. He laughed softly and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, brushing your jaw with his fingers and swiping his thumb softly across your cheek.
Well, fuck. You lost all restraint over yourself in that moment. 
Holding his hand against your face with your own, you leaned into him and kissed him. He hummed into the kiss, smirking slightly as his moved with your own. His lips were just as soft as you imagined. Like velvet when they passed over yours. And fuck he tasted good, you could tell he had definitely freshened up while you were in the shower. 
You sighed even further into the kiss when his hand moved down to your neck. Throwing one leg over his lap, you straddled his waist. He kissed you even harder now. Playfully biting your bottom lip. Pulling at it before kissing your chin. Then your jaw. Down your neck. All the way to your collarbone.
His hands dug into your hips much like they had when you had danced together the weekend prior. Your hands gripped his t-shirt. Failing to contain your anticipation.
“Baby,” he whispered, the depth of his voice shot straight to your core, “how far do you wanna take this?”
You whined, grateful he was defining boundaries but overwhelmed with the fact you had to tell him how you wanted it, “Please, Mingi.” You breathed out a heavy breath, “I need you.”
He smirked, his demeanor changed ever so slightly. Noted. You thought. He liked it when you begged. “Come on, baby. Tell me what you want.”
Burring your face in his neck and gripping his shirt tight, you rolled your hips. Grinding your core into him, “Mingi,” you moaned softly, “You’ll make me feel good, right?”
“Of course,” and apparently that was enough for him because, in the next moment, he pulled the shirt you were wearing over your head. Leaving your bare chest exposed to him.
He shifted you slightly. Motioning for you to lay back on the couch. You did, and he was quick to start kissing at your chest. His lips brushed over you collar bone. He kissed down your sternum and reached your belly button before coming back up to kiss your breasts.
You gripped his hair as he pulled a nipple into his mouth. Biting at it as he massaged the other one with his hand. He wasn’t wearing his rings right now, but you could only imagine how it would feel. The cold metal against your skin.
With his mouth occupied, you felt a hand slip under the waistband of your shorts and past your panties. You gasped, loudly, when he slid his finger through your folds. He hummed contently when you arched your back into him as he slid the finger into you. Adding another soon after you. 
His thumb played with your clit. Slowly. You could tell he wasn’t trying to make you cum right now. He was doing his do-diligence and prepping you. You had no doubt that he could make you cum if he wanted to or else he wouldn’t be so popular with women. You had heard stories about nights with Mingi, and everyone was always overwhelmingly positive about his skills in bed.
Your eyes rolled back slightly when he slipped a third finger into you. Mouth open in a silent moan that came out as nothing more than a little whine, you threw back your head. 
Shortly after though, he pulled his fingers out of you. He pulled off your shorts and panties together before ridding himself of his own pants and underwear too. Fuck, he was big. He smirked when he saw you looking, “You can take it. Right baby?”
You nodded breathlessly, “Mhm.”
When he hovered back over you, you gripped at his shirt. Trying to pull it over his head. He helped you out. Reaching behind his back to pull the tee over his head. You would have spent more time admiring his build but he was back to kissing you in an instant. His kisses made you so dizzy. You probably could have just kissed him for hours if you weren’t so undeniably horny. 
You were so focused on his lips that you didn’t even notice when he’d slipped on a condom. You whined when he slid his length between your folds. He held down your hips when you started to roll them. Begging for something to touch your clit that was almost throbbing for attention. 
“Don’t be so greedy, baby. I’ll take care of you.” 
And that he did. The moment he slid into you, you lost all control of yourself. Your nails dug into his back as he thrust into you. Painfully slow at first.
“Please,” you begged, “faster…” You wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him closer.
His thumb furiously rubbed at your clit as he thrust into you. Faster and deeper with every movement of his hips. You gripped at anything you could, his shoulders, his hair, his back. 
You were so undeniably lost in your own pleasure. Your mind was foggy. All you could think about was this beautiful man, furiously fucking you, grunting in your ear, and breathing on your neck. 
Even though you thought it was impossible, his thumb moved fasted on your clit. When he hit just the right angle you cried out, and he could feel you tighten around him. 
“Oh?” he asked between pants, “Right there?”
“Fuck! Yes, right there!” your head lolled to the side as you felt your orgasm approaching. Your legs shook as they wrapped around his waist, holding him close. With one final movement of his thumb, you came around him. Your walls fluttered as you reached that incredible high. “Oh god!” You cried out. 
“Shit,” he grunted, “I’m close, baby. Hold on.” With a couple more thrusts into your sensitive pussy, he came into the condom. 
He fell forward on top of you. His arms or either side of your head held him up so he wasn’t crushing you. Your chests both heaved. 
“Wow,” you said, breathlessly.
He laughed and kissed you softly, “Was it good?”
You nodded, “Great.”
When you looked into his eyes, his beautiful eyes, you momentarily forgot that you were not supposed to get your feelings wrapped up in this. Sirens rang in your head as he kissed you again, but, if he was gonna fuck you this good, you could ignore them for just a little longer.
✭✭✭✭
note ✭ ayyeeee it's done!! i honestly don't know how considering i have midtrems this week 😅 anyways, this has been in the drafts for about two months, and i'm glad i finally decided to start it!
if you enjoyed, please let me know! i absolutely LOVE hearing feedback whether it be through my inbox, comments or reblogs.
not sure when the next chapter will be released, but if you want to join the taglist you can lmk here or sign up here :)
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thenightwolf51 · 8 months
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"Danny was born a Wayne" AU except he's Bruce's grand uncle. The result of a one time drunken affair, shortly before Kenneth Wayne's death, to a young unmarried woman who gave the baby up for adoption.
(Whether the Fenton's, and therefore Amity, were just ahead of their times or the DC timeline is shifted a bit so that DP happens in its cannon era is up to you. Dealers choice, though now that i know about her i just love badass widowed prohibition leader Laura Elizabeth Wayne)
Danny grows up knowing hes adopted and loved by the Fentons but something (dealer's choice) happens and he loses his family and friends (maybe the whole town goes too?). In an attempt to avoid a Dan situation he flees into the Infinite Realm and doesn't stop.
He just wanders, time passes in its weird Realms way, not that Danny truly notices. A protector spirit thats lossed everything it protected. Its a wonder he doesn't fade and he actually might've if it wasn't for his human side.
But its a tug at his core that brings him from his near catatonic wandering. Gone before he can even understand it but enough to shake him back to himself. Enough to know that hes nowhere near ready to go anywhere familiar so he continues on, his wandering no less pointless but at least he's aware again.
What feels like a relatively short time later he gets another tug, and this time he manages to follow it.
He follows it invisibly through a natural portal that drops him somewhere in New Jersey and all the way to a fancy hospital room in the gloomiest city he's ever seen.
In there he sees his half brother Patrick Wayne, though he wont figure out their connection for a few more years, holding little Agatha. She's adorable in her little dress and pigtails and her sweet face causes that familiar tug he recognizes from what must have been six years ago given the girls age.
Then a nurse comes in and hands a little bundle to what must be the mother (whos name i cant find) and Danny takes one look at the little core tugger who brought him here and just melts. Even without knowing yet that this is his last remaining family, his instincts latch on and he vows to protect and care for the Waynes.
And he does.
He finds his forgetful brother's documents and keeps Aggy company when everyone else is busy and soothes baby Thomas so his poor sister-in-law can get some more sleep. He ices fevers and bruised knees and helps on later games of hide and seek.
He very rarely becomes visible and only to the children. His grief over the Fenton's convinces him its better to protect his new family from the shadows.
Danny explores every inch of the manor, including secret passages and an underground cave system. He claims a forgotten room in the back of the attic as his own, which over the years fill up with knickknacks, heirlooms, and pictures of the family. Even a gift or two from Agatha, who hadn't stopped believing in their shadowy guardian like her brother did when Danny felt they were too old to see him without drawing suspicion.
The manor becomes his haunt and he always knows where each family member is within it. And when any guests have some no good intentions.
And when baby Bruce is born tugging at his core and with the bluest little eyes, he welcomes the fussy little thing. And makes sure dear Martha never knows just how fussy baby Bruce really is, otherwise she might've never had a full nights sleep.
Danny blames himself for not being there when Thomas and Martha die, and promises to never leave Bruces side, practically becoming the boy's living shadow. Watching over him as he gets older, secretly aiding him in his training. Danny feels a bit of pride when Bruce takes some inspiration from the old stories Thomas told him of the shadowy Wayne family protector when creating his Batman identity, glad his nephew still remembers him even if he hasn't shown himself since the now young man was six.
Danny continues to protect and care for the family in a variety of ways over the years even as the family grows.
Lightening Alfred's workload, softening Dick's falls, calming Jason's temper both pre and post pit, hiding Tim's coffee when the boy hasn't slept in far too long, providing plenty of shadows and hiding nooks for Cass, helping Damian hide the litter of kittens he found.
And no one seems to know he's there, except maybe Cass and he's pretty sure Alfred has been know since he first started working for the family. No one knows, that is, until Duke Thomas moves in and lookes right at him watching invisibly from the sidelines.
(@omnicrafts @dcxdpdabbles @hdgnj @ailithnight @nelkcats @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 i dont know, the main point of all this is that Danny's been protecting the Wayne family for decades and no one, except maybe Alfred, knew until Duke moved in)
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eggcats · 17 days
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Radioapple fic, where after it's revealed that Pentious was redeemed, Heaven sends some angels (including some of Lucifer's own family) down to check out this Hazbin Hotel. (common fic theme)
And Lucifer is STRESSED. He hasn't seen any of his family in millennia, and they absolutely did not part on good terms. Especially because now he has to make as good of an impression as he can because he will NOT be the cause of Charlie's dreams failing.
Anyway, one of Lucifer’s estranged family arrives and they have absolutely NOTHING good to say about the hotel, it's people, or even hell itself. Insulting the decor, how it looks, being like "You got kicked out for free will and THIS is what they do with it? Ugh." and the like.
Lucifer is trying to keep himself together for Charlie's sake. (He's only had 3 breakdowns today, he's doing good!)
However, the last thing he expects is Alastor coming to his defense. Alastor looks at this shitty relative of Lucifer’s and is immediately like, "How DARE you? Antagonizing this angel is MY JOB, and I don't send him into hysterics, I send him into MUSICAL NUMBERS. Get out of my hotel immediately." But, obviously, he can't SAY that (for many reasons, the least of which is that Charlie needs them here for her redemption project).
So instead, he just picks at everything they say. "Hmmmmm, yes, but we at least chose to do this with this, free will you're insulting. What's your excuse for that eyesore youre wearing, hmmm?"
Alastor goes as far as to defend Lucifer’s choices in decor in the hotel, and Lucifer is completely confused because he and Alastor literally fought the day before about that SAME decor??
(The second the angel leaves Alastor turns to him and goes "They're right, you know, that is the ugliest interior design I've ever seen," and then DISAPPEARS before Lucifer can even respond. What the hell?!)
Alastor is not ignorant of toxic family dynamics, and while part of his initial issues with Lucifer stemmed from his belief in him being a deadbeat father, actually knowing him kind of changes his thoughts on this. It's a little telling that Charlie has been (apparently) attempting to contact her mother during her 7 year disappearance and has heard nothing, but the father who (she believed) thinks she's a failure shows up within an hour of her calling him ONCE. And then he does whatever he can to help her dreams, and the second she implies she wants him around more, he MOVES IN. It's kind of hard to continue thinking that LUCIFER is the toxic parent in the family dynamic, after all this.
(He still fights him, though, because it's fun to tell the most powerful being in hell his choice of interior design is ugly. If Alastor kind of doesn't go for the throat in all of Lucifer’s insecurities anymore, no one needs to acknowledge that.)
So, during the entire Heaven tour, Alastor is strongly in the "form a united front" boat. He can and WILL come out of the shadows for a sarcastic quip that simultaneously shuts them down AND makes Lucifer feel better.
(Alastor will NOT acknowledge the anger that goes through him at the idea of someone other than him picking at Lucifer, especially when they are CLEARLY trying to send him into a breakdown. How dare they. *cough* Anyway.)
So the whole ordeal winds up not as stressful as Lucifer was dreading, because somehow he has an antagonistic cannibal deer defending him the entire time. And Lucifer has no idea HOW that happened, but it does kind of make him feel better. (And Alastor's form of mocking him does, too, somehow.)
When they're alone, however, Alastor still picks at him so they can fight. (And Lucifer didn't notice until now how much FUN he has fighting with Alastor, and that Alastor insulting him makes him want to do better and prove him wrong, unlike his visiting family that makes him want to lock himself away for a decade.)
The tour ends, and Alastor and Lucifer go back to how they were before. (Sort of. Lucifer might be re-evaluating every interaction they've ever had and might send himself into a mild crisis.)
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ohmytyong · 8 months
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mark me in your heart
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PAIRING: drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader (female!reader)
GENRE: angst, smut, kinda friends with benefits au, bartender!renjun, best friend!renjun, action au, open-ended narrative
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, explicit description of drug use (don't do drugs kids), use of pet names, trust issues, explicit language, mentions of food, smoking, emotionally unavailable characters, both mark and y/n are kind of assholes, explicit sexual content, angry make-up sex, rough-ish sex, unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, choking, lip biting, nipple play, pussy slapping, spitting, oral (both m and f receiving), degradation, praise, spanking, crying, hair pulling, incredibly cringey dirty talking, aftercare (?), not proofread (let me know if i missed any!)
WC: 13k (12,975)
‣[PLAYLIST]: 505 by arctic monkeys, bad omens by 5 seconds of summer, slow down by chase atlantic, why do you only call me when you’re high? by arctic monkeys, a little death by the neighborhood, okay by chase atlantic
SUMMARY: when a sensitive and broken heart meets another one of the same nature, their instinctive reaction is to seek comfort in each other, and in order to heal themselves, they both need to be equally strong and willing to put all their broken pieces back together. but sometimes, some hearts aren’t strong enough to be saved; the only way to save them is if the stronger heart of the two is willing to take the risk and try for the both of them, whatever it takes.
A/N: it's finally here! it took me too long to finish this one but here it is! i know it might seem a bit fast paced or vague in certain parts, but remember this is all about the vibes and i deeply hope that you will enjoy it and give it some love because it definitely needs it <3
read on wattpad / ao3
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“Hey Renjun, pass me that glass” you said as you wiped the thick tall glass completely dry before you put it back on the shelf behind you. You were moving mechanically at this point, the exhaustion of the long night at the bar taking over your entire body. It was 5 in the morning and you had just barely managed to kick out some of the remaining drunk nobodies who were so wasted, that their toxic-infused brains couldn’t even give them the signals to move their own bodies.
Working at the bar wasn’t your dream job but it’s not as if you had a better choice. It was either a bartender or a stripper. Both of them sounded equally bad, so you decided to opt for the slightly better one. If you could even say it like that.
It wasn’t a particularly ideal job but it was enough to get you by. It earned you enough money to buy you food and pay the rent at the motel you were staying at, it got you as many free drinks as you needed to help your mind escape from all your worries and you also got to meet some relatively cool people, so that was somewhat good. The working hours weren’t such a big of an issue either, you couldn’t really sleep anyway. So you were fine with it.
Most nights, the bar usually closed at around 3 am. There wasn’t a set rule on this; it usually depended on how many customers there were and how much they were drinking. Your boss had suggested that you shouldn’t keep the bar open all night long, so you kinda decided that it was best to close a few hours after midnight. You weren’t complaining about this though; the sooner it closed, the more time you’d have to get high with your co-worker Renjun at the alleyway behind the bar.
Unfortunately, tonight luck wasn’t on your side, as a group of friends kept on drinking more and more as the hours passed by, which meant that you and Renjun had to keep the bar open until later. You weren’t opposed to this idea, it only meant that you would earn a little bit more money. It was Renjun who started complaining, so he decided to take action into his own hands and practically dragged the drunks out of the bar.
This is how you ended up cleaning up the place this late, rather this early in the morning, with your co-worker. The two of you were too tired to speak, so neither of you made any efforts to spark up a conversation. You both just attended to your respective tasks, waiting for a specific somebody to show up.
Luck surely wasn’t on your side tonight. He would usually show up at around 3:30 am, right after the bar closed, and he would have all the stuff ready, just at the exact moment you needed it. Why was he late today?
It didn’t take a genius to understand that Renjun was clearly affected by the lack of the stuff. He moved around the place nervously, tugging at his hair and stomping his foot rhythmically. He was in a desperate need of it, and you would honestly lie to yourself if you said you didn’t need it half as much as Renjun did.
You put the last clean glass on the shelf behind you and went over to the storage room to grab a broom, so that you could clean the floor a bit while Renjun was still wiping the bar counters. As soon as you closed the door of the storage room, the little bell that hung above the bar’s front door rang with a tinkle and soon after it followed the sound of the so familiar footsteps you were waiting for all night.
“Hey kids, Santa’s here,” his voice resonated in the empty room as he waved a small transparent plastic bag that looked white because of its content. Renjun threw the handkerchief he was holding to the other side of the counter and dramatically jumped over it to go and hug the male who just entered. All of that just at the sight of the clear plastic bag with the snowy content.
“Mark, what took you so long my guy, I’m literally a dead man walking! Give this beauty to me,” Renjun exclaimed and snatched the plastic bag straight out of Mark’s hand. Mark smirked at what Renjun said and immediately started grinning at the sight of the boy’s eagerness.
Renjun went to sit on the bar stool closer to him and placed the bag on top of the counter he had just wiped clean. With slender fingers, he opened the plastic bag and dredged some of the content on the counter. With nervousness in his movements, he set the bag aside and shuffled through his back pocket to find his ID card. He started scattering the white dust all over the counter before he gathered all of it in a straight line with the help of his ID card. When he was satisfied with the result, he put his ID card back into his pocket, lowered his head to the level that his nose touched the cold surface of the counter, took a deep breath and snorted the entire line of crack, the product going straight up into his nostrils.
Renjun blinked several times before he slowly lifted his head. He scrunched his nose and wiped it with the back of his hand, his drowsy eyes looking surprisingly bright considering his state. “Man, whoever hasn’t done crack, never, they haven’t known the beauty of life yet” he chuckled. Mark smirked at Renjun’s comment and you couldn’t help but shake your head amusingly, a small smile creeping up at your face.
Renjun took the plastic bag with the rest of the cocaine and put it in his pocket. “This baby’s for me, thank you,” he amused and turned his heel towards the storage room. “Don’t come look for me, I’ll be right here. If I take too long to come out, then you should be concerned,” he said and closed the storage room door behind him; a scene that was surprisingly quite familiar to you.
You then set the broom down and walked towards Mark. “Hey” you whispered and Mark greeted you back in a low husky voice. “What took you so long? We were expecting you to come earlier” you asked him.
Mark shrugged and leaned his elbow against the counter. “I came by at our usual meeting hour and saw that you guys were still open. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me so I decided to drop by later,” he said and you nodded in understanding.
“You do have more of those plastic bags on you, don’t you?” you asked him and he chuckled. “Of course I do, pretty. Let’s go outside and treat ourselves a bit, shall we?” he suggested and you nodded again, walking beside him towards the alleyway behind the bar.
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The sky was painted in a deep hue of light blue, the moon and the stars still visible in the early morning sky, the sun barely seen in the horizon. You huffed in a sharp breath and put both your hands inside the pockets of your jeans as a reaction to the crispy air of the early morning, as you leaned your back on the damp wall behind you. Mark followed right after you and did the same. He shuffled into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag full of crack, two crack pipes and a lighter. With almost automatic motions, he filled the pipes with crack and lit them up. He handed you one of them and kept one for himself.
You looked at the crack pipe as if it were an oasis in the middle of an infinite desert and you were so thirsty that your dried up mouth and throat were already relieved just by the sight of it. It only took you one second to react to the visual stimuli in front of you, quickly removing your right hand from your pocket and pulling the pipe straight from Mark’s hand. You brought the pipe to your lips, closed your eyes and took a long, slow drag. This was exactly what you needed.
You immediately felt your body relax and your mind clearing up. The moment you took the drag in, all your worries and problems completely vanished, even if it were only temporary. It was your brief sweet escape from the huge bitter world you were forced to live in.
A chilly breeze flew and you lifted your shoulders at the shivering sensation. Mark noticed immediately and he pulled you closer to him, removed one of the sleeves of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder, slinging his arm over it too.
"So," Mark spoke up, breaking the easing silence, "how was work today?"
You shrugged your shoulders. "Eh, like usual. Bunch of random people came in to drink their problems away and give us their money in exchange for adulterated alcohol. But Renjun had to drag some of them out of the bar, he literally grabbed them by their collar and feet and dragged them out of the store, you should have seen it. It was way too funny" you said and chuckled at the memory of the incident that happened a couple hours ago.
Mark giggled at your statement. "Damn," he dragged out the word, "too bad I missed that" he said and brought the crack pipe to his lips and squinted his eyes in pleasure and relief when he inhaled the poisonous content.
The next few minutes remained silent. There was only the sound of cars passing by being heard in the distance, it was probably people going to their early shifts at work. Normal types of work. Unlike the one you had, unlike the fate you brought upon yourself. That’s when the realization of your situation hit you like a truck. How could your family cut you off so easily when they found out that your dreams were different from what they were expecting of you? Were you just a tool for them? Another burden to take care of?
"You seem unhappy" Mark broke the silence. He was looking straight ahead in the distance, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, probably because he was a bit too high to notice anything.
"Because I am" you responded to his comment, turning your head to look at him, searching for a sense of home into his soulless eyes.
Mark smirked and turned his attention to his heels. "You know, I wanna help. Right? You know that" he said with a raspy voice due to his sleeplessness. "But I don't think that feeding you drugs is any help" he now turned his head to look you in the eyes.
You pressed your lips into a thin line before you spoke. "I ask for the drugs Mark, you're not feeding me anything. It's my only escape, what else am I supposed to do?"
"I love you, Y/n" Mark said.
You winced at his confession and turned your head to avoid his gaze and fixating yours on the wide sky ahead of you.
"You're high, Mark. Cut the crap" you said in a bitter tone.
"Do you think I'm lying? I mean it, Y/n. I fucking love you, for whatever reason I do. And I care about you, so come with me and let's get out of this shitty town. I’m running out of time too, they’ll soon find where I live" Mark defended himself.
You turned again to meet his eyes. "And go where, Mark? Where the fuck should we go, huh? I don't have anything else to do other than this shitty job. I only keep it because I need the money to survive and it's the only way to keep myself sane. The people I used to call family kicked me out of my house and this was the easiest solution I could come up with before I would collapse entirely and before it would become too difficult to get back on my own feet. So what else is left for me to do?" you were clearly getting angrier now, but not at Mark. At yourself.
Mark's eyes darkened in sadness. "That's what I'm saying! You deserve better than this! Look, we have enough money. I do deals, but I know this is a job I can't have forever. I told you, I’m on thin ice. If I’m seen doing deals again, I’ll go to jail. You know I play the guitar, right? I can join a band or something. I know a friend downtown, he might be of help" he said.
"And you," he continued, "you're a great bartender. You could make a career out of it" he said.
You shut your eyelids and shook your head in denial. "It won't work out. I'm a mess, you're a mess. We can't make this work. It's impossible" you said, turning your head away.
Mark sat up straight and put his hand below your chin to turn your attention towards him. "Look at me, Y/n. We can make it work. Believe me. Trust me. I can't leave you living like this. And I certainly can't live a life like this myself. You're the only person I can make a change with. I need you" he said.
You gulped and stared right into his eyes, unable to form a response. "So you just need me as a means to get you out of town and help you start your magical new life. No thanks, Mark, I'll pass" you said and shoved his hand away to release his grip on you.
Mark became frustrated and moved to stand right in front of you. The half of his jacket that was wrapped around your shoulders dropped and it hung behind his back.
"Okay, look Y/n, you're tired and you're high. We'll have this conversation again in the morning" Mark said defeated.
Your energy was running low despite the boost of energy you had just inhaled, so you let yourself loose. "Let's get you back to your room. You need some rest. Come on, I'll drop you off" Mark suggested and you gave in to him completely.
You took a step towards him and stumbled a bit. Mark, with his rapid reflexes, caught you firmly by the forearm and guided you to his car. The last thing you remembered was the faint sound of the car door closing, before you were engulfed into pretty sleep.
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The next day you woke up to the sound of light guitar strumming from across the dim lit motel room. It was already past noon; the curtains were still drawn closed but the midday sun rays found their way in between the curtain folds and peaked through the dirty motel room windows to light up the inside of the place.
Mark was sitting on a wooden chair across the bed with a concentrated look on his face. With his jaw clenched and his cheekbones popping, he strum his fingers through the guitar strings, playing random chords in an attempt to create a melody he liked.
You shuffled between the bedsheets and stretched your body all over the old bed. A squeaky sound echoed in the room due to your sudden movement, which caught Mark’s attention. His strumming stopped abruptly and his head jolted up in surprise, his eyes opened wide and his lips dropped to a pout.
“Did I wake you up? Shit, I’m sorry” he whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible.
You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision and looked at him. “No, you didn’t. I like what you’re playing. Sounds pretty” you reassured him. “Good morning, Mark”
His previously guilty expression was taken over by a wide grin appearing on his face, which turned into a bright smile. “Good morning, pretty,” he said.
You smiled at him and he went back on strumming random chords on his guitar. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of his messy hair and wrinkly t-shirt due to the, apparently, good quality sleep he just had. Your obsessive thoughts took over once again and didn’t let you enjoy this glimpse of happiness in the abyss of misery you were engulfed in. Your lips gradually dropped to a frown and your vision became blurry again.
Mark wasn’t perfect, but neither were you. He came into your life at the perfect moment, when you needed him the most. It was your first day at the bar, your first time as a bartender. Renjun had been training you all day, teaching you the basic parts of the job and giving you tips on how to handle weird or creepy customers. You were completely drained out that day, so your co-worker and soon-to-be best friend had promised you a pleasant surprise by the end of your shift.
Renjun’s definition of a “pleasant surprise” was slightly different from yours. That night, Mark walked into the empty bar with steps full of confidence. You didn’t know him back then, but from the very first second you saw his figure enter your life, there was only one word that kept circulating your mind; trouble.
Mark was trouble. With his sharp gaze and well-defined features, captivating aura and assertive moves, it was more than obvious that this guy would mean nothing but trouble to you. For some inexplicable reason, this was exactly why you were instantly attracted to him.
Mark came in carrying all the usual stuff Renjun wanted and gave them over to him without talking much. The two guys seemed to share a lot of past memories together, and you were right. Renjun had filled you in later that night on his relationship with Mark and how they helped each other stand back up on their own feet after they were forced to leave home. A story very familiar to you.
Mark came by the bar every single night. He didn’t give Renjun drugs every time, but he sure enjoyed both your and Renjun’s company. It’s not as if he had anywhere else to go.
That’s how you grew quite fond of him very easily. You found yourself looking forward to the end of your shift just so you could see him. He once offered you drugs but immediately took back his offer when he saw your shocked expression. You were at the lowest point in your life and doing drugs wouldn’t be the wisest habit to take up, even though this was, at the same time, the exact reason why you should do drugs. Eventually, reality hit you and you caved in, waiting for Mark to come at the end of your shift for one more reason other than just seeing him. He was reluctant at first. Mark didn’t want to drag you into this lifestyle, so you annoyed him and begged for it until he finally gave you the lethal medicine.
You and Mark were surprisingly very similar. Maybe that’s why you bonded so fast with each other. And maybe that’s exactly why you were equally bad for each other. You could see so much of yourself in him, just at a more put-together version. Sure, he was a drug dealer, which was certainly not a better job than yours, but he at least seemed to have a purpose in his life. Unlike you.
As time passed, you started spending more and more time with him. You would smoke crack, get high, talk endlessly until your mouths dried up, go back to your motel room, have sex with each other, and repeat. You found comfort in his presence and became attached to him without even noticing.
But you didn’t love him. No, you couldn’t call this love. Rather, you were depending on him, no matter how much you hated that. He acted as an emotional support beacon to you, you enjoyed his company and, if you were honest, you genuinely liked him. But it was hard for you to admit to any deeper feelings, so you repeatedly tried to convince yourself that you didn’t love him, so that it wouldn’t hurt as much if he ever decided to switch on you. You hoped it wouldn’t turn out like that.
You lightly shook your head to get rid of all these thoughts and got out of bed to wash up a bit. “I’m starving, I’ll go down to the diner to grab some breakfast, do you want anything?” you asked Mark as you were heading towards the humid bathroom.
“Let’s go eat there. Together” Mark suggested and you stopped at your steps.
He always avoided going out in places that were too public because he was at risk of being outed as a dealer. Especially now that he was caught selling drugs once and the guy who saw him threatened to report Mark to the police.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re on thin ice, you said that yourself” you raised the tone of your voice and walked towards him. 
Mark put down his guitar to focus on you. “You worry too much Y/n, like, what are the odds? We’re in the middle of nowhere, I doubt anyone knows this place apart from us and the customers of your bar. I think we’ll be fine,” he cleared his throat, “I mean, I’ll be fine. Relax, I wanna spend some time with you.”
You decided against protesting and trusted Mark’s certainty of his words. Besides, he was right. The diner was out of town, it wasn’t very popular among people who weren’t familiar with the bar. Most customers at the diner were either drunk people from the bar or passersby. So you simply just nodded and whispered a soft “okay” before you went inside the bathroom, the door emitting a creaking sound as you closed it shut behind you.
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The screeching sound of the fork scratching the surface of the porcelain plate turned your facial expression into a wince, which went completely unnoticed by Mark whose attention was entirely devoted to the pancakes in front of him.
The old diner was relatively empty despite it being lunch time. Other than you and Mark, there was only a group of friends and a guy sitting on a barstool. You were actually very satisfied with the quietness of the place, which was only disrupted by sounds of forks scraping plates and glasses thudding on the tables.
The diner was situated right down the same road your motel was at, so anytime your stomach growled in annoyance you would stop by and fulfill its needs. You were practically a regular customer now and probably the one who kept the place from going bankrupt. It was old, cheap and dirty; the perfect place for you.
Mark gulped down the last bite of his pancakes and thirstily drank the entire glass of water. He then set the glass down and leaned back on the booth, fixating his gaze on you.
You noticed his eager eyes on you and you set down your fork, mimicking his stance and staring right back at him, waiting for him to speak.
"That was a pretty good meal" Mark sighed and you smiled a bit. This wasn't what he wanted to say.
Since Mark seemed to be unwilling to speak his mind, you decided to take matters into your own hands instead.
"Why did you want to have lunch with me?" you asked him with your voice calm and your eyes searching for an answer in his.
Mark crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose before he answered your question. "’Cause I wanted to spend time with you. Actual time. You know, like normal people?" he said.
You rolled your eyes at his response and mimicked his body language once again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't buy it, Mark" you said.
Mark sat up straight and leaned closer to the table, resting his elbows on top of it. "Why are you always like this, Y/n? Whenever I tell you something, you never believe me! What's up with you?" Mark's frustration started building up in his attempt to defend himself.
"It's not that I don't believe you-"
"It's that you don't trust me" Mark interrupted you and you stood there with your mouth still open. You didn't know what to say.
Mark's gaze was piercing, his sharp eyes were darker than usual and his lips quivered at the blank stare you were giving him. "You don't trust me," he concluded.
The truth is that you weren't sure if you trusted him or not. You wanted to trust him and he had proved to you numerous times that he was someone who cared and didn't lie. Yet sometimes, you were afraid that if you trusted him too much, he would end up hurting you. So every time he said something you weren't expecting him to say, you immediately assumed that he was lying.
"Mark, listen to me," you started to say and Mark sat back against the booth, rolling his eyes. "I-I do trust you, it's just that-"
"What? You think I don't mean what I say? If I didn't meant what I fucking said then I wouldn't fucking say it! When I say I care about you, Y/n, I fucking mean it. When I say I fucking love y-"
"Don't get mad" you were the one that interrupted him now. Mark was clearly way too frustrated by you now, his voice was getting gradually louder, his eyes were full of fire and his nostrils were fuming.
At the sudden raise of Mark’s voice, the guy who was sitting at the barstool turned to look at your booth with a brief glance and then returned back to eating his food.
"Mark, just let it go, please" your voice came out almost like a whisper. You hated when Mark became angry at you and you hated it even more when he did it in public, even though it was practically just you and him in that diner.
Mark's jaw visibly relaxed and he lowered his eyes to his lap, nodding to himself. He lifted his head to look back at you with pleading eyes, much in contrast with his previous fiery gaze.
"Then why don't you come with me? Out of this fucking town? You deserve to live a better life than this. We deserve it. Look, I know I don't have an exact plan on how we'll do it, but I know that we can figure it out together. Please, Y/n" he said, taking your hand in his from across the table, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.
You lowered your eyes at the spot your hands were joined together. Did you really love Mark? No, actually, did you really trust him enough to depend your entire life on him?
You couldn't give him an answer at that moment. Not a yes, not a no. Not even I don't know. Forget that, it would complicate things even more.
Mark noticed that you weren't going to give him an answer to his question soon, so he let go of your hand and started putting on his jacket. He reached into the inside pocket and took out some cash. He slammed it on the table and got up from the booth ready to leave.
"I have to go to work now, alright? I've arranged some deals. I'll come back later at the bar tonight. If you ever decide what you want to do with me, you know where to find me" he said and without even turning to look at him, you heard the sound of his footsteps grow fainter as he walked out the diner.
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The bar was relatively full tonight. From behind the counter, you could spot only two empty tables. That was the fullest the bar has been in the last month. At the far back of the bar, you spotted Renjun already counting the tips he had earned and it was still midnight.
All the customers were busy chatting and enjoying their drinks. You found yourself craving some alcohol too, the need for an intoxicant substance was growing stronger and stronger, so you decided to mix just a little bit of something to treat yourself.
As you were filling in your glass, Renjun walked behind the counter and leaned close to your ear to speak, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to hear him through the loud chatting of the customers. “Man, I think we are in heaven, I lost count of my tips and I’m not even high yet” he said and you giggled at him.
He noticed the bottle of vodka you were holding and nudged you on your forearm. “Hey, pour me some of that too” he asked and your response was to grab a glass from the shelf behind the counter and fill it with the toxic liquid.
You had barely stopped filling in the glass when Renjun grabbed it and downed the liquid in an instant. He placed the glass on top of the counter with a thud and licked his lips, savoring the bitter taste. “What’s up with you and Mark?” Renjun asked you. You contemplated whether you should answer him or pretend you didn’t hear him just to buy you some time. A good couple of seconds passed so you just caved in and answered him.
“I don’t know. Go and ask him.” you said in a tone filled with nonchalance, sipping on your drink.
Renjun rested his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the place around him. “He said the exact same fucking thing when I asked him about you. You can’t be running in a vicious circle all the time. Just fuck it out, you’re both acting like little kids” he said and you sighed at his scolding tone.
Renjun wasn’t just your co-worker, he had also grown to become your best friend, a person you could talk to freely without fear of judgment because he always understood your intentions. Engulfed in your misery and loneliness, he was the person who helped you get back on your feet and have hope that things will somehow get slightly better. That sounds like something a friend would do.
You brought the glass to your lips to drink the last sip of vodka that was still inside, leaving it empty waiting to be filled with more of that toxic liquid. “You wanna know what, Renjun? Even though I hate the life I’ve made for myself, I enjoy having Mark in it. But I can’t do what he asks me to do. I can’t depend my entire life on him. I can count on him for some of it, yes, but starting anew with him? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m not the kind of person you want to start a life with. I will fuck everything up. And he shouldn’t count on me as much as he does. It’s for the better. For both of us.”
Renjun kept staring at you, waiting for your little rant to be over so that he could take his turn to speak. He gulped and looked at your burnt out figure. Your eyeballs were turning a bit crimson due to the line of cocaine you snorted earlier, even though you promised you’d wait until Mark came later, and the lack of sleep provided you with dark hues under your eyes and skin as pale as the moon. 
“Look, Y/n,” Renjun started and came a bit closer to you so that he wouldn’t have to strain his vocal chords in order to be heard, “I see your point. And I understand exactly what you mean because I felt the same way when I came here. But in my case, I had nobody to lean on. I became an addict, left home and the rest of the story is familiar to you. But you and Mark have each other and, trust me, your future is looking way brighter than mine.”
You looked into his eyes searching for honesty. Renjun has always been honest with you and you never doubted any of his words. He really cared about you. Mark too, as it seemed. And he was right. Living in a cheap motel, starving and working long hours to barely make ends meet, depending on drugs and more specifically on an exceptionally lovely drug dealer wasn’t the life you imagined to have. But fate had different plans for you and now you ended up here, whatever this here is supposed to be.
Mark didn’t seem to be ill-intentioned. From the very first moment you met him, he was protective and caring, he had always treated you nice. He spoke to you softly and touched you in a just as smooth way. But the life he was living wasn’t that much better than yours; in fact, you could say it was even worse. He depended on you as much as you depended on him.
You didn’t know what was the thing that made you keep a sort of distance from him. Emotional distance. Part of it might be because you weren’t available to be fully devoted to him, because of fear that one day he would leave you, just like everyone else did. Part of it might be because the two of you weren’t so different and two broken souls mending together doesn’t necessarily make a fully healed one.
“I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. I could do it later but I’m afraid I’ll be too high to think rationally. Or maybe this will give me more insight, I don’t know, I’ve never thought of it. Do you think clearer when you’re high?” you asked Renjun but he was preoccupied, looking at the screen of his phone which radiated such brightness his eyes squinted as a reflex.
Scanning his features more carefully, you realized that the reason for his scrunched expression wasn’t lying solely on the brightness of the screen. You took half a step closer to him and Renjun tilted his phone away from you, hiding the screen from your eyesight.
“What’s wrong, Renjun?” you asked with worry lacing the tone of your voice. Renjun shook his head and put his phone away in his back pocket. “Mark won’t be coming by later. Something came up, I’m afraid we’re in trouble too. Listen, can you handle the bar for a couple hours by yourself? Mark needs some help” Renjun said, searching for his jacket underneath the counter.
Your eyes widened at Renjun’s words and you felt your heartbeat racing and your fingertips trembling. “Is Mark okay? Tell me, is he okay?” your rising voice quivered, betraying the nervousness you felt.
Renjun squeezed your shoulder and pressed his lips together in an attempt of a reassuring smile. “Yes, he is alright. He’s fine. He just needs some help with the cops. If you see anyone suspicious showing up, flash the stashes down the toilet, we don’t want them finding anything. I’ll be back soon.” 
With swift movements, Renjun turned his heel to walk out the bar in a hurry, muttering something under his breath that, due to your shocked and nervous state, you failed to hear, “How am I gonna save your ass this time, Mark?”
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As soon as you heard the bell on top of the bar’s front door tinkle, you knew that Renjun was already outside and you were left alone in the bar. You were left standing frozen behind the counter, staring into nothingness. Your vision became blurry due to the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes, your hands curled into fists and your nails were digging deep into your palms, cold sweat forming at the sides of your forehead.
You were terrified. Mark was already caught selling drugs very recently, so your mind went to the worst case scenario which made you extremely terrified; that Mark was caught selling drugs by the police. 
You dreaded this moment at the exact same time your eyes met Mark’s sharp ones. You knew that, once you became thick as thieves with a drug dealer, you would be in for a lot of trouble. 
But you also knew how careful Mark was and this gave you hope that, whatever the case is right now, he would find a way to get himself out of there. Mark was a smart guy. You wanted to trust him, you wanted to believe that he would be smart enough not to get himself in trouble.
Yet something didn’t add up. Mark has been doing these types of deals for a long time now, he knew all the tricks of the job and he knew very well how to protect himself. So it sounded almost impossible that he would do something so reckless and irresponsible to get him caught. 
There was only one possible and logical answer to all of your questions. That somebody ratted him out.
Your train of thought was disrupted by the husky voice of a man. “Excuse me, miss, would you mind pouring me a drink?”
Your head snapped at the sudden sound of a voice other than the one inside your head. Your eyes met with a man sitting on a barstool at the other side of the counter, looking at you with wary eyes. Your gaze was roaming all over his figure when your eyes halted for a second as soon as they spotted something shiny at the right side of the man’s chest; a badge.
You cleared your throat to cover up the anxiety and fear that started to appear in your voice. “Officer! What can I get you?” you greeted him with bright eyes and a cheerful voice that masked your intense heartbeat and the trembling state of your hands behind the counter.
“Actually, I don’t want a drink,” he started and moved his hand inside his jacket to pull out a file with pictures and papers, “but I do want you to help me with something. Have you ever seen this guy?” he asked you, placing the file on the counter and turning it to your side.
You gulped at the sight in the front of you and your eyes quivered from side to side. A mugshot of the face you grew to almost love was staring back at you. Sharp gaze and popping cheekbones, defined jawline and dark eyes were presented in front of you and you knew more than well enough who the person in the picture was.
Your heart sank at the sight of Mark’s mugshot and you knew what you had to do. You drew in your eyebrows together and lifted the picture with your hand in order to bring it closer to your eyes and examine it better. “I don’t think I recognize this man, officer” you said.
You set the picture down on top of the counter and looked at the police officer, not trying to avoid eye contact. You wanted to seem as less guilty as possible.
The police officer took the picture and put it back inside the file. “Really? That’s a shame. But I’ve been informed that you do know this guy because you were seen with him this morning.”
You froze immediately. Your brain tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, you tried to digest and connect everything the cop just said in order to form your answer.
“Are you sure about this, officer? A lot of other girls look like me, maybe it was a mistake?” you asked with a rising intonation in an attempt to defend yourself by adding another lie to your previous one.
You tried to remember where you could be possibly seen with Mark, especially during the day. You always met with him at night and you avoided seeing each other in the morning. There was no way anyone saw you with Mark.
The moment you had this thought, the answer to your question suddenly popped up in your head as if a lit up light bulb. That morning, you and Mark had breakfast down at the diner. And you specifically remember that suspicious guy who kept staring at the two of you.
That’s when you knew you had to do something drastic to get you out of this situation, and you had to do it relatively fast.
The police officer didn’t seem to buy the lie you had just uttered and continued to pressure you more. “Is this where you keep all the drinks? Can I take a look inside your storage room?”
The rhythm of your heartbeat kept increasing more and more by each word the police officer said and you were running out of lies and excuses.
“Sure, it’s this way officer” you said with a nonchalant tone, gesturing towards the door behind the counter. 
The cop stood up and turned his heel to walk behind the counter and towards the storage room door. Your trembling hands had barely managed to hide the stashes you kept behind the cash register under your oversized shirt, and you followed the cop inside the storage room with uncertain steps.
The police officer could not find the rest of the stashes. It shouldn’t happen, and you had to act smart in order to prevent it. “Can I help you with something, officer? We can’t stay in here for too long, my co-worker finished early and we’re not allowed to leave the bar without having anyone to tend to the customers” you said in an attempt to speed up the process and get rid of him before he could find anything that could put you in jail.
“You can go back to your work, miss. This is my job here, you can go and do yours” the cop said as he had already taken a bottle of vodka in his hand to examine it for anything suspicious.
“Okay, I just wanted to help. Call me if you need anything,” your answer was convincing enough for him, but it wasn’t good enough for you to buy you more time.
You left the storage room and stood right outside the door, leaving it so open as to let you peek through it so that you were able to see what the police officer was doing.
With your still trembling fingers, you took out your phone from your pocket and dialed Renjun’s number with quick movements. Without taking your eyes away from the cop, you kept tapping your foot waiting for Renjun to pick up his phone.
The constant beeping sound in your ear signaled that Renjun wasn’t going to respond soon, so you put your phone back in your pocket and tried to think of what to do.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you muttered under your breath, running your fingers through your hair. Your eyes were wavering from the police officer to the customers in the bar and then back to the police officer. You had to do something to get everyone out of there.
Your eyes followed the cop’s figure and certainly didn’t like what you were seeing. The cop squatted down so that he could reach the boxes under the shelves and stretched his arm to pull out one of them.
“No, no, no, fuck” you whispered. Those are the boxes in which you hid the drugs.
You turned your head to look at the inside of the bar. It was fully packed. There was not any chair or barstool that was empty and, just at that moment, the door opened to reveal a group of friends who wanted to get drunk and have fun just like the rest of the people inside the bar.
The only person who wasn’t having any fun right now was you. And obviously Mark and Renjun as well, who you had no idea about their whereabouts or their well-being. On any random night, all these people in the bar would equal a pretty satisfactory amount of tips that would make your life slightly easier to get by. However, you could definitely not say that for this particular night, when your main priority was your and your friends’ safety.
Shifting your gaze from the customers to the police officer and back to your phone for any missed calls or unread messages from either Renjun or Mark, you were completely on your own on this one. Cold sweat engulfed your entire body as the seconds passed and the cop was one step closer to finding the thing that could turn your entire life upside down.
You swallowed thickly and looked at your phone one last time. No sign of anybody.
“Okay, I got this” you muttered to yourself and walked behind the counter where you usually stood. A middle-aged woman was sitting on one of the barstools, smoking and sipping lightly from the cocktail you mixed for her earlier. You picked up the first bottle of alcohol you saw on the counter - you didn’t have the time to care what it was - and walked towards her.
“Excuse me, miss, would you like a refill?” you asked politely to gain her attention. Before she even opened her mouth to speak, your actions were faster than her words. You quickly snatched the cigarette from her hand and put it out on the counter, immediately pouring some alcohol right on that spot.
Soon enough, flames started building up and the counter caught on fire. The smell of smoke became suffocating and it was hard to breathe in such a small space full of people. Your plan worked.
Muttering a string of “sorrys” to the woman, you turned around to pull the fire alarm. Every customer turned their heads to the direction of the piercing sound full of worry. “Everyone must get out, the building is on fire!” you yelled as loudly as you could, motioning everyone out the door.
Very quickly, you managed to evacuate the building by leading all the panicked customers outside the bat through the front door. In the midst of all this chaos, you noticed with the corner of your eye the police officer you rushed out of the storage room without looking any scared at all. 
You ushered the last customers outside as the fire grew bigger, eventually leaving you and the cop as the only ones inside the flaming place. As he passed by you to get out the bar, he leaned closer to your face and whispered. "That was smart, young lady," he said and walked outside towards his car.
So he knew, you thought. He knew all along about the drug deals happening in this place and mainly the drug possession. He almost tricked you into thinking you tricked him. How amateurish of you.
You walked out the bar and shut the door behind you, watching the police officer drive away. A sigh of temporary relief escaped your lips and you pulled out your phone to dial a phone number you weren't particularly happy to call. Waiting for a few seconds, you heard the dreadful voice on the other line. "Hey boss, um, is it easy for you to come down to the bar? We kinda have a small problem" you said with a rapidly beating heart.
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The time was already 3:16. You were pacing around your motel room, patiently waiting for any news about Mark. You had already called and texted him multiple times, but all of your efforts to reach him went in vain.
A few minutes after you called your boss, she arrived at the bar, totally shocked and deeply saddened upon seeing her not-so-small business all up in flames. You explained to her what happened, shaping the story so as not to sound guilty, and luckily she didn't blame you for anything.
After the firefighters arrived, your boss encouraged you to go home, saying that you already went through a lot for the night, so you needed to get some rest.
So now you were back to your motel room, unable to get some rest because you were still scared about yourself and your previous interaction with that police officer. But most importantly, you were anxious about Mark.
You were terrified for him. And your fear only increased because you couldn’t do anything to help him or save him. You realized that you depended on him twice as much as he depended on you and that made you feel useless in situations like this. Knowing that Renjun was - probably - with him eased your nerves a bit, but, at the same time, knowing that you didn’t do anything to help him made you feel selfish and hopeless.
Everything you did tonight was to save no one else but yourself. The entire night, you kept worrying about yourself and how you could avoid going to jail when during those very same moments in time you had no idea how Mark was or what he was going through.
Mark wasn’t the helpless one in this situation; it was you.
As you picked up your phone to call Renjun again, a loud thumping noise on the door startled you. Your body jolted up upon hearing the sudden sound and you walked nervously towards the door to look outside through the peephole.
Your eyes widened in shock and surprise at the sight of the face that was constantly on your mind. You didn’t waste any time opening the door and pulling the boy you were aching to see all night long inside the motel room, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.
You rested your head in the crook of Mark’s neck and he reacted to your touch in an instant, stretching his arms to the small of your back to hug you as tightly as he physically could.
Tears fell from the corners of your eyes and you pulled back just as much as you needed in order to look into Mark’s exhausted eyes without breaking the embrace. “You can’t imagine how scared I was,” you whispered.
Mark stared deeply into your watery eyes. He moved his hands to cup both of your cheeks and nodded his head when he processed what you just said. “I know, I was terrified too. Renjun came to help me but we kinda fucked it up" he said with a stinging tone in his voice. 
“What happened?” you asked and Mark let go of you and walked towards the bed in the middle of the room, sitting on the edge of it. You copied his movements and sat down right next to him, turning your head to his side as you waited for him to fill you in on what you had missed.
“That bastard ratted me out. That asshole from the diner. I had a deal with some teenagers and he called the cops on me. I don’t even know how he tracked me down.” Mark confessed looking straight, his eyes full of void, focusing on nothing in particular. 
“Anyway, they took me to the police station and started questioning me about all this bullshit. There was no way I could excuse myself, they literally busted me, they saw me doing the deals. I texted Renjun and, I don’t know what he said to them but it didn't go well," he stopped to take a deep breath despite the desert that formed inside his mouth and the waterfalls that were forming in the corners of his eyes, "so we basically ran away and sooner or later the police will find me. I had nowhere else to go and I knew that your place would be relatively safe." Mark finished reciting you the events of the last few hours, tears staining his cheeks like the raindrops of a drizzle.
The dried tears that stained your cheeks became wet again when the new set of them fell down your face. You were staring at Mark through your teary gaze, trying to find any emotion in his void expression. He had never looked so soulless and it terrified you even more.
But the truth is that Mark himself was trying to mask his fear and anxiety by not showing them. The tears that traveled from his bambi eyes down to his popping cheekbones felt empty and the sight of him in such a state brought a stinging pain to your heart.
“So w-what does that mean?” your voice trembled at each word you uttered as you faced Mark with nothing but fear and another emotion that, at that moment, resembled love.
Mark made an attempt to wipe most of the tears off his face with the palms of his hands so that he could face you with clear vision. “It means I might go to jail. I will go to jail, unless I get out of here” he said. “Fuck, those bastards gave me an excuse to leave this fucking place” Mark scoffed as he sat up from the bed and started roaming around the narrow room, hands resting on his waist.
Your eyes trailed on every single one of his moves. You blinked several times to prevent any more tears from falling and cleared your throat to avoid your hoarse trembling voice. “So you’re really leaving” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Mark.
Mark turned around to look at you. “Yeah, I am. First thing in the morning. I don’t have many things to pack so it won’t take me long. And I can help you pack your things too, it will be quicker if-”
“Who said I’m coming with you?” you interrupted Mark and you immediately regretted doing so once you met his fuming gaze, which was now completely taken over by anger but was previously filled with nothing but emptiness.
“Y/n, we agreed to this. You’re coming with me and that’s it.” Mark growled as he took a step closer to you.
You stood up and started walking nervously around the place you called home, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to ease your nerves. “We never agreed to anything. I told you I can’t-”
“Bullshit, that’s what you told me. Everything you said is bullshit. I want nothing but the best for you, we’ve been meaning to do this for such a long time and now that we have every reason to leave, you don’t want to! What’s wrong with you Y/n?” Mark clapped back at you.
A tear dropped down to your feet as you looked at Mark’s reddening face. Your lips trembled in your attempt to voice out your feelings, unfamiliar to your vulnerable state. “I’m scared, Mark,” you paused to sniff your nose, “I’m so fucking scared. For you, for me, for everything.”
Mark’s features softened at your sudden confession. He remained silent, gesturing to you to move on.
It was hard and unusual for you to open up to him like this. You hated the fact that he made you weak, that he had such a strong effect on you to make you eventually do as he says. But there was always this evil little voice in your head that told you not to trust him because, in the end, he would act just like everyone else and leave you.
“Do you know how scared I was tonight? I almost risked my fucking life for you! I had no idea where you were, I didn’t know what happened or why, and you know why? Because you never tell me anything! You only care about yourself,” all your fears and anxieties exploded and the outburst was so big you didn’t know how to stop. And you couldn’t stop even when you took a glimpse of Mark’s furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips, which you couldn’t tell if they were the result of sadness or anger.
You didn’t want to hurt him. But at this state, you couldn’t remain silent anymore. It wasn’t Mark’s fault, but you had reached a point where you couldn’t bottle up anything you felt anymore, so he just had to take everything you said.
You took a deep breath before you licked your dry lips to speak again in a calmer but still bitter tone. “If only you would disappear from my life I would-”
You never completed your sentence because Mark dashed towards you and grabbed you by the neck, squeezing the sides just so, so you could breathe a little bit, his face only a couple inches away from yours. “Shut the fuck up” Mark spat out with a growl which immediately kept you quiet.
His blackened eyes were piercing right through you, his fully black pupils bore into your wavering ones. You stood frozen there, completely locked in your place under Mark’s forceful hold on you, a position which made your lower stomach twitch.
Neither of you spoke for a few seconds. Mark’s face was painted in crimson, his eyebrows fully drawn in together and his nostrils flaring out, as he tried to keep his breathing steady. His angry state scared you even more; not because he would hurt you, but because he could hurt himself. Behind the mask of the angry man he presented himself as, you were the only one who could see the sad little boy who wanted nothing else from you but to love and trust him.
With Mark’s hand still pressing on your neck, your voice barely came out when you tried to speak. “Mark please, say someth-”
Mark interrupted you once again by smashing his lips on yours with the same force he held you under him and the same desperation he hid behind his bloody gaze. You didn’t waste a second, responding in an instant to him, moving your lips to the pace and rhythm he settled. You slightly parted your lips to allow him access to deepen it even more, as he slid his tongue in your mouth to dance with yours.
His presence and strong grip was too much to endure, so you stretched your arms to grab his hair. Mark sensed your need for more support, so he lessened the pressure on your neck and moved his free arm to the small of your back.
The previously quiet room was filled with the lewd sounds of your lips and tongues and the soft grunts and whimpers that left your lips in between each violent connection between them. You hadn’t realized how much you needed Mark, how much you had missed his touch and his burning essence on you until this very moment. Your body reacted to him almost immediately, as you felt your blood flow from your heart down to your aching core.
The heated argument from earlier was now completely forgotten and transformed into a passionate battlefield between two broken souls. Mark's crack infused breath, the bitter taste of alcohol on his dry lips and the lust overtaking his brain and controlling his actions electrified your entire body. There was not a single part of you that didn't want Mark, that didn't desire him and you couldn't help but want more of him.
Your brain, too foggy from the bold emotions and the alcohol you had consumed earlier, couldn't work properly, so your primal instincts took over you entirely. You kept kissing Mark while biting on his lower lip, which resulted in low whines coming out of him, his hardening length growing more inside the pressure of his pants.
You could sense him struggling to keep his cool and you were trying to give yourself some friction too by rubbing your thighs together. You reached your hand down to Mark's pants, cupping his dick outside the thick fabric of his jeans, the teasing action causing him to roll back his eyes.
Mark stopped kissing you abruptly and without wasting any time, he threw you on the bed with all his strength, watching you with hungry eyes. You plopped down on the bed, the sheets creasing at the sudden force and you looked at him with a lustfull gaze that invited him in.
"Wanna fuck you so dumb right now" Mark growled lowly as he took off his shirt from the back of his neck in a swift motion and continued to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving your pleading ones.
You followed along, removing your own shirt and shorts, lying in bed only in your underwear. Mark had now discarded himself completely off of all his clothes except from his boxers, which had an undeniably visible precum stain on them.
Mark's body hovered above yours, connecting his lips with yours for a brief moment before he pulled back to attack your neck, biting and nipping on the spot right under your ear, which earned a loud gasp from you.
His lips kept on abusing your neck area, as you locked your fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling at it with every bite on your neck and chest. The hot sensation of his lips, tongue and wet saliva all over your body made you whimper under him, a sound that made his cock twitch inside his underwear.
Mark traveled lower down to your chest. He slipped his hand behind your back to undo your bra, removing the bra straps off your shoulders eagerly and tossing the piece of clothing somewhere in the dirty motel room. He was quick to attack your hard nipples, dropping his head to suck on one of them, and reaching the other one with his hand, twisting and rubbing it between his fingers.
Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room, the sound and smell of your bodily fluids polluted the small space, everything about the inside of the place being purely filthy.
The heat in your body kept rising and you could feel the stickiness in your panties. You wanted Mark, all of him. You wanted him to treat you however he wanted to, you wanted to please him by giving him all of you and you wanted to feel desired by him.
"Please Mark," you breathed in a soft moan, "please fuck me" your face reddened in your pathetic confession, but it didn't seem to stop Mark from ripping your panties apart, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to the dirty cold air of the room.
Your drowsy eyes and rapid breathing fueled Mark and all his inner needs, as he lifted his body off yours and parted your legs with his hands, pushing your thighs apart. You were breathing heavily in anticipation of his next move, which was a sharp slap to your pussy that sent a strong bolt of pleasure through your whole body. You moaned in pleasure and surprise and Mark repeated his action at the sound of your whiny moans.
"You're a pathetic little slut after all, aren't you?" Mark lowered his head and spat on your pussy, which had you clenching around nothing. "Look at you, begging to be fucked" he brushed one finger up and down your clit, just enough to tease you and elicit a sharp intake of breath from you. "You really pissed me off, you know?" he muttered.
"Please Mark, I want you. I need you so bad, please fuck me" you whined with a high-pitched voice, the one you knew that Mark could never resist, as you pouted your lips at him.
Mark rested his hands on your knees, holding your legs as far apart as possible, so as to have full access to your glistening cunt. His dark eyes were filled with nothing but hunger and lust, unable to control himself any longer from how bad he wanted to taste you. He lowered his head even further, brushing his lips over your clit.
"As you wish, princess" he mumbled to your wet core before he attacked your swollen bud, licking and sucking on your clit with absolutely no remorse.
A loud moan escaped from your lips at the abrupt touch of Mark's wet tongue on your pussy, your hands intertwining in his hair, grabbing and pulling at every licking stripe Mark left on you.
He kept on licking and sucking on your clit, mumbling sweet nothings and small praises, which reminded you more of the Mark you knew rather than the cold and hungry man that was presented in front of you a few minutes ago.
The lewd sounds of Mark's lips and tongue on your pussy mixed with your whiny moans turned him on to the fullest, as he pulled one of his hands away from your knee and dropped it down to slowly pump his dick underneath his underwear.
The burning desire rising up in his body was becoming too much for him, so he pulled away from your clit with one last sucking pop and took off his underwear, setting free his painfully hard length.
Mark positioned himself between your legs and with a swift motion, he turned you over to your stomach, pulling you by your hips so that your ass was higher up towards him.
"Need to fuck you so bad" Mark growled as he smacked your ass cheek with a sharp slap, your pussy clenching at the burning sensation.
"Please, Mark" you whined in the pillow, a tear rolling down your face and landing on the sheets as a response to the overstimulation taking over your body.
The way you kept whining his name and the juices almost dripping down your thighs had Mark gritting his teeth. He gave himself a few more light strokes as he positioned his dick right at your entrance. Without giving you any warning, he dived into your pussy with a sharp stroke.
You shut your eyes in pleasure and gripped the sheets tightly until your knuckles went white as Mark pounded into with sharp rhythmic strokes, each one pushing your head further into the pillow.
Your moans were coming out as crying mumbles as your face was buried deep in the sheets. Mark kept his pace and force, his head lolling back at the intensity of the moment. He kept his one hand on your hip in order to keep you steady while, with the other one, he reached down to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging at it and pulling it roughly, an action that triggered your hot tears to spill from your eyes at the pure sense of pleasure.
Mark's breathing was heavy and sharp at the sound of your soft growns and the sight of your ass jiggling at each stroke he left. "Is this what you wanted, pretty? Me fucking you so good you end up a crying fucking mess?" Mark provoked you in a voice as deep as the ocean, his groans low and hot like the pits of hell.
The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed inside the four walls of your motel room. Mark's hips connected with your ass in an intense force and a static speed, as he hit the spot that always brought you closer to the edge.
"I-I'm close, Mark, p-please" you whined as he gradually took you closer to your limits, your lower stomach twitching in pleasure and your jaw going slack as you felt your climax rising more and more.
"Let this pretty pussy cum on my dick, come on baby" Mark growled and with that, you let out a high-pitched groan into the pillow as your pussy clenched around Mark's dick, the forceful grip of your hands on the sheets was slowly loosened.
You felt Mark's strokes become sloppier as you coated his length with your warm fluids. He quickly pulled out and turned you over so your back was touching the soft mattress. He moved his body closer to you, pumping his dick slowly as he brought the tip to your lips, brushing softly against them as an invitation to take in his dripping cock.
"Open up for me, pretty" his fully blackened eyes bore into your teary ones. You slowly opened your mouth and Mark quickly pushed his cock into it, moving his hips as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on his veiny length.
"That's right, baby. Such a good girl" Mark whimpered as he slowly released into your mouth, his hot cum dripping down your throat. You swallowed all of it completely before he pulled out and laid down on the bed next to you, both of your heavy panting echoing in the now quiet room.
Mark took a few seconds to ease his breathing and turned to the nightstand above his head to search for the pack of cigarettes you kept hidden in the small drawer. He took one cigarette out of the box and brought it to his lips. With the lighter you kept inside that very same drawer, he lit it up, smoke immediately coming out of it. The room now smelled like a mix of sex and smoke, and you winced at the odd yet satisfying combination. Mark took a long drag out of the cigarette and then puffed the smoke into the filthy air.
As soon as you caught your breath, you turned your body towards Mark's, looping your arm around his waist and resting your head on his chest. Mark responded to your intimate touch, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders, stroking your hair lightly. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and then brought the cigarette again to his lips.
After the long and terrifying day you had, you finally felt at ease. Your heart was beating normally, your breathing was steady and your mind was blank. All you could do was savor this moment with Mark, wrapped around his arms and listening to his beating heart, a sound that promised you that everything would be alright.
"Please don't leave me, Mark. I wouldn't know what to do without you" you whispered to him as you slowly drifted away to deep sleep. Mark didn't say anything back. He kissed your forehead again instead and inhaled deeply, exhaling in a long sigh, as his eyes were fixed outside the window, looking over at the bright city lights.
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Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of chirping birds outside your window. From the way the room was illuminated and from the shadows that formed behind every object, you could tell that it was only a few minutes after sunrise, and the bright orange sun confirmed your speculation.
With your eyes still half-open, you stretched your arms above your head and groaned, a soft yawn leaving your pouty lips. You then shifted between the sheets, turning your body to the other side of the bed, moving your arms around in search of the drug dealer’s toned body, the one that hugged you tight to sleep.
“Good morning, Markie” you mumbled, still half asleep. You rested your head on the pillow, still patting the mattress when you couldn’t sense the male beside you. Your eyes widened in an instant and your body quickly adjusted to the awake state. You were focused on the other side of the bed, where the boy you spent the previous night with would be lying sound asleep. Instead, you were met with nothing but tangled bedsheets.
“Mark?” you called again, in hopes that maybe he was in the bathroom and he couldn’t hear you. No response.
You yanked the sheets off you and rushed to the bathroom, opening the squeaky door with more force than you intended. “Mark?” you called, but the calling was in vain.
Maybe he went down to the diner to get us breakfast, you thought. It was still very early in the morning, but the diner never closed during the night, so there might be some leftovers or, if you were lucky, some fresh food at this hour.
So you decided to wait for him, thinking that his whereabouts were probably the old diner. Since you were now fully awake, you decided to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes. It will only be a few minutes, Mark will probably be back by the time I’m finished, you thought.
So you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water fall down your tense shoulders in order to ease your nerves and help your body physically relax. Your mind brought up the memories of the previous night you spent with Mark. You thought about the cop that came to the bar, you thought about the fact that Mark was in serious danger, you thought about your argument with him and how you made up afterwards by having steamy sex, just like every other time.
You didn’t know how to label your relationship with Mark, or whatever you had with him. He was more than a friend but less than a lover. He protected you, cared for you, helped you with any troubles you had and was always there for you, whatever it took for him. And what did you do for him in return? Nothing.
You did absolutely nothing, at least nothing that could compare to what he did for you. And you hated yourself for not being able to pull him out of his misery, even for the slightest bit, when he could even go as far as to move mountains just to see you crack a smile.
You didn’t deserve him; yet you were too selfish to let him go. He was a soul that wanted to fly and be free, but his wings were weighed down by your annoying fears and anxieties for the unknown.
The water dripping down your body suddenly turned cold and you immediately turned off the faucet and ran out of the shower, wiping your body dry with a towel. There was still no sight of Mark, so you quickly put on some fresh clothes and searched throughout the room in order to find your phone and call him.
Your eyes scanned every corner of the room where you could have possibly left your phone, when your gaze dropped to the wooden chair across the bed, the one where Mark usually sat when he played the guitar, only to find a folded piece of paper.
You stepped closer to the chair, picking up the piece of paper and turning it around. With shaky hands, you slowly unfolded it and a shiny bright red guitar pick fell on the floor. You picked it up, bringing it closer to your eye only to recognize it as one of Mark’s favorite ones.
You held the pick between your fingers and sat down at the wooden chair, looking at the wrinkly piece of paper. Written with a dark pencil, you recognized the sloppy handwriting and the small neat letters as none other than Mark’s and you couldn't help but feel your eyes sting in threatening tears as you slowly read and processed each heartfelt word he wrote:
Dear Y/n,
You’re probably reading this because you can’t see me in your room. But don’t bother look, because I have already left for a better, safer life and I won’t be coming back.
So here’s everything I couldn’t bring myself to say last night.
I love you deeply, Y/n. And I know your feelings towards me differ from my feelings towards you, but I’m not scared to hide it. You’re afraid of the power your heart holds and I understand that. For that, I will give you time, as much as you need to learn how to use this power.
I don’t know if I am a strong man or a coward for leaving; that I’m not sure of. But what I’m sure of is my life, and right now my life is in danger. I always spoke to you about how I wanted to have a normal life, to escape from this hell hole and build a different path for me.
Most importantly, I wanted to build this path with you. You’re the only thing that made this hell hole bearable, the only thing that gave me purpose, the thing that made my life have a meaning.
But I took some time to think and I realized that I can’t force you to follow the same path as me, no matter how much I need you or how much I want only what’s best for you.
So I left. I left to build this new path and I will try as hard as I can. I don’t care if I fail, because I know I can keep on trying and, no matter where you are, just the thought of you gives me strength.
I’m leaving you a piece of me behind though. My favorite guitar pick. I want you to have it. You can keep it, burn it, destroy it, I don’t care what you’ll do with it. I just want you to have something to remember me, something that means to me as much as you do.
So, for the meantime, mark me in your heart like I have marked you in mine, and think about what makes you truly happy. If you ever change your mind, you already know where to find me.
Your beloved,
M.
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risuola · 7 months
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DON'T HOLD BACK — F. READER x GETO SUGURU, who'’s as sweet as he's mean to you
If anyone got to know Suguru Geto, they would say that he's really nice guy, very kind and soft spoken, and they wouldn't be exactly wrong, but it seemed like you were the only person in the world that knows that Suguru, your tattoo artist boyfriend, is a meanie.
cw: smut, no-curse au, size difference, spanking, hair pulling, cunningulus, slight description of pain (tattoo related), so many pet names, Geto has tattoos and piercings (yup, that's a warning), there's an appearance od Satoru at the end, reader discretion is advised — 7,9k words
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If anyone would ask you few days ago what will you be doing on friday at 21:38pm, you’d probably respond with a large dose of confidence, that you’ll be resting in your bed. Maybe catching up on your favorite anime because you had no time to watch the newest episode during the week. You’d be lying comfortably, sipping on your favorite, fruity tea and if you’d feel fancy enough, maybe you’d even order yourself a pizza. That’s what you’d assume you’ll be doing late on friday, it sounded reasonable and reasonable is what you liked to call yourself.
Making spontaneous decisions is not a trait you’d give to your personality. You were always the one to think at least twice, usually more like seven times, before you commit to something, especially when it came to serious things such as body modifications or a choice of college. You were an overthinker, a helpless one to be exact, but that got you through life somewhat safely up until the point of reaching the sophomore year at uni. Your grades were fairly good, you had a little circle of people that were close to your heart, and you couldn’t think of many that you’d actually call your enemies. Being called a bore by your best friend was just a side effect of your usually cold and calculated thought process, but it never bothered you.
That was just who you were – a helpless overthinker – so it’s only natural, that you couldn’t find an answer reasonable enough to explain why on earth, on late friday evening, while the clock was slowly but surely heading towards 10pm, you were standing in front of the deep purple, slightly flickering neon sign that read Curseive.
A clever concoction of something so dark and mysterious as a curse and the intricate art of lines and shapes that the font cursive is all about – it hung up high above the entrance, written in a way that mirrored the conflicting feelings and somehow making it work. It was a tattoo salon, a relatively new one in your area, but it already had many good reviews online – or at least that’s what you assumed while doing the quickest research of your life. If scrolling through the messages left by customers for at most thirty seconds could be even called research. Why were you here? You had no clue, but you pushed the doors open and there was that little version of you sitting on your shoulder that wished you’ll just get asked out, because the salon was closing in about 20 minutes, but you decided to ignore the frail voice in your head and move forward.
When you stepped inside, it was empty in the lobby where the little sofa was situated for those who are waiting and a desk that was probably a reception. Dark walls around you were adorned by paintings that on the first glance looked to you like were handmade. Quickly you found yourself lost in the soft sound of buzzing that mixed with the quiet rock music playing somewhere in the background, as you began examining the artworks around you. One of the walls was made into a gallery of sorts, with the photographs of finished tattoos and printed patterns displayed in an array, supplemented with little descriptive notes and sometimes comments, that you assumed were left by clients. All of them were breathtaking and although you couldn’t see yourself rocking most of those heavy inks on your own skin, you were more than happy to appreciate and analyze. The precision of lines, the shading, the colors and composition – all of those tickled your artistic soul in ways not many things could and maybe it was the aesthete in you who stopped you from decorating your own body until this point, because fact is – you thought about getting a tattoo many times before. You really did and even had a pattern you really wanted, but it just scared the shit out of you to think someone could butcher it up and charge you for the mess. So, you never made an appointment. Until now. Now you were determined to do so.
You took one deeper breath, as if encouraging your own self to speak up and make your presence inside more obvious. The subtle scent of antiseptics and inks filled in your lungs as you inhaled, but instead of giving you more courage, you became more nervous. It’s just an appointment, you thought to yourself, you can always call later and say you have to call it off. Yeah, that sounded like a plan in your head and with that plan, your legs automatically moved towards the exit, despite what you wished to do.
“Running away, princess?”
That voice. You couldn’t mistake it for anyone else, you knew the soft, tender tone that even laced with malice sounded so pleasurable to the ear. You knew the owner, although not that close, but you met him many times – not one of them being all that nice. It was Suguru Geto, one of the biggest heartthrobs in your college. He rocked a disposable, black surgical mask that was pulled down under his chin and a pair of black gloves that he was in the process of taking off. Silver earrings glistened in the dim light of the salon, just as his rings were when he finally dealt with the hand protection. Your eyes glazed over the metallic accessories he had on – that also tickled something inside of you, triggering an unknown fantasy of having those long, ringed fingers of him deep in your… Suguru had nice hands.
“I’m not running away,” you told him, hoping that your voice was as firm as you intended it to be. Spoiler alert, it wasn't.
“No? Looked like it.” He chuckled, throwing the latex to the designated trash. His tone was taunting, you felt so small under the weight of his golden gaze. “Are you lost, little girl? You don’t exactly fit in that place now, do you?”
“You’re working here?” The question slipped through your mouth as if it wasn’t completely obvious from the very fact that he was here, alone, equipped in safety gloves and a mask, so near the closing time.
“Do I work here?” He took a look around himself, taking the mask off his ears and throwing it away before once again looking at you. “It’s kinda my place, so yeah, you could say so.”
That actually made sense the more you thought about it. Suguru was your senior, he was two years older and now finishing college. You had some of the faculties joint with his year and you were always the one to sit beside him – by the orders of the teacher, not by your own choice, although sitting next to him wasn’t that bad usually. You can clearly remember that during every lecture, he was doodling something on the screen of his ipad – something that you never really paid attention to because for your own good, you decided that staying away from the so-called frat boys was the best you could do. All this time, he probably was designing tattoo patterns.
“Right, so-“
“I assume, if you’re here that means you’d like to have something inked, is that correct?”
“Y-yeah, but, uh-“
“Are you 100% about it or did you come here to stutter?” You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious about your decisions or just mocking your nervousness, but either way, you felt it in ways you probably shouldn’t. This man had some power in his demeanor, and when he leaned over the counter, propping himself on the elbows and looking at you like a predator would glance at his pray, you felt small.
Suguru wasn’t the typical fuckboy, although he for sure was a magnet for the ladies, thanks to his absolutely stunning visual. That, you couldn’t deny – he was just gorgeous, with his sharp features that somehow still looked soft and inviting, the golden irises of his eyes that never faltered from eye contact, manly jawline and long, luscious locks of black hair that he often tied in a low bun. You never seen him in anything that wasn’t grey or black – white when it really was an odd day – but other than that, he was dressing in monochrome and you truly couldn’t blame him. He was a type to make the most boring sweats set look like the sexiest outfit on earth with just the fact that it was him who wore it. Yeah, he was gorgeous, you had to give him that, or rather blame him for that, because his apparition was for sure going to be the beginning to your end. Speaking dramatically, of course.
“I’m sure.” You forced out, mentally kicking yourself for being caught off guard just because it was him. You were never that taken aback near him, but you were also never alone with him. It was easier to stay indifferent when there were people around, when all of his focus wasn’t targeted at you and when that gorgeous pair of eyes wasn’t gazing straight into your soul. You felt like he could read your thoughts just by looking at you.
“Cool. So, let me close and you’d tell me what’s your vision.”
Suguru found your presence in his studio amusing. He’s seen you at uni, you were quite known in his circle of friends that unofficially were called the frat boys, even though your college didn’t really have this kind of organization. It’s due to your friendship with the cheerleader’s leader, but thing is – although you’re close with most of the fun girls, you were most definitely no fun whatsoever and for some reason, Geto found it interesting. And the fact you never faltered to speak up for yourself… How he’d wish to fuck the attitude out of you. He himself wasn’t exactly the type to party until blackout, drink until sunrise or have a checklist for girls to screw at the college. He had no wish to cross any names off of any list. Aware of his good looks, he used them to their limits to make his way through studies smoother and there were not many things that he couldn’t achieve if he tried hard enough. Even the principal of his faculty had a soft spot for him, so many things he was able to get away with. That being said, if he really wanted to have a girl, unless she was really hooked in someone else, he would probably face no issues of getting her. That’s what he thought, until you came to picture. Considering every charm and trick he had up his sleeve, he was almost certain that getting you wouldn’t be so easy for him, or for any of his friends. And now you were here, in his shrine, trying to sound confident when you most certainly weren’t. Adorable.
You watched him pulling down the shades in the windows and turning keys in the lock, effectively closing you both inside the studio and in a matter of few minutes, you were situated with him on the couch, sitting quite snug as you scrolled through your phone to find the picture of your little drawing. It took everything from you not to melt into his side. The way he smelled was intoxicating, a mixture of cedar wood, pepper and some kind of citrus – a tangerine if you were to guess. And the warmth of his body was so inviting. Before being so close to him, you didn’t even notice how cold you were – apparently your shorts and a sweatshirt weren’t good enough for the October evening, even though during the day it still was way too warm for the fall attire.
Geto waited patiently for you to find the picture you just told him about. The sketch you did that was meant to present him the idea of what you wanted to have tattooed onto your skin and as you were scrolling through your gallery, he took this time to take you in. He noticed that you have a really nice profile. Your lips were pouty, just slightly pushed forward and so kissable right now, as you were focused on the display in front of your face. Your hair looked good also and he couldn’t deny the fact that you looked like you’d perfectly fit into his arms. And on his dick. You were way smaller than him, but that wasn’t unusual – he was a fucking giant, but something in your frame made you appear like you’d slip into his embrace just right and that thought make him go crazy. It’s been quite some time since he found a girl so captivating.
“Here, I found it,” you informed, showing him the screen, and he placed his hand over yours, slightly shifting the device so he can see it better. A hum left his mouth as he analyzed the drawing you did. It showed two betta fishes, one black and one white, positioned in circle, as if they were chasing each other’s tails. The pattern was intricate – the fins were ruffled and detailed, scales bearing a little bit of shading and yet, the whole image was quite a simple one. It also reminded him a little about the yin and yang symbol. He liked the idea, it worked well with his perception of you and what surprised him was the fact that he as well had a little tandem of bettas tattooed on his body and there was no way you’d know that.
“And where would that be?”
“I thought on the sternum maybe?”
“Oh, that’s going to hurt like hell, princess,” Suguru chuckled, already opening the new canvas on his tablet. “How are you with pain?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ll be good,” you accentuated the words with a nod at the end and leaned in a little bit to see what he began to draw. The pencil slid over the grey colored screen with skill that stunned you. Just from memory and the little reference you had in your hand, he quite quickly created the basic sketch of what you just showed him.
That night you spent two hours with him on the couch in his salon, admiring in quiet the process of creating a finished artwork. You enjoyed every second of it, the artistic sequence of lines made something unbelievably good, impressing you to the very core, even though you already looked through the little gallery he had on the wall. Seeing it being put down in real time made it that much more captivating and you didn’t even notice how during the process you glued yourself to him, nearly laying your head over his strong shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.
When he was about to finish, you understood why he chose grey background to work with. As the last step, he dragged the white color over one of the fishes and that really made the whole piece magical.
“That’s perfect,” you told him when he tilted the screen so you could see it better. Taking his ipad in your hands to closer examine the creation of his hands, you nearly gasped at the incredible detail he put into the scales, shading each and every one individually. And the tails were so beautifully drawn, perfectly reflecting how they would just flow in the water.
Geto would lie if he said that the admiration your eyes were overflowing with wasn’t fueling his pride. Sure, his clients liked his projects – obviously, cause they let themselves be tattooed with them, but somehow the sparkle in your eyes sent a shiver down his spine.
“Is that so?” He purred, wrapping his arm around your back and planting his hand on the curve of your hip. There was no protest from you – quite the contrary, Geto noticed you even scooted a little closer, but the reason made itself apparent sooner than he’d expect. Even through the fabric of his dark washed jeans he could feel how cold was your thigh when it made full contact with the side of his leg. He placed a hand over your naked skin to check if his senses weren’t fooling him. “Gosh, you’re so cold.”
“It’s nothing,” you tried to shrug it off, but the feeling of his palm pressed against your plump flesh sent searing impulses through your nervous system. Slowly, you became almost painfully aware of how pleasant the near proximity of him was. How perfectly warm he felt next to you and your mind couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be even closer. You actively tried to suppress those thoughts, but it was damn difficult, when he was just right there, so easy to reach.
“You look great in those shorts, but the summer is over, pretty,” Suguru muttered, his voice just slightly amused as he let his fingers smooth over the supple flesh of your inner thigh. He was so close to where you wanted him to be and yet so far.
“Yea, I know. It was warm during the day though. I was supposed to be home hours ago,” you confessed with a sigh, already thinking about the cold you have to walk through to get to your apartment. It wasn’t far, but if you were freezing inside Curseive, you’d most likely turn into an icicle when you get out, considering it was already midnight.
“Well, let me schedule your appointment and I’ll take you home.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I’ll set you up for next month, so you’ll have plenty of time to chicken out,” he teased, shooting you a wink and making you roll your eyes.
That night, you did many things you’d call unreasonable. You spent few hours in closed space with a man you probably shouldn’t have anything in common, you leaned into him without giving it a second thought. That night you made an appointment to your first tattoo. That night Suguru carried you home in his arms, wrapped in a blanket he kept in the studio in case someone felt cold during the inking process. And that night, you let him into your bed.
If anyone was to meet Suguru for the first time, they’d probably say he’s absolutely perfect human being. Kind and always keen to help, very soft spoken and caring and mostly, they would be right, because he really was all of those things to the public eye. Before, you considered him a red flag, but it turned out, he didn’t leave you alone after he fucked you. You expected him to be gone as soon as he pulled his dick out of you, you expected him to ignore you after that night, but he stayed with you till morning, not even once letting go of you. You woke up to the soft kisses smeared over your shoulder and a little tickle of his hair brushing against your flesh instead of the cold bed.
You spend day after day at learning things about each other. You got to know how he liked his coffee in the morning, what foods he enjoy and what shampoo he uses to keep his hair so luscious and gorgeous all the time. Suguru noted to himself what sweets bring you the most joy, he discovered that the little scrunch on your nose when you’re laughing is the most adorable thing in the world and he also studied the playlist of your favorite music, finding out you share similar taste when it comes to songs. You spent hours drawing with him, creating designs on his tablet while sitting in between his legs, your back pressed to his broad chest. Sometimes he was suggesting changes to what you created and sometimes you were the one to add some details to what came from underneath his pen.
It’s been a month since you got together with him, or at least, since you started paying more attention to each other. With good dose of confidence, you could call him your boyfriend – even though it wasn’t officially talked through between you two, your actions made it pretty hard to deny. It just happened, after the first night together, you just became closer and there was no need to give it a title, when everyone knew you’re in relationship. You were holding hands in the campus, kissing publicly and spending time together for most of the breaks. You got to know his friends, his brothers and even got the password to unlock his phone. Yeah, it’s been only a month, but your bond with him developed quite quickly. Turned out, Suguru Geto wasn’t anything that you assumed he is. He’s lovely, really. Saccharine sweet if he really wants to be, but what no one seemed to be able to notice was that he really is a meanie sometimes.
Just like now, as you laid on the dark leathery bed in Suguru’s salon, already having enough of this whole idea of getting a tattoo and he only just started. To his credit, he did warn you that it’s going to hurt like hell, even suggested picking another place for your first tattoo with real concern in his voice, but you weren’t anticipating this kind of hell when you insisted you wanted it below your cleavage. It really was something you couldn’t compare to anything else in your life – maybe a kick in the shin, but continuous and in the middle of your chest.
Geto was working in focus, keeping his eyes on the pattern he was permanently imprinting onto your skin and taking little breaks from time to time to check on you. Last thing he wanted was you fainting there, and you felt like you were close. You couldn’t even focus on how the chocolate tasted on your tongue – the one he bought you, so you can have something to snack on during the process. The way his needles were stabbing the delicate, sensitive skin of your chest millions of times made you feel sick. The vibration of the machine reverberated directly into the bone below, enhancing the horrible experience and you could have sworn you were actually hearing the pain, while he was going over and over again through some areas. The choice of white ink made it that much worse, because to even make it properly visible, he had to re-trace the shapes more times and you felt each of them.
“Oh, you’re such a crybaby,” he teased softly, noticing the glistening trace of a tear that just rolled down your cheek. “Told you it’s gonna be a painful process.”
“Oh, shut up, Sugu,” you muttered, wiping the salty mark away and taking another chocolate. “Can we take a little break?”
“Let me finish that one and I’ll give you a minute. Sounds cool?”
“Uh-huh…”
You weren’t looking at what he was doing, and those little moments that he promised will get you that breather you asked for seemed to stretch for hours. The constant, sickening poking of the needles seemed to never end and at some point, you really were that close to just yank him by the hair and throw the tattoo gun out the window, just so he’ll stop for even a moment. But the break never came, Suguru just kept going, telling you he needs to just finish that line until the relief washed over you, when he smeared some kind of gel over the area of your sternum. You felt almost orgasmic, when the cold, soothing fluid covered the burning skin between your breasts.
“You can stop crying now, baby girl, we’re all done,” he all but sneered, making sure to cover the entire pattern with the healing formula that he made sure was enriched with anesthetics. He ordered that specially for your session.
“We’re done?” You repeated after him, wiping away the tears.
“Yes, baby, save those tears for me later.” He teased, helping you get up from the bed and you hopped down on the ground to properly see the artwork in the mirror. The skin around the lines was red, but the pattern itself made you gasp. It was made so beautifully, the lines were crisp and very thin, perfectly mirroring the vision you had, and the white ink? Gorgeous. Suguru put his entire soul into your tattoo, it was a mark he left on you that will stay there forever and sometimes you wished he’ll stay with you just as long.
“You’re so mean,” you grumbled, admiring the shapes that now were stuck to you permanently. Geto laughed quietly and wrapped his already ungloved hands around you, standing right behind and checking his work in the reflection.
“And what’s my crybaby gonna do about it?” He couldn’t help the mock and the glare you shot him only made his laughter bigger.
“I’ll ban you from my bed,” you deadpanned, a soft pout forming on your mouth and you slapped his hand away when he tried to undo the only button that held your tiny cardigan together.
“Then I’ll take you to mine and you’ll have to deal with Satoru sleeping with us. You know he can’t help himself and you know how that will end, right?”
“I know, I know…” you sighed, too focused on the lines that adorned your skin to care about the clinginess of Gojo, although you felt the soft cringe washing over you quickly. The artist in you was screaming, giggling and kicking its legs – the tattoo was everything you wished it to be and more. “It’s so beautiful, Sugu.”
“You like it, huh?” Geto smiled, leaning in to have a taste of you. The kiss he pressed to the side of your neck sent immediate shivers down your spine and you tilted your head as an automatic reaction. Your body knew that giving him more space will result in more pleasure. “I like it too,” he purred against your skin. “No bra for you for at least few days, pretty. I’ll be checking.”
“No cum on my tits either, poor little you.”
“You didn’t just call me little, did you?”
“And if I did?”
“Isn’t my dick pretty much the size of your entire forearm?” He joked, looking you up and down in the mirror. It was comical in a sense, to see what buttons you were eager to push when it was clear as day that you’re just tiny next to him.
"I wouldn't say so."
“Oh, you little brat. And to think I felt guilty for making you cry today,” Suguru shook his head and it was you this time who chuckled.
“You shamelessly tortured me for two hours, where’s the guilt in that?”
“I could have tortured you for three. Am I not the best for making it quick?”
“You’d love to make me suffer for longer, wouldn’t you?”
“Not before, but now I might wanna make you cry a little more.”
You shook your head and followed him, so he could put the protective film over the tattoo and once you sat on the edge of the tattooing bed, Geto pressed not only the second skin to your chest but also his lips to yours. The force with which he leaned against you made you almost loose your balance as the metallic frame underneath you squeaked from the sudden weight change. With ease, the man encaged you between his arms, intimidating your small form with his much larger one. You were no match for Geto when it came to sizes. He is a damn giant next to you – tall and broad, nothing but wall of muscle with limbs long and strong. Sometimes, you found it unfair how easily he was able to overpower you, manhandling you any way he wanted, no matter how much you’d fight.
You grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his weight overpowering you and you tried to push him away, desperate to catch some air into your lungs but that desperation only made you mewling into his mouth. The cold metal of his lip piercing never failed to send shivers down your spine, whenever he was kissing you like his life depended on it. He made you feel special, even though you were far from it.
“My sweet girl,” Suguru praised, his words being kissed away by you, because as much as you needed oxygen, you also needed him just a little bit closer. “My little crybaby.”
“I think you owe me some kind of apology for the pain you’ve put me through,” you muttered, grabbing his lower lip between your teeth and swiftly taking the elastic from his hair. The pitch-black locks fell down his broad shoulders, keeping the slightest curl to them from the way they were tied up.
“Oh yeah?” A grin stretched his lips and his fingers immediately found their way to the front of your jeans. “I’m not going to apologize for something you signed up for, but I’ll gladly eat that pussy as a form of payment.”
His remark made you roll your eyes, but any comment you wished to throw at him got lost when he pressed his digits to your clothed clit. Suguru smiled in satisfaction, feeling the wet patch spreading over your panties. Desperate to see it all, he pulled back and took those jeans off of you completely, taking your underwear along with it. Cold air hit your soaked folds, making you shiver as you spread out for him.
“Look at you,” Geto smirked, sitting down on his stool and spinning your panties around his pointer finger, “all wet and ready and I barely just touched you. Or is it that pain you’re so whiney about what made your panties so soaked?”
“Don’t focus on that,” you muttered, snatching the cotton from his hands. “Focus on me.”
“So demanding.” Suguru chuckled, but truth was, as much as he wished to tease you a little more, his mouth was already watering at the sight in front of him. You were a meal he’d choose to have as his last supper, the most delicious dessert he could slurp on for hours and never get bored. Every inch of you, he found to be perfect, you raised the bar of his standards to the point he couldn’t even look at other girls around him. You really got him addicted and he wasn’t even mad about it.
The feeling of hot kisses Suguru was planting all over your thighs made you scoot closer to the edge. Usually, you’d let him do his thing – you loved his mouth marking your skin. You loved the bruised spots he liked to suck on here and there only to claim his place beside you, you loved the soft touches and harsh grips. But now, you really wanted him to jump straight to action. Those nips and kisses can wait.
You allowed your fingers to brush through his silky locks, your nails scratched his scalp along the way and he purred softly before a gasp cut the sound short – it surprised him how roughly you grabbed the strands of his hair, right next to his scull and pushed his head nose deep into your pussy. It was new to him, no one ever dared to tug at his hair and when it was you, he was more than keen to get used to it. The stinging feeling of the pull at his hair follicles sent an impulse straight down to his already erected cock, making it now impossibly hard and Suguru was thanking himself that his work attire that day consisted of sweatpants and not jeans.
You couldn’t help yourself, you knew he had the strength to fight you back if he really needed, so his suffocation wasn’t any of your concerns. And Geto took the challenge with pleasure. His pierced tongue danced over your clit as if he was trying to tattoo his own name over the swollen bud between your folds. The mixture of his hot muscle and cold metal made you whine above him, squeezing his hair even harder, pushing his head even deeper. A low, deep purr that left his throat reverberated through your entire nervous system and sipping into the bloodstream, making the pleasure rush inside your veins instead of blood.
“Oh my god, Suguru-“, you breathed out, coming undone just underneath the skill he had in his mouth. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, like he would die if he won’t bring you over the edge just with his tongue, like he was born to pleasure you. A coil quickly began to form in your stomach, a string threatening to snap at any given moment if he’ll continue with the intensity of his actions. Your thighs trembled, squeezing around his head, but he held them apart with force. He wasn’t done with you yet.
You couldn’t control the way his name was leaving your mouth; it came out like a prayer that he’d love to listen on repeat for the rest of his life. A music that filled his ears with pleasure and that pleasure seeped down, creating a river of ecstasy running down straight to his straining cock. You really got him to the point he felt he’s going to cum in his pants, but then the hold on his hair loosened. He used that moment to catch a breath before going back to his work.
“Don’t hold back,” he purred, keeping your hand where it belonged over his head, getting rid of any guilt you felt regarding pulling at his hair. You came not long after and he happily slurped you through the bliss, licking away everything you gave him, devouring your pussy as if nothing better was ever going to happen to him. “So sweet,” he grinned, finally pulling away. His face covered with your slick and hair messed up from where you held it, and he looked so beautiful like that when you looked back at him. Surrounded by haze of your release, he looked nearly angelic when he got up, pushing back the stool and taking his rightful place between your still trembling thighs. Giving you a moment to collect yourself, Suguru used it to take off his t-shirt for no other reason that to feel your hands over his skin and you were quick to press your palms over his tattooed flesh.
Geto’s body was only one of things that were impressive about him, but unarguably one of the most breathtaking. Years of training martial arts made his shape resemble the stone statues of gods. A hard wall of muscles covered with a light layer of soft skin and adorned by black lines of ink. You never failed to trace your fingers along the dragon that curled around his entire arm and spreading onto his chest. He also had a line of letters underneath the side of his ribcage and two betta fishes swimming up along his spine, following a trace of abstract lines and dots. He had told you once about the meanings beside all of images that adorned his body, but you couldn’t recall them now as he was once more kissing you feverishly. You tasted yourself all over his mouth, you took in his purrs and low groans that vibrated in his throat when you pushed down the waistline of his sweatpants, palming him through his boxers.
Geto grabbed your thighs, repositioning you closer the edge.
“Shouldn’t I avoid any physical activities with that tattoo so fresh?” You asked him with the littlest teasing undertone and he grinned, kissing your lips and everywhere around them with fervor.
“I’ll go slow, babygirl,” he promised, but slow is hardly the word he’d use once he pushed his girth into you. If you were a drug, Suguru was addicted to the point of no return, he never had enough of you, always too little, always eager for more and more and more. You were a godsend to him, a gift he was certain he never deserved but he cherished it with all of his might. Just like with all of his might he began thrusting into you.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking them above his pelvis as if you needed to make sure he’s not going anywhere. Soft pants and whimpers were leaving your mouth every time his hips collided with yours and the sounds you were making concocted an erotic symphony with the low grunts he let slip through his throat. The melodic line of mixed voices, quiet praises and heavy breaths accompanied the desperate squeaking of the bed below you and wet reminders of how he was fucking into your dripping pussy.
Every ruthless push and pull of his hips sent surges of pleasure through your body. Lust and heat erupted inside of you like a volcano and the searing lava of endorphins turned your brain into a flurry. The room around was lapsing, nothing else mattered and even the untrusty bed underneath you, that held there just barely underneath the force of Suguru’s relentless slams couldn’t bother you when he was fucking you that good.
Flaming hot waves of white covered your vision as you hid your face in the crook of Geto’s neck. Panting for air, you held onto his shoulders harshly, digging your nails into the flesh there and marking it in red with crescent moons and scratches. The stinging pain made him whine in excitement, the sound low and prolonged enough to make your walls clench and flex around him. The stretch of his cock was setting your mind ablaze along with your body, your heart was beating fast and threatening to jump out of your chest.
“Sugu-ru-ah~”, you were panting, whimpering shamelessly under the force of his pelvis slamming against yours and he grinned above you, his grip over your hips merciless and bruising.
“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, smearing wet kisses along the line that led from underneath your ear to your shoulder. Something incoherent left your mouth and you felt yourself close, the swollen walls of your pussy squeezing him repeatedly and he knew you were close but wasn’t ready to give it to you quite yet.
It’s like you blacked out for a moment because it felt like you barely blinked and then your position changed. You didn’t notice how swiftly Geto slid onto the bed himself, situating you over his lap.
“Hop on baby, work for it a little,” he mocked lovingly, giving your ass cheek an encouraging slap. There was barely enough place for the two of you, but you made it work anyway, sliding back down onto his dripping from your juices cock. A soft moan escaped your lips as his girth once again squeezed into your oversensitive insides, pushing against every sweet spot on the way and making you shiver as the tip kissed your cervix. Desperate to feel more of him, you began rolling your hips, working your way into the palace of pleasure that Suguru Geto was and making the most out of the current position. His exposed chest and neck begged to be devoured and you couldn’t leave them neglected, so your mouth was on his skin in no time.
Suguru kept bucking his hips upwards, gasping and growling underneath you. His hands left burning marks over your ass, each slap sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body and the little whines you were letting out against his skin fueled the intense fire that burned inside of him even more. Sometimes Geto couldn’t believe you really were with him. Sometimes he wondered if maybe he’s high on something, maybe he’s imagining you, but only thing he really was high on, was you. Nothing could compare to the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock, to the way your little hands were grasping his arms and shoulders just to steady yourself when his force was becoming too much and absolutely nothing could stand even close to the intoxicating feeling of your lips on top of his. You really were made just for him, it had to be fate that once you stumbled upon his studio. He still remembers the first time you let him in, spontaneously inviting him over and after that, every day seemed to be somehow better than the previous one. Every minute he spent with you managed to surprise him with how good it felt. Suguru was hooked on you. But how could he not, when you had the ability to strip him of everything that was cool about him, leaving him raw and sensitive just for you?
“Fuck, c’mon, cry for me,” he panted, forcing your hips to move even when you clearly were running low on power. Your entire body was tensing, the velvety walls of your pussy squelching over his length and he felt himself flexing inside the hot embrace of you. The rush of ecstasy sent him overboard, it filled his veins and neurons with blissful daze of desire, and he found himself chasing the high, bracing for the impact of upcoming climax.
You whined and melted into him, lost in the haze and diving head first into the puddle of pleasure. The feeling overtook you, you couldn’t think anymore when he was pulling you underneath the euphoric sea. You felt light from pleasure, the ferocity of his movements burning you inside out, sending seething waves throughout your entire form. With vision blurred, nothing felt real anymore and if not for the rough grip he had on your hip and ass, you’d probably fly away and never get back.
Lost in the stars and haze of orgasm, you pushed yourself up, encouraged by few more harsh slaps and Geto followed you to sit up for no other reason than to be able to still taste you. At this point you were sure he tattooed not only betta fishes onto your chest but also the imprint of his hands to your butt cheeks. Gathering every last bit of strength you had in your muscles, you rolled your hips against him few times more. All of the intensity that was building inside of you snapped suddenly. Your spine arched and head rolled back, exposing your neck and chest to his kisses as he pushed you over the edge of bliss and you fell off that cliff with nothing but acceptance. Tears of pleasure rolled down your face and Geto was quick to kiss them away as they gathered along your lashes and down your jawline.
The weak sound of his name slipping down your tongue was enough for Suguru to let go. White hot ribbons of cum sprayed deep inside you as you rode him through both of your orgasms, the movements of your hips now slower and sloppier, bearing no more strength in them and yet, time after time you pulled them back and forth, desperate to feel him a little longer, to take more from him.
“My little crybaby,” he cooed, when you finally run out of battery, settling down on him and leaning against his broad chest, hiding there to catch your breath. You were sore, still overwhelmed by the avalanche of feelings that just fell over your head but satisfied to the point of delirium – so much so that you let the little honey-covered taunt slip. Suguru smoothed your back softly, relaxing in your proximity, once again stunned how somehow, you managed to make all of it feel better than the last time you slept together. Highs with you were unforgettable. Nonreplaceable. Incomparable to anything else he ever felt with anyone.
“Thanks god you’re strong,” you muttered against his skin, planting there few kisses while you’re at it. “I don’t think my legs will work after that.”
Geto chuckled. Yeah, he was going to marry you one day.
“No worries, sweet thing, your place in my arms is secured for lifetime.”
“Good.”
“But first, let me get you cleaned up.”
Your legs were weak when you got off of him, but surprisingly carried you enough to allow you to slowly pull yourself together. Suguru cleaned the space a little while you got dressed and made sure the protective film over your fresh tattoo was unharmed during the activities before you buttoned up your cardigan.
* * *
“Suguru, you still here?” Gojo stormed in, even though the studio was locked, but truth was, nothing could really be locked when it came to Satoru.
“Don’t tell me you copied the keys to my studio.” Geto chuckled, finishing the final wipe of the bed. There was no force that could stop his friend from invading his spaces, he dropped the effort years ago.
“I won’t tell you, you got this.” Satoru shrugged and looked at you. Then at Suguru and back at you, repeating that at least few times. “Were you two fucking here?”
“And why would you ask that?”
“No, the real question is, did that thing endure it?” White haired man pointed at the leathery bed. “What a champ, I thought it’ll collapse.”
“Fair,” you admitted at the same time as Suguru, and handed your man the hair elastic that you snatched from him earlier.
“So, what were you doing here? Besides contaminating the area of course.”
“I got a tattoo,” you replied to him and Satoru grinned.
“For real? That chest piece he told me month ago that you’ll for sure chicken out for?”
“Yeah, that one.” This time it was you who laughed and Geto just shrugged, tying up his hair.
Satoru wasted no time, it’s like he teleported to you and before you registered what was happening, he was already unbuttoning your blouse and truly, you couldn’t really be bothered. It’s been only a little less than a month since you really got to know Gojo, but it was very quickly presented to you that him and your boyfriend have a thing for sharing. It was as natural for them as breathing and whenever you saw them together, you wondered how it happened that they weren’t brothers by blood.
“It’s so cool, Suguru. Who knows, maybe I’ll let you tattoo something on me too.” Snow white grinned, examining the concoction of lines over your sternum. He had to bend in half almost, to be in line with the pattern on your skin so you brushed through his hair, messing them more than they were already.
“Not that it’s my life mission to do so, Satoru.” Geto stretched his body and glanced over the room once more, making sure he can close the studio for that day without leaving any visible remnants of what happened just moments ago.
“Doesn’t it kinda look like us?” Gojo asked, stopping you before you covered yourself back. “The black and white contrast… am I the only one who think so?”
It wasn’t your intention, but as he said it, you began seeing it. It really made sense, especially considering that Geto mixed the tiniest bit of lavender ink to the white, to prevent it from yellowing over time. That lavender coincidentally being the exact shade as the undertone of Gojo’s hair.
“Well, not anymore,” the black haired one sighed and once you managed to button up your blouse, he swooped you up into his arms. “You’re gonna lock the doors, Satoru. Turn off the lights.”
“Sooo…” Gojo nearly sang, flicking off the switches and turning the keys in the locks, making sure everything is well secured before he joined you two, already walking slowly towards your home. “Are you ours now?”
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822 notes · View notes
m1ssunderstanding · 2 months
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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.1
Cynthia and John are worse and crazier for admitting what they admitted in the bio. But Jane and Paul are not exempt.
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Will forever love this pic of Paul and Julian. He does not look like the fun uncle. He looks tired and dependable. Just stepped out of the womb as a father, didn't he? The sperm that fertilized his egg probably passed some fatherly advice and hair tussles to the other sperm as it passed them. 
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They should've bought the fucking island.
They never look more like a couple than when the women they're actually dating are right next to them. 
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The India footage actually looks so beautiful. Obviously it's a beautiful place, but they all genuinely look so free and at peace there. It really could've been so good for them. Getting enlightened, getting soberish, growing closer as a band, taking a much-needed rest. It should've been good. 
The music choices in this documentary! The drastic shift from, “all you need is love” and “the dream I had was true” and “I don't need much to set me free.” to Paul leaving to “yes I'm lonely. Wanna die.” “I'm going insane.” “Look at me. Who am I supposed to be?” 8d8 psychic damage. And the thing is it's real. John really did flip a switch, just like that.
Smashing my head into a wall. It's the same as Yoko's quote about how ‘nobody hurt John more than Paul.’ Really Pete? Worse than after his mum died? Really Yoko? More than that drunk cop? Paul, what the fuck did you do to him in India, seriously, because at this point in the doc I can't accept the theory that it was just some lack of communication, I just can't. 
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It's also telling to me that when John's losing it, everyone's solution is some time alone with Paul. Nobody panic. Paul can fix him. Little do they know Paul's the one that broke him. Or maybe they do know and that's only another reason they know Paul's the only man for the job?
Old-fashioned ad voice: You liked Protective Jesus Scandal Paul? You'll love Protective LSD Scandal John! Really. Before the question is even out, he's making fun of it. I think he cuts off the interviewer at least three times with jokes before he can get the sentence out, and by the time he is, Paul's giggling too hard to feel bad about his little PR fuck-up.
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Then he lets Paul talk a bit before jumping back in, this time with his Hard Man suit on. It's just so good. A testament to their unconditional love, really. Because, clearly, Paul's just hurt John pretty bad. And yet, here John is. Using every trick he's got to defend his friend. 
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But actually, though John is supposedly the one everyone's worried about, Paul's doing a pretty shit job of being the “stable” one. This entire press tour he's either fucking blazed and laughing at everything or disassociated and not contributing.
(((except during that political discussion – again! Paul secretly has actual thoughts on actual things?!)))
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But for the most part, John's absolutely holding down the fort. I wonder if this is another case of everyone – all their friends and business associates, just like we as a fandom still do now – assuming John is the problem child, and Paul's the strong one, but actually they're both both. 
Back to the political interview. They're just so in sync. Finishing each other's sentences when you're talking about the weather or your shared work is one thing. Finishing each other's sentences on complex topics like why poor whites often vote bigots in or the cause of rampant misinformation is quite another. 
“Letting his dad cut his hair at sixteen, seventeen.” You all know that John hates Jim quote. 
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John: so there's war, and vegetables. There's relativity and absolute.  Paul (absolutely smitten): that's great Johnny. Int: that's rather hard for people to interpret. John: well if they can't interpret it now, maybe they will later..... 1. John really was extremely intelligent. 2. That last statement sums up Beatles historiography.
Paul really just Won't be alone with John, will he? Well, two can play at that game, Paul, and John's going to win, let me tell you. 
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But he's going to do one last panic grab for attention first.
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I really do think if John had done something like that *before* Paul would've given him that attention. Told him he's being insane and taken him home to splash some cold water on him or something and then given him whatever softness Paul was capable of. But not anymore. 
I wonder if Paul could go back to 1966 if he just wouldn't have taken John to that Indica show where he met Yoko. If he would've just said “okay John, sure, let's just stay home and trip on the couch tonight.” I don't know.
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Anyway, Yoko gets an A+ for persistence. Imagine being Paul, George, or Ringo, though, and John is suddenly madly in love with this woman whose been begging you all (and then him specifically) for a platform for over a year? It would be weird to say the least. 
John: don't you hate me? I'm crazy, you know. Paul: no I don't hate you. John: aren't you pissed at me now, Paul? Even a little bit? Paul: I'm very proud of you. It's the unstoppable force (“Don't ‘nore me, Mimi!”) vs the immovable object (“I learned to put a shell around me”.) Someone get them some professional help before they nuke the whole world. 
“There is, however, a desire to get power in order to use it for good.” One of those quotes that just really lets you see a person, you know? Benevolent dictator Paul. 
Yoko, why are you talking about how bad your boy doesn't want to fuck you right in front of all his closest friends and on record for posterity? If you have to be talking about your sex life, shouldn't you be lying about how insanely horny he is for you? Oh, right, she will think of that, just not yet. 
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And then she waxes poetic about how turned on John is when he's working on music with Paul. Cool. Smart. Thanks for that, though, genuinely.
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And Then (gosh, Yoko is such an asset to Beatles history when she's not actively spreading misinformation. Everyone give her a hand) she goes on about how Paul goes out of his way to make her feel respected and even valued. Compare that to John and Linda, anyone? And I want to be clear, I'm not saying this means John cares too much and Paul doesn't care at all, which might be the surface read. I just think John's reaction was to scream in everyone's face that he was in pain and Paul's was to insist ad nauseam that he was fine. You know?
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owliellder · 8 months
Text
Loving Takes Time
Leon Kennedy x afab Satyr Hybrid! Reader
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MDNI 18+
Trigger Warning for the nature of the content
Description: Leon goes with Chris to just look at hybrids up for adoption, not really expecting to bring such a strange one home.
Warnings: Not proofread, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Major Size Difference and 5-Year Age Difference, Leon is a PERVERT but he's still gentle 🫶
Tags: One-shot, Female Reader uses she/her, No use of y/n, Leon is 5'11", Reader is 4'0", Virgin Reader, Smut, Somnophilia, Picture Taking, Lactation, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Cowgirl Position, Belly Bulge, Dirty Talk, Ass Play
Words: 8.9k
Author's Note: Okay now I know this is a pretty strange/questionable one, but I've had this idea in my pocket for awhile and, once again, this is pure self-indulgence because if I could be ANYTHING in the world I would be a satyr 😭 They're the cutest little scampers!!!
Please forgive me for my transgressions 💔 I honestly felt so guilty writing this even though a lot of these tags reflect me (please don't hate me)
Cross-posted onto AO3
"I'm serious, we're just going to look!"
"Chris, 'just looking' always leads to either you or me getting something." Leon emphasized with hand quotes, giving Chris an incredulous look.
Both men were sitting in Chris' car that was parked in the relatively empty parking lot for the Hybrid Adoption Center. Leon had expressed *once* that he thought having a pet would be fun, but he knew a pet would be hard to manage with his field of work. He'd been partially aware of hybrids, yet he was less than convinced on the idea of having what was essentially a pet person.
"Look, I know. I get it-" "I don't wanna hear it. We're just here to look." Leon cut Chris off, waving his hand dismissively before opening the passenger door. "Even on the off chance I find one that I like, I'm in no way prepared to bring them home." He slid out of the car, Chris following suit. The older man followed Leon around the front of the car, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "Alright, alright.. Whatever you say, ya big grouch."
If Chris hadn't had to make an appointment to see the hybrids, then Leon would've found any excuse not to come. He did try, don't get him wrong, but Chris is notoriously persistent. A worm in his ear.
Once the two had made their way inside the adoption center, Chris confirmed his appointment to visit with the hybrids with a nice old lady who happily greeted them from the front desk. "There's still a couple in the back looking, but I'll let them know their time is up. Give me just a minute-" she quickly stood up and walked out from the front desk and into the back kennels.
Good. A little time to look around. Leon thought to himself with a small hum, moseying around the front room. He carefully looked at the various items; clothes, leashes, collars, bags of food, toys, treats, everything. He had a feeling that he was going to end up with some random puppy hybrid today, so it was worth it to look at all this ahead of time.
After only a few minutes, the old lady returned with the couple, nodding with a smile as they promised to come back once they'd made up their mind. Leon silently wishes Chris would give him the luxury of choice like they had.
"Leon! C'mon, let's go!" Chris happily exclaimed, only to be shushed by the lady. Apparently most of the hybrids are pretty sensitive to the sound as it echoes back in the kennels. At least the older man listened to someone here. "Lead the way." Leon held his hand up, letting Chris walk in front of him through the door to the kennels.
What they walked through were the puppy hybrids first, probably the most popular. And the noisiest. They were super excitable, which was undeniably cute, but at the end of the day Leon wasn't looking for a high-maintenance pet. He needed one with self-sustainability, and preferably one that wouldn't smother him either. The last thing he wants is to feel guilty every morning leaving for work. So a puppy hybrid? Out of the question.
Chris was quietly ooging out over every single hybrid they past, all the way through to the quieter kitty and bunny section. All cute, a cat hybrid seemed to be most aligned with what Leon wanted. None of them really caught his eye, though.
Near the end of their little walkthrough, Leon decided to look through the puppy kennels one last time, furrowing his brow when he noticed an empty kennel in the back. It being empty isn't what confused him, it was the kennel card still hanging on the chainlink fence that did it.
Making his way over, he carefully studied the card. No picture and a pretty vague description was provided. A... goat? They have a goat with the puppies back here? Reading on, he noticed that it said you were twenty-five years old, five years younger than he was. Guess you'd been there at the shelter for awhile too.
You weren't in the main kennel area, though. Probably hiding in the back. It was strange they had you with the puppies, they were so barky, but maybe they had no other place to put you? That's the most reasonable explanation.
Chris noticed Leon looking at the empty kennel with pursed lips, walking up behind him with crossed arms. "Out of everything here, you zero in on the kennel that has nothing in it?" Leon turned to face Chris, responding with a simple "... there's a goat in there" before going back to trying to see through the small square hole at the back of your kennel that led to the employee-only side, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.
"You're joking. A goat?" Chris raised an eyebrow, pushing Leon over to the side a bit so he could read your kennel card as well. "Aren't those for farms or something?"
"Yeah, I thought so too.." Leon hummed, crouching down next to Chris' legs as he continued to try and look through the hole. The old lady from the front desk soon made her way back to tell the two men that their time was almost up, only to find them studying your kennel.
"She's a shy one." She spoke up with a smile, alerting both men of her presence. "Hides when people come through the door, but she is easy to entice with a little snack?" The old lady noticed Leon seemed most interested and decided to bend down as best as she could to hand him a small peppermint candy.
"Okay..." Leon seemed a bit confused yet accepted the peppermint anyways, tossing it in his hand a couple times before slotting it through the fence. It didn't take long for you to appear, poking your head out through the square hole with your nose sniffing away. Perky goat ears and small curled horns, seemed standard enough.
It wasn't until you very cautiously stepped out, eyes on the three standing in front of her kennel that Leon seemed more interested than before. From your hips down you had fur, full blown goat legs that ended with the daintiest little hooves. He noticed your tail once it wagged a couple times at the scent of the peppermint. It made him crack a smile. Now that's interesting!
"Oh wow, she's..." Leon started to speak, his voice quickly trailing off as the suddenness must've started you. "Yes, she's a bit more 'animal' than the rest. The livestock usually are." The old lady seemed to know what he was going to say. It must be confusing to a lot of people.
"Small, too." Chris chimed in, arms still crossed as he looked down at you, watching you crouch low and stretch your arm to reach for the peppermint to avoid getting any closer to the chainlink fence.
"A pygmy goat. Regular goat hybrids tend to be a foot taller, but she's only about 4 feet. Very small little lady." The old lady chuckled softly, watching you scurry back through the hole to hide after successfully grabbing the peppermint. "I can take you into one of our meeting rooms if you'd like to get a better look?"
Before Leon could respond, Chris decided to just accept the offer for him, laughing as he watched the other man's face fall with annoyance. "Oh come on, don't be so sour." Chris firmly grabbed Leon's arm and hoisted him up from his crouched position before nudging his forward. "Lead the way, miss."
The colorfully painted walls of the meeting room were rather welcoming as both men wandered in. On the back wall sat a bench with some old cushions and blankets sitting on the seat. Chris took the liberty to sit down while Leon leaned against the wall next to it, grumbling quiet nonsense to himself.
The old lady excused herself to go retrieve you from your kennel, leaving Chris to poke fun at Leon for his sudden interest for only a moment before she returned with you on a lead.
She was right, you were small. "Alright, sugar, easy now." You were also very obviously nervous, hiding behind the elder woman's legs as she walked into the room with you. She gently pet the top of your head, fixing a few strands of your hair that got stuck wrapped around your tiny horns. "Just remember to move slow with her and you'll have the perfect little lap pet."
The old lady's voice was soft as she slowly made her way over to Chris, handing him the end of your lead as he nodded in agreement. You tried to follow the lady as she walked back out of the room only to be stopped by the lead, causing you to start whining with your ears pinned to the sides of your head as you stared at the now closed door.
"Hey," Leon was crouched down again, clicking his tongue to try and get your attention, "hey it's okay, she'll be back soon." You whipped your head around to look at him, freezing where you stood as you watched Leon reach a hand out. You sniffed the air a bit, staring both men down, almost as if you were sizing them up.
"Pretty cute, huh Leon?" Chris whispered. He was really laying it on thick and as much as Leon hated to admit it, you were growing on him. "Here, sit down on the bench and I'll give you her leash." As he spoke, Chris scooted to the side more to make room for the other man.
After carefully standing up to not scare you, he sat down on the bench next to Chris, taking the loop on the end of the lead as it was offered to him. Leon was a little nervous only because you were nervous, what if you bite?
It took some time, but with a lot of gentle coaxing and few extra peppermints provided by the old lady, you were soon standing in front of Leon's legs, chin resting on his knees as he scratched behind your left ear. During that time Leon had introduced himself to you, and though you didn't respond, your ears perking up to listen was enough confirmation that you heard him.
"You're breaking." Leon frowned at Chris' remark, eyes locked on your relaxed face. He could just barely see your fluffy tail wagging, moving his hand around to lift your head up as to scratch underneath your chin. The second he heard that happy little chitter from the back of your throat he knew it was over.
Chris gave a small 'oh' when he noticed Leon's smile forming. "You broke." The younger man only sighed in response, now using both hands to massage your furry ears. "I'll go get that lady." You jumped slightly when Chris suddenly stood, but Leon was quick to distract you with another peppermint.
The paperwork to take you home was relatively simple, thankfully. Leon took every recommendation from the elder lady about what items to buy, along with taking the blanket that was kept in your kennel. Something that already smelled like you would help ease you into a new home, or so he was told.
You were surprisingly easy on the ride home, both men staying quiet with the radio playing low just in case you panicked. Chris helped Leon set up all your stuff before bringing you inside, leading you over to where your blanket was laid out in the medium sized cage now set up in the corner of Leon's living room. You stayed in the cage as the men said their goodbyes, now left alone with Leon.
He gave you time to settle, only choosing to react to you once he noticed you quietly crawl out from the cage and begin surveying the living room from where he sat on the couch. "Hey there, little lamb."
His voice startled you slightly, making eye contact with him for a brief moment before offering him a shy smile. "Hi.." You whispered back in response, looking around as you slowly stepped over to Leon. He hadn't heard you speak until now, so this hopefully meant you were growing more relaxed around him.
"Quite the change." Leon hummed and you only nodded, looking off to the side as you rested your chin on one of his knees again. "It's a lot quieter here though, yeah?"
"Yeah..." Your voice was so sweet, even if just a whisper right now.
"Good." Leon cooed, reaching down to rub your ears. "How ya feeling?"
You shrugged, eyes still darting around the room even as they became lidded with the gentle caresses on your ears.
"What about a bath?" You looked back up into his eyes at the suggestion, eyebrows raising up. It had been awhile since you were given a bath..
Your reaction must've been enough as it prompted Leon to stand up, bending down a bit to hold onto your hand before leading you up the stairs and to the bathroom attached to his bedroom.
Luckily most of his living room and the bedrooms were carpeted, so he didn't have to worry about you slipping there. The tiled kitchen and bathrooms were another story as you immediately slipped with a yipe once stepping into the bathroom, furry legs shaking as you held yourself still as best as you could in an awkward half-splits position.
The man lifted your arm up above your head by your hand, lifting you up a bit in the process so you could reach the rug in front of the bathtub without anymore risk. "I gotcha, kiddo. Don't panic."
He kept one hand on the top of your head as a single to stay where you were while he turned the bathtub faucet on, plugging the drain once the water was warm enough. He was directed to buy a specific soap for you, so he used that to create some bubbles in the bath in hopes of giving you a little bit of fun.
You were carefully lifted up and into the water as soon as it was ready and the faucet was turned off, sighing softly at the warmth. You were always so anxious in the shelter which meant your muscles were always stiff. This was a nice change of pace.
"Wash off that shelter stink." Leon chuckled when you closed your eyes, sitting down on his legs before grabbing an empty cup to scoop and pour the soapy water over your head.
The attention you were receiving was unfamiliar, but definitely not unwelcome. His fingernails scratching your scalp was heavenly and you couldn't help but coo at the feeling.
"That good?" The man asked, smiling as you tilted your head towards his hands whenever he moved them.
"Mhm." You tilted your head back as he massaged his hands down your neck, using a clean washrag that he grabbed from underneath the sink not too long ago. He was able to get away with washing your whole upper body before asking you to stand up, offering his hand to you to use for balance. Along with the soap he bought for you, he also got a short bristled comb for your fur.
He kept his hand up for you, countering your pressure with a bit of his own so you felt steady while he began to lightly comb out the fur that started below your navel. What was once a dingy grey was now the cutest white fur on your belly and on the inside of your thighs, it was even on your butt and the underside of your tail.
While combing out your soggy fur, Leon had started to grow curious. All the other hybrids were just naked humans with a few specific animalistic features, yet your entire lower body was just goat.
He slowly spun you around at some point to comb your backside. "I need both my hands for this, love. Can you put your hands on the edge of the tub for me?"
You were reluctant to let go of his hand but agreed anyways, shakily placing your hands on the slippery white porcelain. It bent you over just slightly, which is what Leon needed to reach the rest of everything.
Unbeknownst to both you and Leon, your tail was quite sensitive at the base. He paused at the small gasp you let out when he grabbed your tail, giving you a worried look. "Are you okay? Did that hurt?"
"Uh-.. oh uh.. no it didn't hurt..." You weren't quite sure how to respond. That was a new feeling. It didn't hurt, though, that you knew.
Leon rationalized the reaction as him just startling you with the sudden grab. But then your tail wiggled faintly in his grasp as he slowly began to comb out your fur again, only leading him to wonder further.
He'd get the fur on the lower end of your legs last since you had to balance more for that, but right now he needed to worry about the thick patch of fur covering your genitals. Your little puckered hole was already on display for him which definitely didn't have him half-hard in his jeans since he had to lift your tail to comb the fur around it and you didn't seem too bothered by the exposure.
He let go of your tail, which stayed up, to pour another cup of water over your furry backside after noticing you begin to shiver, moving his hands lower to part the fur covering your pussy so he could comb that out as well. Unfortunately was a bit more tangled down there, probably due to the movement of your legs, and with it being denser fur, Leon had to take extra precaution when getting the tangles out.
He wasn't complaining though, your cute little pussy was definite eye-candy to the man. The bath was an easy excuse to touch it a bit, running the tip of his index finger through your folds a couple times before refocusing on detangling the fur around it. The little gasp you made mimicked the one you let out when he grabbed your tail. Interesting.
"Mr- uh.. Mr. Kennedy?" His eyes slowly drifted up to your face, noticing you were looking back at him from over your shoulder. "Don't worry, we're almost done, okay? You were pretty tangled down here, didn't wanna hurt ya."
Leon's words eased you some, finally letting your tail rest against your ass again as he moved down to the backs of your thighs. Not wanting to keep you in the cooling water much longer, the man hurried the rest of the bath up before rising you off with a detachable shower head.
It was amazing to him just how much water you held onto. He had to squeeze out the entirely of your legs, your tail, even your ears before he could wring out your hair. Seeing your perky nipples made it worth his while, however.
By now you were a shivering mess wrapped in two towels, standing on the rug as you would for sure slip on the tile when you were dripping water like this. Leon was so nice to you, setting up a small desktop space heater he had bought some years ago for you in front of your cage. He even carried you downstairs to the carpet.
The second the towels were taken from you, you immediately began to shake off the water, causing Leon to laugh.
"Hey, hey!" He held up the towels in front of his body as protection from your misting, laugh falling to a giggle when your tail vigorously wiggled. "Didn't know I took home a sprinkler system."
"Sorry-" You were still shaking off when you started to speak, so you waiting until you were done to continue talking. "Sorry, Mr. Kennedy. It's habit."
He folded the towel and draped it over his arm before patting your head. "Nah don't worry about it, sugar."
You leaned up into his touch, letting out a giggle of your own as he hooked a finger around the curl of your horn to move your head side to side playfully.
It was, again, surprising just how quickly you warmed up to the man. After you were mostly dried off from sitting in front of the small space heater, you started to follow Leon around as he moved about the house. Though you stopped on the edge of the carpet whenever he walked into the kitchen, he'll have to get some rugs for you, you were close behind him everywhere else.
Leon took a week off of work to allow you time to fully get to know your surroundings. He could more than afford the time off and it was nice to have a mini vacation away from work. Besides, you were fun to watch.
Just like he'd wanted, you were mostly self-sustainable, able to get your own food and go to the bathroom once he added rugs to tiled areas. He also bought a couple step-stools that had rails you could hold onto, one placed in the kitchen so you could move it about and the other in the master bathroom for you to reach the sink.
Leon did also buy a couple indoor cameras to keep an eye on you when he went back to work. You quickly learned where they were so you could ask him questions throughout the day seeing as he could talk through the camera back to you. You always made sure to ask if you could have a specific snack to eat, sometimes even telling him where you were going in the house if there wasn't a camera able to see you.
A few months in had lead to a very comfortable routine between you two; Leon would leave before you were awake, come home around 6-7pm, you would come running from wherever you were to hug his waist, he would make dinner while you two talked, the both of you would sit on the couch and watch a movie if it was a day he didn't come home exhausted, you and him would go to bed, and the cycle would repeat. At some point you even started sleeping in his bed with him, curling up towards the foot end of the bed next to his legs.
The weekends were spent going on walks to exercise your legs. You liked climbing and jumping around on big rocks, so hiking was always a good option. He also spent extra time cuddling you, massaging your little legs, playing with the split in your hooves, even experimenting with a gentle tug on your tail every so often. You always got so embarrassed with his teasing, it made him laugh.
When Leon had to leave for a mission, he would have Chris come and stay at his place. You didn't like this at first, it threw off the delicate balance between you and Leon, but just like with everything else, you settled after the first couple times he had to go on a mission. You were never told the nature of his missions, he didn't want you to worry or be upset if he never came back. This also kept you decently happy when he was away.
You really bonded with Leon and he bonded with you. How could he not? You were adorable.
As previously mentioned, you would always come running to greet him when he got home from work, which is why he was a little off-put not seeing you after getting home one day. It was the middle of the week and it had been a normal working day. You seemed alright on the cameras a few hours ago, having told him before he went on lunch that you were going to take a nap on his bed. It's been longer than your normal naps, so he was hoping you didn't get stuck somewhere and hurt yourself.
"I'm home, little lamb! Where are ya?" Leon yelled out, pausing to listen for any sign of movement before making his way back to his bedroom, but not before giving the guest bathroom and bedroom a quick glance on the way.
You had obviously been on his bed, given the sheets were all messed up, but where the hell were you?
It wasn't until he strode into his bathroom that he noticed his tall laundry basket was tipped over, some clothes pushed out the top which held the attached lid open a crack. He knelt down on one knee and knocked on the lid with his knuckle before lifting the lid up, eyes landing on you curled up in the bottom. Your eyes met his and you frowned, ears lowered as you turned your eyes down.
"Hey kiddo, what're ya doing in there?" Leon made sure his voice was anything but accusatory. "Did you get stuck?"
He glanced up a bit to make sure your horn wasn't hooked in one of the holes, and it wasn't.
"No..." You muttered, pulling one of his dirty shirts over your face. Oh now you were hiding from him, that won't do.
"C'mon, out with ya." His voice was gravelly as he lifted the lid up all the way and reached in, putting his hands under your armpits to pull you out along with the shirt you kept in front of your face. He held you so you were sitting on his forearm snuggled up to his stomach, reaching a hand up to pull the shirt away from you before tucking his other arm underneath your fluffy butt.
The position had you at eye level with him. He noticed your face was a little flushed, so he reached a hand back and pressed the back of it to your forehead. You didn't have a fever, that's good at least.
"You gonna tell me what's up?" Leon asked, scoffing playfully when you shook your head no and covered your face with your arms. "You'll be mad at me."
Leon's eyebrows furrowed with concern, carefully peeling your arms away from your face so you could look at him. "I would never get mad at you. You know that." He whispered, moving his hand around to support your back, thumbing rubbing soothingly at your skin.
It was true, he'd never gotten mad at you before. But this was different, you felt different. You were acting different and you didn't know why. You couldn't explain to him what was wrong even if you wanted to.
The dejected look that fell across your face as you averted your gaze was telling enough. He couldn't drag that information out of you, but he could hopefully make you feel better in the meantime.
Leon smiled and leaned forward to kiss your forehead, beginning the short walk back to the bed as he muttered against your skin. "Ya hungry? You've been back here awhile.."
He felt you nod, smiling as he gently placed you down on the bed. "Lay down and I'll bring you a snack. I'll even lay with you."
Your tummy fluttered at the idea of Leon cuddling with you, so you nodded again, much more enthusiastically this time. Your tail was wagging when he returned, quickly moving to press up to his side when he sat down next to you on the bed and handed you a sliced apple and some water.
It was little things like the laundry that Leon began to notice more and more over the next couple weeks. He would come home and have to go on what was essentially a hunt to find you because your cute ass was always hiding somewhere different; under his bed, in his closet, in the laundry basket again, and even right by the front door, somehow managing to pull down a couple of his jackets from the coat rack and make a little nest to curl up in.
Leon asked Chris about it one day at work while watching you pace around in the living room from one of the cameras, worried there was some lack of enrichment that he was somehow failing to provide. You were so happy before, but now you were right back to being the same anxious mess he saw at the adoption center all those months ago.
"You should call and ask that lady. She might know something." Chris shrugged, taking a sip from a can of soda. "I don't know much about goat hybrids, let alone females hybrids." He huffed out through his nose with a smile, but Leon only tightened his lips in response. Chris did have a point though, it could be something to do with your specific breed and gender.
Once Leon got home, he quickly found you with some of his dirty clothes under the bed again before giving the old lady at the adoption center at the call. The one thought he was avoiding was the possibility of you being sick to some degree. You were part prey animal, and those types of animals tended to hide their sickness. He learned this from trying to research what was wrong with you himself.
He stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind himself. You would sometimes skitter off to hide somewhere else after he'd already found you once that day, so he didn't want you disappearing while he was on the phone.
It was hard for Leon to explain over the phone what you'd been doing, but once he mentioned you making a nest out of his jackets did the lady know what the problem was. You were going into heat soon.
"Heat? The hell is that?" He scratched the side of his face, turning to look at the bedroom door to make sure it was still closed. Having that whole ordeal explained to him had him running a slow hand down the entirety of his face. Guess they can kick in for farm hybrids anywhere between 21-28 years old.
Of course. You were a girl. He really should've known all this when he first got you.
He had to help you manage it too. From what the lady said, you'd be a complete mess soon since you'd already been acting strange like that for a couple weeks now.
However, Leon wasn't completely opposed to the idea of *helping* you. In fact, he was a bit excited at the prospect of getting to explore you a bit more intimately. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he liked you. Liked you. Always so cute bounding around the house, snuggling up to him at night, giving him little pecks on his cheek when he picked you up. You were so hard to resist.
Not to mention that he couldn't keep his hands from straying whenever he helped you bathe. He would spread your pussy lips apart and use the excuse of making sure everything was clean to get a better view. Your little ass wasn't any safer with his thumb rubbing circles on it whenever he had to hold your tail up. You made the most precious noises when he touched you.
Alright, he could do this. Helping you with your heat seemed easy enough. All he needed to do was just take a week or two off of work again to tend to your needs. He definitely wasn't going to turn down getting to spend extra time with you. His little lamb.
About three days into his time off from work was when your heat fully started to kick in. You woke up in the middle of the panting, sweating, and restless, helping yourself out of the bed and down the stairs into the kitchen to drink some water. It helped for a short period, but when you woke up again, you were laying in a small wet puddle on the bed.
You started to cry because you thought you'd wet yourself, waking Leon in the process. He seemed confused, trying to make out what you were babbling about until you pulled the blankets back. Seeing the puddle made you cry more and Leon had to reassure you multiple times that everything was alright.
He sat up with his back up against the headboard and pulled you onto his lap, letting you weep into his bare chest. You were clearly a bit more emotional than usual, but Leon didn't mind, especially when he could feel a small wet spot forming on his boxers from you. He just whispered sweet nothings to you while rubbing your back, silently relishing in the feeling of your wet little cunt pressing on him.
Leon kept you up on his chest even once you calmed down, explaining your predicament the same way to you as the old lady had explained to him over the phone, faintly ghosting his fingers over the wet fur surrounding your crotch all the while.
He occasionally moved his hand around to pet and squeeze your fluffy ass cheeks, rub his thumb over your asshole again, or to stroke your tail, gauging your reactions. More emotional, even more sensitive.
You sighed and gasped at every touch, eyes having closed at some point during his explanation. Leon seemed to understand what was going on with you, so you didn't see much reason to worry. He'd make sure you were okay.
"You just need a little extra loving this week. That seem okay?" Leon hummed when you nodded, bringing his hand back down to part the fur covering your pussy. "Good. Who doesn't want some extra love, right?"
You jolted a bit when his index finger began to run up and down through your dripping folds, only relaxing again once his other hand came up to rub between your shoulder blades. "Easy, girl, easy..."
Your legs naturally parted further for him, tail staying lifted. "That feel good, little lamb?" Leon whispered, adding his middle finger to continue stroking your folds when you gave him a small moan in response.
"Yeah it does.. yeah..." A groan rumbled deep in Leon's chest, rubbing the tips of his fingers over your slit as slick consistently leaked from it. It had already started to drip down past your clit, saturating the fur on your stomach before eventually dripping onto his boxers, right above his bulge. It was wet from before, but feeling the new spot form was driving him insane.
Despite not being able to see it, the man spread your outer lips apart. He groaned when you whined and lifted your hips slightly, eyebrows furrowing again when your tail wagged a couple times.
"You like that?" Leon breathed out a low chuckle as he moved his fingers down to stroke your wet clit. "Like when Mr. Kennedy plays with you like this?"
"I-oh-.. yes, sir.." Leon paused to pull you up a bit further on his chest to kiss you, fingers quickly returning to massage your clit. You didn't quite know how to kiss back, so you just did your best to follow his lead. The kisses on your lips made you feel warmer than you already were.
His free hand had moved down your back to your tail, grabbing it firmly to so he could lightly tug on it. Your moans only increased in volume at that, panting with your lips still pressed on his. You were steadily leaking now, the combined feeling of his fingers on your clit while he stroked your tail causing you to gush. His fingers and the top of his palm were completely drenched.
"Such a good girl~..." Leon sighed, moving his fingers off your clit so he could pet the fur around your pussy. "You're so soft here, baby.."
You'd been blushing already, but his sweet words were only making it worse. Your pussy was aching now, hips jerking back subconsciously for his touch.
"Hmm? What is it, sugar?" He knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear your delicate voice again. "P-please-.. keep playing with me, Mr. Kennedy..."
Oh, you were just darling. "Atta girl, using your big girl words.." Leon smirked, moving his index and middle fingers back to rub your clit. Your head was growing foggy now, face buried in the juncture of his neck to breathe in his scent. It was so strong there, musky and warm, reminded you of cinnamon.
He dipped his middle finger into your wet hole down to the first knuckle accompanied by a particularly rough tug to your tail, pulling a squeal from you in the process.
"I know, oh, I know~..." Leon cooed quietly into your right ear. His hot breath tickled, making your ear flick forward. "You're so tight, baby.. Squeezing around my big finger..."
He slowly sunk his finger into you further. Your legs were trembling on either side of his waist, small hands grasping onto his pecs as breathy moans and whimpers poured from your lips. Once he curled his finger, you came, whole body shaking as you let out a cry.
Such a pretty sight for Leon, watching you drool onto his chest, all dumb from just a finger. He could get used to this.
With lots of encouraging words and caresses to your tail he was eventually able to get two fingers into you, pumping them in and out of you, curling them every so often just to hear you whine for him.
The fullness was so new to you, and with the man filling your senses combined with the sensitivity your heat provided, it wasn't long before you were clamping down on his fingers again, cumming for the second time with a weak gasp that fell into whimpering and panting.
"There ya go.. easy, girl.." Leon moved his hand away from your tail to push your ear closer to his lips, kissing the soft inside as he whispered into it. He carefully removed his fingers from you to bring into his mouth, swapping his hands so the other was now flat on your lower back. Your slick tasted so sweet, like honey on his tongue. He'll be tasting more of that later.
He planted one last kiss to your lips before shifting down on the bed so he could lay back down, arms tightly wrapped around you as he rolled onto his side.
You fell asleep in no time, the sound of Leon's steady heartbeat soothing your fast one back to a regular pace.
You must've been feeling the effects of your heat come the next morning, considering you slept until the late afternoon. You just seemed more fatigued, totally understandable.
Before you'd woken up, Leon managed to do a bit more research of his own. He wanted to stay informed on how this whole heat thing would go, taking note of the various effects; hypersensitivity to touch and sound, fatigue, cravings, increased libido, lactation?, clinginess, flushed skin, and that excessive slick would last throughout the whole heat. Everything else would come and go in waves, apparently.
He was sitting on the couch, phone in his hands when you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing at your eyes with a small yawn. Without saying a word, you walked over and stood in front of his legs up. Leon could only smile as you crawled up onto his lap, pushing yourself underneath his arms.
You had your back flush against him, leaning your head back so it was resting between his pecs. Thankfully your horns were short enough that they didn't poke him.
Your furry legs were parted around his, arms hanging loosely at your sides with your tail tucked beneath your butt. There, you fell asleep again.
The man placed one hand on your leg to play with your soft fur, turning his attention back to his phone as he continued to read. Soon he was looking down at you, an idea in mind. He shook your leg a bit to see if you would wake up and you didn't even stir. Fantastic.
Smirking, Leon opened the camera on his phone and flipped it so it was front-facing. He'd gotten pictures of you in the past, usually more candid photos of you cuddling with him, but nothing like this.
He moved his hand from your leg to your crotch, parting the fur with his fingers to reveal your still dripping pussy. It was always nice to look at the cute pictures he'd gotten of you when he's at work or on a mission, so what's the harm in getting just a few more? He already knew he'd be missing this when he had to return to work.
Leon made sure to get the wet spot you were forming on his sweatpants in view, taking some pictures with and without his fingers caressing your glistening folds. He brought the phone up to give the photos a good look, smirk widening before bringing it back down to focus more on your breasts.
Lactation. They did seem a bit more pronounced than usual. Taking a simple video wouldn't hurt, right?
Once pressing record, Leon rubbed his free hand across your chest, gently massaging one breast at a time. He circled his index finger around one of your nipples before giving it an experimental pinch, his breath hitching when couple droplets of milk beaded from it. Oh wow.
He massaged the one breast a bit more firmly before moving to pinch your nipple again, groaning to himself as a few more droplets beaded and collected on his thumb.
Leon placed the phone down after ending the recording, hurriedly placing both hands on your breasts as he began to massage both of them a bit more firmly. Pinching both your nipples made you whimper in your sleep, though he barely registered it when his eyes were flooded with the sight of more milk droplets falling onto his fingers.
Jesus, thats amazing. He swallowed dryly, only continuing for a minute more until deciding to give your probably very sensitive breasts a break and let you sleep.
You woke up when Leon had to move you off of his lap, whining as you watched him stand up from the couch. "I'll be right back, little lamb." He shushed you, placing you on your side with your head on one of the plush decorative pillows. He needed to take care of his hard-on before he exploded and he can't really do that with your hot and wet little cunt pressing right on it.
The rest of the day was spent with Leon holding you up with one arm while he did chores, your head on his shoulder. You whined and complained and cried until he picked you up, wanting to stay as close as possible to the man.
Something about your heat must kick in at night because you were more awake after the sun had set, clinging to Leon like your life depended on it. You didn't understand, but something in you ached, you *needed* him. It was hard convey, so you just went back to whining and complaining as he got ready for bed.
"Baby, you gotta let me brush my teeth I-" he was cut off when you suddenly fondled him through his sweatpants. His scent was strong down here, you really liked it. The man spit into the sink before reaching down to place a firm hand atop your head. "Hey hey, careful with the equipment."
You giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist, the side of your face squished against his stomach with your tail wagging happily. He hummed and finished brushing his teeth. "Alright, go and hop in bed. Go on." He shooed you away with a playful grin, giving your ass a gentle smack when you turned to trot off.
Reaching around, you rubbed over the spot where he smacked your butt, looking over your shoulder at him for a brief moment. It made your tummy flutter like before.
You crawled into the bed and watched the bathroom door until Leon walked out, smile immediately returning as he walked over to his side of the bed. He got in next to you and sighed, laying with his arms behind his head. His eyes were closed but he could just tell you were leaning over him.
"What's up, love?" Leon hummed, peaking one eye open to look up at you. You weren't tired, you were achey. You can't sleep when you were achey. "D'ya need somethin'?"
You thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes-.. yeah.."
"Whaddya need then? You know how to use your words." Leon closed the one eye, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt you move to sit on his chest.
"Will you-... uh.. will you play with me again, Mr. Kennedy?" He could feel your tail wagging, soft white fur rubbing side to side across his skin.
He raised an eyebrow, yet his eyes remained closed. "Ask nicely, sugar."
You groaned, eyebrows furrowing with frustration. You wanted him to look at you but his eyes were closed, now he was making you repeat yourself. So mean. "Please, Mr. Kennedy..."
"Please what?" Leon's laugh only frustrated you more, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you struggled to think. "Please play with me!"
Noticing your shaky tone, Leon opened one eye again, smirk falling to a kind smile. "Okay, alright, don't get your panties in a bunch."
"...my what?" You sniffled, blinking away your tears as he sat up onto his elbows. "Don't worry about it. Can you hop off for just a second, sweets?"
You nodded and slid off to the right, watching him shimmy off his sweatpants, left fully naked with a semi. He rolled onto his side and moved closer to you, pressing his hand to your chest to gently guide you to lay down.
"I'll play with ya real nice.." He grunted, watching your legs part for him as he slotted his head between them. He was craving the taste of that honey-sweet slick on his tongue, and after placing his left hand around the inside of your thigh, right hand spreading you open, he dove in.
Not wanting to waste a single second, he began to greedily lap at your folds, moaning in tandem with you as he swallowed every drop of slick you were oh so graciously offering to him. Your soft fur tickling his face was the last thing he was thinking about, tongue tracing every perfect inch of your cunt.
Your moans and gasps were music to his ears, chuckling into your cunt as he looked up to your face. So blissed out already. You'd be the death of him, though he'd die a happy man.
Leon wrapped his lips around your clit, swirling his tongue around it as he gently sucked. You were wiggling a lot, you needed to stay still.
Pulling away with a growl, he sat up on his knees and grabbed both your ankles with his hand. He lifted them up so your ass was lifted slightly from the bed before diving back down into your cunt. That was way better.
While his right hand held your legs up, his left hand wandered down to your puckered hole, occasionally dipping the tip of his thumb into it following a few circles around the rim. It was already wet enough from the mixture of your slick and his spit. Plus, it was right there just waiting to be toyed with.
His cock was throbbing for you, desperate to feel your tight, silky walls wrapped around him. He pulled his mouth away from you after a minute with a gravelly laugh, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of you with your legs held up, crossed at the ankles, along with your weeping pussy.
He was smart enough to leave his phone close by on the nightstand, so he was able to reach over and grab it without jostling you too much. This picture was going in his wallet, that's for sure.
"Mr. Kennedyyy..." you whined, weakly attempting to pull your legs from his grasp.
"Relax," Leon tapped the bottom of your hooves with his thumb before slowly letting your legs fall back to the bed. "Mr. Kennedy just wanted to savor the view."
He sat up against the headboard, patting his lap with a smile. It took you a second to recollect yourself enough to crawl onto him, Leon helping you by offering a hand for you to balance with.
"Perfect, riiiight there.." He sat you just right so his dick settled into the part in your fur that he made, then placing his hands on the point of your hips to begin leisurely grinding you down on him. The wet shlick from his dick gliding through your folds was absolutely divine. He had to keep himself from plunging into you.
"Pl-ease, sir..." you brokenly whined as his tip caught your clit, causing you to jerk your hips forward.
"No need to beg, my lamb. You'll get just what you need.." He moved one hand to grab your bicep to help keep you lifted up as he positioned his cock at your hole. "I'll be so careful, as gentle as I can..."
Your face contorted in a silent cry as he began to push you down onto him, rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "You're doing so well, sugar" He grunted, "my big, strong girl~.."
Leon was so careful, just like he promised you, giving you all the time you needed to adjust and stretch to his length. Your eyes were shut tight, ears pressed back against your head as you whimpered. He made you feel so full, it really did satisfied that achey feeling you had.
"God that's so hot.." The man whispered to himself, grabbing his phone again to take a picture of the obvious bulge in your tummy from his cock, putting his hand next to it for reference. He moved his hand over it and pressed gently, listening to your drawn out whimper.
"Oh I bet you're- fuck- just loving that, huh baby girl?" Leon growled at the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, slick started to leak down his shaft and to his balls.
Wanting to give you a bit more time, he started to grind you on him again. "Gah- noo, too- ngh~.. too full, Mr. Kennedy.."
"Yeah?" Leon purred, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip as he watched your face. "Too full?"
You nodded with a whimpered out "yes", hands clenched in fists at your sides, unsure of where to put them.
"But you're making Mr. Kennedy feel so good, sweetheart.." He barely lifted you up before letting you slide back down to the base, hands hovering close to your waist.
"...yeah..?" You panted, body starting tremble with adrenaline, nipples perked up. "Soooo good.." Leon responded, hunching over to pull one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands flew to his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you gasped.
The man growled again at the taste of what little milk he got, furrowing his brow as he started to lift you up and down on his cock by holding onto your sides.
Your pussy squelched and dripped around his cock, dragging moan after moan from your beautiful lips. All he could do was focus on bouncing you now, leaning back to watch his cock disappear into your fur-covered cunt each time he dropped you down onto it.
He almost laughed when he saw your ears bouncing with you, but he didn't want to make you feel embarrassed. No, he'll save that for later when he shows Chris the pretty pictures and video he took of you.
Your walls quivered and clenched around him, tip bumping into your cervix, leaving him grunting as he neared his own high. Pulling out was going to be a difficult task, you cradled his cock so well.
He couldn't get you pregnant, right? No, surely not.
"Mr- ah! Mr. Kennedy..!" Your voice warbled, crying out for him as your tensed up with your orgasm.
"Oh shit.. yeah, yeahhhhh~..." Leon let out a strained groan as you tightened around him like a vice, rutting into you a few more times before spilling his load.
Most of it spilled out and around his cock since he continued to bounce you shallowly on it for a few seconds longer.
You breathed heavily as you tried to catch your breath, leaning forward to fall against his chest with a whine.
The two of you sat for awhile, Leon just soaking in the euphoria of it all. Soon, he delicately lifted you off and laid you next to him, brushing a couple stray strands of hair from your sweaty forehead.
He cleaned you off, but not before getting one last picture of your spent cunt dripping with his cum.
The man'll wait until tomorrow morning to get you in the shower with him. For now, he'll just pull you closer to him, pet the back of your hair while you sleep.
There's still about a week more of this heat of yours, then he'll have to head back to work. He'd stay home forever if it meant taking care of you.
Thinking back, that old lady from the adoption center was right. You did end up being the perfect little lap pet.
821 notes · View notes
happy74827 · 28 days
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The Lesson of Reality
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[Rick Grimes and Child!Reader]
Synopsis: You accidentally get a lot more “experience” than what Rick had planned.
WC: 3080
Category: Slight Angst, S6!Rick (no TOWL spoilers) {TW — Gore, Violence, Walkers, Blood, Death}
There’s so many fics about Daryl being a father figure that it’s about time that Rick had his Joel Miller moment (especially now that all the episodes of The Ones Who Live have aired). So have fun with this cute Protective!Rick moment.
『••✎••』
They say when times are tough, people can rise to the occasion and show their true colors. For some, it's an opportunity to prove they can survive the hardships and come out the other side stronger, wiser, and more experienced. Then there is the scum of the earth. They will take any opportunity to steal, kill, and hurt others while they try and make it out unscathed.
For Rick, he wanted you to be part of the former. He always saw your potential to become a fighter—a survivor. Hell, you made it this long by yourself, after all. You had to learn and adapt to the world.
And given your age, it was a hard thing to accomplish.
Your innocence didn't help, either. On one hand, he wanted to keep you as innocent and childlike as possible for as long as he could. The world was already a shit-show. The least you could do was still have the mentality of the child you were supposed to be. Being only ten years old, it was the right thing to do.
But then he remembers what the world was like now. If he let you live with that naivety, it'd get you killed. And it didn’t matter how intelligent you were because even if it saved your ass a few times, it won’t forever.
The fact of the matter is you were going to be hurt no matter what. And you had to be prepared for it.
He had already shown his own son, Carl, the harshness of the new world. He didn't want to do it, but the world left him no choice. And he couldn't deny the boy the means to defend himself and his family.
And even if you weren’t his kid, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do the same for you.
He just needed the right time to teach you… to remind you that Alexandria isn’t the safest place on the planet.
The perfect time came when the Wolves attacked the group, and the gates were broken down.
After all the tragedy and loss, and Alexandria started to rebuild and strengthen their walls once again, Rick decided then was the time to toughen you up.
And thus, there you were, sitting on a tree stump as Rick stood in front of you, knife in hand, and Daryl beside him.
Eugene was also there, but he was standing to the side, watching with mild curiosity.
“You sure ‘bout this?” Daryl asked, looking from you to Rick, brows furrowed in concern. “It’s good takin' 'em outside the walls, but now? After everything that just happened, I mean? The people need yah right now, man. And the last thing we need is for the lil' squirt here to get hurt, too. Yer already lookin' rough as it is."
"I'll be fine, Daryl," Rick replied, his eyes not leaving yours. “Besides, I won’t be gone long. It’s just a quick look around. In and out, and then I'll be back. Two days, tops.”
Everyone around you seemed to be on edge, with the attack on the walls still fresh in their minds. But you?
Well, you were too busy staring at the shiny, shiny knife. Excitement shone in your eyes as your fingers twitched.
Truth be told, ever since Daryl and Aaron found you alone, wandering the woods and eating raw squirrel, and brought you to Alexandria, you felt as if something was missing.
You had never been the most social kid. You had the bare minimum amount of friends at school. None of them stuck around after you were pulled out of school. You had no close relatives that wanted you around. No father figure and the only motherly presence in your life was gone before you understood the new reality.
And while there were other kids in Alexandria, the older ones were already too busy trying to act like adults, and the younger ones were too immature. Sam, the kid that had once been closest to your age, was just a crybaby who didn’t know any better. He was scared of the dark and the idea of a walker. He never went outside the walls, so it was no wonder.
It was like living in a house full of strangers. They were all kind to you, but there was something missing.
But the Grimes family? Well, you couldn't help but feel more comfortable around them. Carl didn’t seem to like you, at least not at first, but ever since the “Wolves” attack and sudden loss of his eye, he was becoming nicer.
And then there was Rick. He was always kind, but after the incident, he became even kinder. More attentive and caring. Always checking on you, making sure you were safe and comfortable. Something about that night must've really changed him because he's been different since then.
And you liked it. You felt more comfortable around him. You didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because he had saved you from a walker, or perhaps it was the way he talked to you, but you enjoyed his company.
You also loved destroying him in Gin Rummy. With the mix of his shocked expression and Michonne’s laughter, it was priceless.
Rick looked back at Daryl, who was still giving him a doubtful expression. But it wasn’t a no. So, Rick took it as a sign of agreement.
Daryl huffed and put a hand on his hip, shifting his weight to his right side. "Alright, alright. But if somethin' goes wrong, I won’t hesitate to tell ya I told ya so, yah hear me?”
Rick snorted. "Wouldn’t expect any less from you."
Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head, a smirk on his lips. He gave you one more glance, and then he turned and left.
With that out of the way, Rick focused on the task at hand. That’s when Eugene made his presence known. He was the man with the map, so to speak.
He came over and laid the map of the area on the ground in front of you.
"I've marked the areas of the woods I believe would be best suited for your scavenging mission. However, should your route take a turn, there are several alternate routes to get back. There are also a few marked areas with potential food sources, water, and the possibility of tools or other survival necessities.
"Thank you, Eugene. I appreciate this," Rick said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. Eugene smiled and nodded.
"You're welcome, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, Rosita and I have an appointment at the gate to inspect and repair the damaged panels.” Eugene stood up and straightened his clothes, and then he was gone, heading back to the gate.
"Ready?" Rick asked. You looked up at him, smiling, and gave a nod. Soon, you were off into the rusty car that Daryl had brought from outside the walls.
You sat in the back seat, along with the bags semi-full of supplies and some extra weapons. Most of them belonged to Rick, however, so all you had was your old baseball cap.
And, of course, the old switchblade that Daryl gave you a while back.
For most of the scavenge trip, it was peaceful. The occasional walker showed up here and there, but for the most part, they were few and far between.
You found a lot of supplies. Food, medicine, clothes, and anything else you could think of. Rick also made sure to teach you how to pick locks, avoid traps, and a bunch of other skills.
But, of course, as things go, something has to go wrong.
A group of walkers, about twenty or so, showed up. It was no big deal. It was a lot, but nothing you couldn't handle.
You and Rick quickly got to work, taking them out one by one. You had gotten good with your knife, and with some pointers from Rick, you were practically a pro.
And then there was Rick, swinging his machete, stabbing and slashing his way through the herd. His face was a mix of focus and calm. It was impressive.
But the problem wasn’t the walkers. You were both doing fine. The problem was the aftermath. When the last walker fell to your feet, a gun rose and pointed at Rick's head.
And the guy holding the gun? Well, he looked like a psychopath. He had a smile that sent shivers down your spine, and it didn't help that the sun was starting to set.
"Hey there. Nice work taking out those rotters. But I'm going to have to ask you to hand over the bags and all the weapons you have. Oh, and I love that baseball cap. That'll be mine, too."
Well, Rick wanted you to toughen up. It seemed the universe had the same idea.
Somehow, you ended up behind Rick, shielded from the man and his gun. Your heart was pounding in your ears as the adrenaline kicked in. You didn't know what to do.
Rick didn't, either. Not when a group of armed men stepped out of the trees and aimed their guns at him. He didn't even have the time to reach for his machete.
Rick raised his hands, but his body was tense.
"Don't," was the only thing he said. His voice was stern, a growl hidden underneath. The man grinned and laughed.
"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you," the man sneered.
Suddenly, all of them charged forward, grabbing the two of you. Your cap was taken, and Rick's machete was tossed away.
Despite the stronghold, Rick was able to kick and punch his way through his attackers. Even with the gun being pointed at him and the man pulling the trigger, he still managed to dodge the bullet and throw a few more punches.
The man growled, but the smile didn't leave his face.
"Feisty, aren't you? I love a challenge."
With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the butt of the gun against Rick's temple, sending him to the ground.
"Rick!" You yelled but were cut off when someone grabbed you by the hair and pulled, eliciting a scream from you.
"What a cutie," the man purred, grabbing you by the chin. You tried to pull away, but he held tight.
"How old are you, huh? Six? Seven? Eh, it doesn't matter. All kids are the same. Little shits who don't know their place."
You took that as a sign. You spat in his face. He didn't even flinch. In fact, the smile only widened. It pissed you off so much that you did the one thing that would definitely take a smile off his face.
You saw it done once, with a foot. A woman back in Alexandria seemed upset with a man, and she took her boot and kicked him right where you aimed your switchblade.
You weren't sure if it was a good idea, but it was the only thing you could think of.
So you did. And let me tell you, that was one of the few times you had ever heard someone scream so loud. He dropped you in an instant, unfortunately taking the knife with him.
“Son of a-!! You little-!!” Pain and anger laced the man's words as he clutched himself. You scrambled back, watching with wide eyes as he slowly recovered.
He didn’t dare try to crawl over to you, though. He didn’t trust his body to move.
Instead, he turned his attention to his side, where his small pistol had been tossed. He reached over and picked it up, pointing the barrel in your direction.
“I was gonna be nice… maybe have a little fun, but now?” He let out a painful chuckle. The smile was still there, but it was laced with anger. He groaned in pain, and his body shook.
Still, his hands remained steady.
"You little shit. I outta blow your head off. Let the rotters tear you apart, limb from limb. Would serve you right.”
Rick's heart stopped at that. The gun was aimed at you, and he was too far away. Even if he charged, he wouldn't make it in time.
There was no other option.
Just as the man squinted his eyes, about to pull the trigger, the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. It made the man jump and look around, right in time to see one of his men fall to the ground.
"What the-?"
You turned and saw Rick tussling with another man, the one holding a gun, who was fighting for control.
The man who had his gun pointed at you took the opportunity to shoot it again, but you were prepared enough to duck out of the way.
The bullet went into a tree, and by the time the next one fired, he was the last one standing.
And boy, was he pissed. The bullet once again missed his target, but only barely.
That was enough, though. Just enough to get Rick to kick the gun out of his hands before pressing his boot right where your pocket knife was still sticking out.
Rick had the advantage, and it was obvious, with the screams of agony coming from the man. He was on his knees, clutching his crotch, and Rick had a firm hand on the back of his head, ready to bash his skull into the ground if need be.
But he didn't. He had other plans.
He pulled out your knife, only to stick it right back into place and then some.
"Ah! You crazy bas-!! Fuck!!"
"You’re going to listen to me. Real good, you’ hear?” Rick’s voice was dark, and the man nodded frantically.
"Grab his gun and come over here."
You did as you were told, picking up the pistol and slowly walking over. The man whimpered, tears staining his cheeks as blood seeped through his pants.
"You're gonna stand there and keep your gun pointed at his head while I tie his hands together. If he even twitches, shoot him."
You gulped but nodded. You kept your arms out, hands as steady as you could make them.
“You sick, twisted, fuckin' asshole. I'll fucking kill you!" The man snarled, his teeth gritting and his face contorted in pain.
"That's cute," Rick said. He was quick to tie the man's wrists together. Rick was just as quick to grab him and force him on his feet before kicking the back of his knees and sending him sprawling on the ground.
"Stay," Rick commanded him like a dog, and you couldn't help but smile a little at the man's pained, angry expression.
Rick quickly gathered the supplies and the bag, and then he was over to you, giving you a once-over.
"You hurt? Bleeding? Anything broken?"
"N-No, I'm okay," you replied, voice wavering a bit.
"Good," he breathed out, and you noticed he was shaking a bit, too. Not enough to notice at first glance, but enough to know that he was trying his hardest not to.
He took the gun from your hands gingerly, and then he was kneeling before the man.
"Who are you?"
The man was silent. Rick didn't wait long before aiming the gun at the man's right thigh.
"Let me rephrase that. Who are you? What's your name?"
"Fuck y—”
Rick shot the man in the thigh without any hesitation. The scream of pain made you jump.
"Try again. Who are you?"
"Aah!! Fuck!! I-I'm Dave, okay? My name's Dave!"
"Okay, Dave. Good. Now, why did you attack us? And don't think I'm above shooting you again, or worse, so be honest. I can tell when someone's lying to me."
"We were just passing through! Saw you and thought, 'Hey, easy pickings!' Didn't expect you to be the goddamn terminator!"
"Passing through to where?"
Silence. Rick sighed and shook his head, but before he could fire another shot, Dave finally caved.
"Back to c-camp. Please, we have family. Wives, children… We meant nothin' by it! We swear! We just-! We were hungry. We were starving! Please, have mercy!"
"Children? Like the one you just threatened to shoot in the head?" Rick growled. Dave flinched.
"N-no, I-"
“Where are they? Down that stream? I saw your tracks earlier. That was you, wasn’t it?"
Dave's silence spoke volumes. Rick looked back at you, and you were staring at the man, wide-eyed and fearful, not of him specifically, but of what Rick could do to him.
Rick took a deep breath and then turned back to Dave.
"How many are there?"
"T-Ten. Maybe eleven."
"Are they armed?"
"J-Just with knives and stuff."
"You got anything else? Any other guns or ammo?"
"N-No. Please, just let us go! We won't bother you again! Just don't hurt me."
Rick looked back at you again. Your eyes were still locked on the man, but you could feel his gaze. You looked up at him.
"With that stunt, you just pulled,” Rick stood up, his eyes still aligned with yours, but he wasn’t speaking to you. He was addressing Dave.
"I can’t take that chance.”
Then the bullet fired, and soon it was just you and Rick with a bunch of corpses.
He quickly holstered the gun and rushed to bags left on the ground.
"What about his family?” Your voice was shaken. You had never seen someone shot like that, point blank.
Rick sighed, pausing in his movements.
"They don’t exist.” Rick stood and turned, looking you in the eye. “I know people like him. If he had a family, they're already dead, or he killed them himself.”
You didn’t break eye contact, “and if you’re wrong? What then?"
Rick didn’t even blink. "Then I saved them a lot of suffering."
Rick didn't like doing this, killing people, taking life. He hated it, really.
But he would be damned if anyone ever laid a hand on his family or his people. Even if it meant getting a little bloody.
You had to turn away from him, from the intensity of his stare.
Rick sighed and walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"You did good back there. Really good. The world it’s… It ain't kind to people. And even though I hope it never happens, you have to be prepared for anything. For anyone."
Rick squeezed your shoulder, and his voice was gentle.
"And, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."
197 notes · View notes
jarofstyles · 8 months
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Indigo- Cobalt
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Hellooooo.. Here is part 3 to indigo! Hope you enjoy tattoorry. 
Warnings- tattoos, mention of needles, blood, brief mention of vomit, anxiety, you're going to want to eat harry
Check out our Patreon!
WC- 2.9k
-------
Y/N felt dizzy.
It wasn’t the prospect of getting a tattoo that was making her so nervous- it was the fact that Harry’s thigh was pressed right up against hers, his body angled towards her as he sketched on his ipad drawing program. He’d said he prefers pencil and paper but it was easier for this type of session to do it there. Faster. She had no input other than the fact that he smelled really fucking good and his leg was warm against her own.
She had indulged some information to him. First and foremost, she wanted a sunflower. A dainty little sunflower with a bit of shading and a longer stem that would go down a bit and twist near her wrist. Her plans for one day having a floral sleeve with her favorite flowers and the birth month flowers of her family had been shared, but she wanted to start off relatively simple with the first one. See how her body reacted, her healing time, all while leaving room if she liked it and wanted to continue with the sleeve.
Harry had been endeared and slightly impressed. It was rare that he got new clients anymore, as most were fairly covered by the time they got to him. However when he did do new clients back in the start, most didn’t have the extensive research she had done, nor the plan. He was all for going for what felt right, but Y/N had been specific and practical in her planning and it made him feel even more fond. She had taken the time to research not only the safety, but the importance of listening to artists suggestions and double checking the work.
It’d been a while since he had done a floral piece, but he was up for it. Truthfully, Y/N could have told him she wanted a rose skull with an infinity symbol in the eye socket and he would have done it for her, but he was relieved it was something that was relatively easy to perfect.
The man knew that he was a perfectionist when it came to his work. Harry didn’t do sloppy- at least not in his work. He kept clean, crisp lines and smooth shading, he did his best to keep any blowout from happening as much as he could on his own end, and he educated each client on the likelihood of the colors they chose longevity and when they’d probably need it touched up. His tattoos were for the clients, sure, but it was also a representation of his work. He was lucky enough now to have his choice on taking clients- there were plenty he turned away or handed off to other artists he thought could better suit them. His hard work had bled into the success he had wanted, leaving him the ability to be picky.
Normally he wouldn’t want to do a first time client because, well…  he really didn’t like doing them. First timers didn’t know what to expect the majority of the time, they didn’t know how to sit still, they would wince and move and complain far too much for Harry to feel at his best. He wasn’t judging them, but now that he had a choice he chose to keep to people who had at least one.
Y/N was the exception to the rule.
He felt honored that she would like his art on her, a bit of that primal satisfaction that it would be his too. No one else would have touched her with the needle, no one else had a shot at marking up her pretty, soft skin. It was a privilege, especially considering their origin.
“What do we think?” He murmured, showing her the second sketch with some of her notes. She hadn’t liked the thickness of the stem originally, and Harry had agreed it had been a bit too leafy so he had taken some off. “S’a bit thinner in the stem and I did a curve at the bottom so it’ll fit with the movement of your arm.”
“Moment of my arm?” She asked curiously, hitting him with a curious gaze. Harry had been extremely patient with her thus far and it made her nervous to ask for corrections, but he had told her that it was going to be on her forever and he needed it to be exactly what she wanted.
“Mhm. Where you’re putting it… The skin moves when you rotate your arm. S’why we don't usually put straight lines there, at least I don’t unless in specific situations. We want it to run smoothly regardless of which way your arm is positioned. So adding a bit of a curve in the stem would make it look straighter when you move it.” He showed the motion on his own arm so she could have an example.
“Oh. I never would have thought of that.” She blinked, watching as his arm moved. He had quite a few tattoos, some she had never been truly able to make out. Now being up so close, she had a front row seat to the anchor on his wrist and the cross on his hand, some of the little doodles that she had been so curious about. He seemed to have different styles of work and she liked that each one seemed to differ just a bit. “How many tattoos do you think you’ve done in your career?”
The question popped into her head out of nowhere but it still remained there. She was increasingly curious as to how he had gotten started, what he did and didn’t like doing. Pure thirst for the knowledge of what went through his head. He’d been a silent shadow most of the time she’d known him, so it was interesting to purely listen to him talk.
“Erm.. I’d say a couple hundred? There are some days I only work on one, some I do none, some days I can do three to four.” He paused, placing his apple pencil down, turning slightly to look at her. Their thighs pressed further together. “When I first started, I did a lot of flash sheets of shit that wasn’t my own. Think of, like, the pinterest stuff. Little hearts and stars, stuff on my mates, myself. They had me practice a ton when I was apprenticing but it made me good.” He brushed the hair out of his face. He really needed to find his hair clip. “Was frustrated at first, because I knew I could draw and stuff, but they were making me do those tiny things for basically no money- but, y’know, It’s harder than you’d think. Especially on someone who’s moving or someone who’s giggling with a bunch of their friends that they brought.”
“Is that why there was that sign out there?” Her face broke into a little grin, remembering the hand lettered sign before you went back to the rooms. ‘No children, No drinking, No plus threes’. “I find it hard to believe that people want to bring three people into the room with them.” That was inconsiderate. One? She could understand. That made sense if you were nervous. But multiple people just made it more crowded and loud. She’d rather be alone and deal with the experience being potentially awkward rather than make herself an inconvenient client.
His scoff took her by surprise, head tipping back in amusement. “Oh, they do. They did. Now it’s limited to one person in the room and you’ve got t’be over 18. Special allowances are made sometimes, but some of the places I worked at before starting my own place had no one enforcing or making those sorts of rules. It’s just unsafe. You’d be surprised how many drunk people come in demanding ink.” It was one of his least favorite clients. Drunk people tended to squirm and vomit, you know, besides getting a permanent image inked into the skin. That’s one thing he would never do again.
“Hm. Well it seems like you’re running a great place. I saw your stuff on instagram.” Her praise made him flush slightly, feeling a tiny bit shy as she continued. “And then the articles and awards you’ve got up front. It’s massively impressive. I’m surprised you’re tattooing me if I’m honest. She said up front I had virgin skin?” A head tilt at the end of her words reminded him of a puppy.
“Well, like I said. Special occasion.” He knocked his knee against hers in a playful attempt. “Just means no ink. Nothing nasty. I usually don’t do people with no ink because they can be twitchy and I can choose the pieces I do now. Usually I do more long and involved ones but, I’m more than happy to be doing yours.” His smile was a reassurance that he was more than happy to do it.
“Are you sure?” Y/N frowned slightly, suddenly feeling a little guilty. She didn’t want him to do a tattoo he didn’t want to do, or even more so do it on her just because he felt bad about the times before. “If you don’t want to do it, I’m happy to go to another artist in your shop-”
“No, I want to do it.” His voice was fast, interrupting hers without meaning to. It had rushed out without his permission, but the ugly twisting inside his gut had started at the mention of someone else doing this. She had wanted him, had planned on him, and if he was being honest? He was a bit selfish. His art was meant to go on people like Y/N. People who appreciated the art, who appreciated the skill. Add in his big fat crush, and it was not something he was going to pass up.
“O-Okay.” Y/N smiled, looking back down at her lap. His jeans were against her leg, and she couldn't stop thinking about how warm he was. How happy she was that he had chosen to sit with her on here instead of the armchair. A giddiness bubbled in her stomach as she felt his eyes on her, a hand coming down into her field of vision and gripping her knee. Her face felt hot, looking down at the fingers that curled over. It felt like she had been shocked at first, but moved into a warm glow.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
If she was any less strong, she would have squeaked. The large hand rested there, giving her leg a squeeze before he continued to speak.
“You ready to get some ink, then?”
—-------------
“You’ve had somethin’ to eat today, right?” Harry’s voice spoke to her as she sat in the red leather seat. His back was turned to her as he opened up a few drawers, grabbing what looked to be some sort of tape, vaseline, ink caps, different wrapped needles maybe? A blue liner sat over the tray, keeping it sanitary as he placed the supplies down. There was no reason to doubt he would be, but it only furthered her comfort.
“Yeah, I had a croissant and a pastry. Coffee too.” She peeped, hoping that would be good enough in his eyes.
With the way he turned in his chair, it wasn’t. “C’mon, babe. You’ve gotta eat better than that… but I can say m’glad you didn’t have a heavy meal a few minutes ago.” That would be a nightmare if she felt the need to spew. “Nothing with protein.. If you feel like you’re getting lightheaded, like you’re going to faint? Tell me immediately. This shouldn’t be too bad, all things considered, but there's no shame in taking a break.” He really didn’t mind it. That was much preferred over someone passing out on him.
“Okay. I’ll tell you.” Her eyes widened slightly but she avoided his eyes again, instead choosing to look at his hair. He’d found his hair clip when they’d walked in, saying something about having been looking for it for ages before gathering hair at the front of his face and clipping it back out of the way. He looked fucking adorable.
Tattoos, piercings and all, he looked adorable. Y/N had always thought he was handsome, hot, even, but his little smiles and concern for her had made her feel a little floaty and giggly and she needed to contain herself.
“Good girl.” His hand squeezed her leg again before turning around on the stool to finish unwrapping supplies.
If he heard her squeak, he didn’t let her know it.
They sat in a comfortable silence, the music hooked to his phone playing at a comfortable level as he did his thing. Y/N looked at his back, admiring the broad nature, his strong shoulders and how it strained slightly against his shirt. At this point, she was nearly positive she was just being extremely thirsty over the man who had always been a faraway object of desire- even if she had thought he hated her.
“Alright.” Harry returned, voice making Y/N jump slightly. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve got the stencil.” Holding it up, he let her take a look and smiled to himself as her eyes rounded and she smiled widely. It did that weird thing to his chest as she squirmed, sitting straighter as he approached with it. “Good? We can put it on in a moment. Just got t’prep you.”
“It’s so beautiful, Harry.” Her wispy voice nearly made him fall off his chair. He wished he wasn’t so weak, wished he wasn’t such a soft heart for her, that he could be a bit more suave, but when she spoke like that, looked at him like that, said his name like that? All he wanted to do was scream.
“M’glad you think so.” He replied gently, taking his seat. “Is it okay if I touch you? I need to adjust your arm.” Touching bare skin was a limit a surprising amount of people had- himself included. He usually preferred his bed partners keeping their hands to themselves, no matter how much they wanted to trace his ink. His actual partners, he enjoyed, but people didn’t have much of a sense of boundary sometimes.
“Yeah! Yeah, of course. You can do whatever you want to me.”
Dangerous fucking words, Harry thought. He couldn’t allow his thoughts to stray at the moment, so he decided to save that sweet tone and double meaning sentence to obsess over at a later time.
It didn’t take him too long, his fingers brushing over the skin as he shaved it to make sure the canvas was clear and prepped her for the stencil. Y/N was quiet, watching his concentration. He got a cute little thing between his brows as he focused on her, making sure the stencil was straight and where she wanted before laying it and pressing down.
When he peeled it away, she audibly gasped. “This is perfect.” Her voice went up in pitch. “It’s better than I imagined, H. Really. I love it.” Speaking like the ink was already in her skin, he flushed again as he placed the paper into the tray.
“You sure? Placement’s good?”
“Perfect. I like it right here.” She nodded, eyes not leaving the blue stain.
“Okay. We’re going to get started then, okay?” He pulled on a pair of fresh gloves, scooting himself and the station a bit closer to her. “We’re starting with the outlining, then we move to shading. It’s gonna be uncomfortable, mostly when I have to go over the lines again but we aren’t going to be too close to bone so It shouldn't be terrible.” He was doing his job now to mentally prepare her. “You can tell me if you need the bathroom or if you need to move at all. Everyone’s pain thresholds are different. Don’t feel embarrassed. I’m sure as hell not going to judge you.” His smile was reassuring as she looked a little nervous, but more so the excited type. It was easy to tell.
“I will tell you. Do you need me to stay quiet when you're tattooing? To keep focus? I don’t want to distract you.” Y/N questioned, big eyes looking at him with curiosity.
Anyone else? Anyone else in the entire world, he would tell them yes. He preferred a quiet environment to work, to get into the zone and truly concentrate. But there was no way in hell he was going to pass up an opportunity to hear her talk and babble. She had been so quiet around him before- rightfully so, considering she thought he would tell her to shut up- but he ached to just get a little bit closer. That yearning of his soft heart was pulsing, wishing to get to know her more. His brain was telling him to relax and be logical, but they both knew who would win out.
“Absolutely not, Sunflower. Chatter away.”
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bladeweaver-if · 9 months
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What would you be if the Order were to fall?
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Link to the demo: here
Orphaned at birth beneath the dim light of a new moon, your fate seems sealed.
In a stroke of luck, you are soon adopted by two Masters of the Bladeweavers' Order - an institution of elite warriors and weaponmasters as ancient as the very cities they are based in. When cataclysm strikes, the Order is left scattered and broken, and you are left aimless, without purpose in a hostile world.
In your search for it, what else will you find?
Bladeweaver is a text-based grimdark fantasy interactive fiction game developed in Twine, focusing on your customizable player character, The Bladeweaver, as they grow up and navigate their way through a crumbling world wreathed in esoteric magic, dark secrets and murky morals, loosely inspired by the late medieval/early Renaissance periods, with a heavy touch of fantasy/steampunk influence.
Grow from child to adult, learn unique skills and master a weapon of Empyrean steel, a unique metal with otherworldly properties. Make friends (or perhaps more?) and enemies along the way as societies rise and fall, as alliances strengthen and collapse, and loyalties are strained to their breaking point.
It won't be easy, but you might just soar. On wings of Empyrean.
Bladeweaver is a mature game with heavy themes and content, including but not limited to violence, strong language, possession, mental issues, drug use, kidnapping and abuse. Due to this, the game is only recommended for those over the age of 18.
Feel free to ask me questions about the game or characters if you want!
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Customize your character; their gender, physical appearance and relationships with the cast of characters are yours to change. Even the weapon you wield is yours to choose, with a selection of 6 options available.
Grow from a young child into adulthood in the safety of Sola, a floating city enwreathed in ancient magic. Your skills as a warrior are yours to develop.
Embark on a crushing, dangerous voyage across the fictional continent of Phanol, a land of debts and daggers.
Romance one of four characters, and develop intimate platonic bonds with any or all of them. Alternatively, shrug them off completely.
Discover your true purpose as the past and present merge when cataclysm strikes.
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You, variable pronouns - The Bladeweaver
Hours after you were born, your parents were slaughtered and, in a sequence of rare acts of kindness, you land in the care of two Bladeweavers: Callen Edros and Sonia Wierszy. The three of you make for an odd family of warriors, living in Sola, one of the twelve Risen Cities of the Gods. The relative peace you know will not last.
A blood-paved road lies ahead of you; a road you may choose to walk proudly, battling inner and outer demons alike.
Or, perhaps you might struggle, paving your own path in a world that will do its damndest to bestow you with the same fate as your long-forgotten forebears.
Will you lose yourself and the principles your adoptive parents instilled in you throughout your childhood? What else will you lose, or gain, on this road?
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Main characters:
Callen Edros, he/him - The Lonely Wolf
Tall, bulky and surprisingly quick-footed, Callen is a Bladeweaver Master of the poleaxe, a lethally versatile weapon.
His presence and weapon of choice are contrasted by his cheery, jovial attitude. He's an excellent teacher, and focuses on mastering discipline and one's fundamentals over all else. He is afforded a good deal of fame in the Order, partly due to his noble background - something he rarely speaks of - and is quite popular, even for a Bladeweaver.
Many who know the man would never have a bad word to say about him, but those close with Callen know there's a deep, enduring sadness behind his laughter.
He is one of your two adoptive parents.
Sonia Wierszy, she/her - The Rising Hawk
Leanly muscled and opting for a brutal combat style, Sonia is a Bladeweaver Master of the falchion, a single-edged blade made for strong chops over quick cuts or stabs.
Loyal, stubborn, brash, and just arrogant enough for some to find it charming, Sonia will often sneer in the face of propriety despite her love for the finer things in life.
Some would even say that her just being as she is, a woman rising through the ranks of an institution rife with men, is a challenge to the Order. Sonia takes glee in pushing boundaries, in proving herself capable and beyond, and expects a similar ambition from those she knows. As a teacher she is exacting, employing unorthodox methods to help find your special skills as a fighter.
It's not difficult for some to wonder if Sonia's coarse exterior is simply a front, obscuring a deep-seated rage and fear, sparked long ago.
She is one of your two adoptive parents.
???, he/him - The Cargo
He will accompany you on your journey across the land.
Four romantic or platonic options to choose from:
Samuel Alban, he/him - The Boy Next Door
Tall and lean with curly blonde hair, deep blue eyes and a giddy smile, Sam moves to the same street as you with his father when you're both children, hailing from the disrant but powerful Abrian Empire.
He's endlessly good at making new friends and seems to never lose energy.
Sam comes to struggle with knowing exactly what he wants from life. Will you simply be a friend to him, or will you catch his eye in a deeper way?
Caitlin Clary, she/her - The Inventor
Tall, intimidating and muscular, with ginger hair and vulnerable green eyes, Caitlin is a fellow student at the Bladeweavers' Academy, but she takes a keen interest in engineering and gadgets. You meet her in your first year, as she struggles with bullying from the other students.
At odds with what her culture expects from her, and feeling isolated in a strange place with only her elder brother for company, Cait is shy and closed off when she comes to Sola. She might appreciate a source of comfort during the tumultuous time.
Lucas del Varro, he/him - The Prodigy
Quick-footed and average-height, the black-haired, grey eyed third child of the prestigious del Varro family transfers to your academy in your third year. He's instantly popular, but seems to shrug off any and all affection, although he's not actively hostile to it.
He seems to be singularly focused on bettering his own skills under the weight of his family's scrutiny, and only accepts your presence if you prove to be a sufficient challenge to him. Will you step up to the call, or even exceed his expectations?
Talia Maren, she/her - The Bastard
Curvy and considered a great beauty yet sharp beyond her years, tales of Talia's venom and scheming follow her when she arrives in the city. She is the legitimised bastard daughter of Lord Darion Maren, a major player in the politics of the nation of Telfrin.
She is known to be constantly at odds with her so-called family, who quite publicly disagree with her ailing father's choice to claim her as part of his lineage, making her, as his eldest, heir to his estate. He had sired the girl before meeting his wife, in secret.
With few allies in her own home, she seeks them elsewhere. Talia wishes to claw her way to the top of the social heirarchy, willing to step over anyone who gets in her way.
Are you capable of standing the brunt of her vicious veneer? She can't be all thorns like she's purported to be, can she?
Find out more about each option by clicking on the link in their title.
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Current size of demo: 175k words
Genre: Grimdark fantasy
Last Update: 14/04/24 (Chapter 2 additions)
Discord server for game discussion and feedback: here
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goldentemplariumcrow · 8 months
Text
As a stationery and fountain pen affictionada...
This. Still. Makes. Me. Laugh.
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Let me explain why:
Look at how Tim is holding the pen. Stylistic choice or not, that grip means he's putting pressure on the pen. That he's heavy handing his writing.
Now look at the pen. That's a fountain pen. Fountain pens work through combined capillary and gravity action that makes the ink flow down to the nib naturally when the pen is in writing position and in contact with a writing surface; which is, depending on the model, between 45° and 60° angle in the vast majority of the cases.
Most fountain pens aren't made to sustain heavy hand writers. In fact, a great number of them is used to correct the grip, angle, muscle memory and heaviness of a person's handwriting style, since the simple act of touching the nib on paper easily makes the ink come out.
Now, look at Damian's implied facial expression and body language. Yes, we can all shrug it's just his rivalry with Tim that makes him react like that, it's a perfectly reasonable way to explain it all. However, for a fountain pen affictionado, for someone who loves fine writing instruments, that right there is a sentence of death.
Damian isn't just seeing Tim use his pen. He's seeing Tim, a person who couldn't care less for the writing tools he's using, obliterate the tines by placing way too much force on them. He's horrified of his favorite writing instrument being damaged by Tim's disregard with it, which is the most common reaction ever when any fountain pen lover sees their favorite pen being held and used by another person without their authorization.
Damian isn't overreacting at all.
The fountain pen community can confirm it.
[EDIT]
I know it's no ones concern, but as a lover of fountain pens, I kind of had to give a huge zoom-in in a version of this that isn't as pixelated and... guys, I think I know which fountain pen is this!
I may be wrong, but I think that's a Lamy Safari Black Charcoal model!
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In the comic we can't see the window or the triangular grip very well (I can kind of see a shadow of the triangular shape, but I'm not calling it without being certain) and it looks a bit chonkier, but look at that cap! That minimalist cap with the sturdy yet simple, black clip and small gap on the top of the cap! That's a cap for a Lamy Safari model if I ever saw one!
Yes, maybe it can be some other fancier and more expensive brand, most Lamy's I've seen are between 30-60USD with special collections being a little closer to the 80USD mark on really expensive shops online, but let me make an argument for it.
A Lamy Safari fountain is considered a popular workhorse among affictionados and artists alike. Not only it's reliable, with a simple yet stylish body and construct that serves to pretty much every occasion, its construct is simple in terms of maintainance and handling. Want to go travel on a plane? No problem, take the cartridges with you! Prefer bottle ink? Not a problem at all, here's the converter for all your bottled ink needs! Oh, the standard medium nib isn't to your liking? Let's find one that you enjoy, there's European extra fine (0.38) to broad, stub, italic and even for writing musical score! Still not enough? Hey, there are many manufacturers that make their own customized nibs for a fair price, maybe give them a try? And the best part? The nibs aren't so expensive that you're breaking the bank with them, so if you break one you can get another with relative ease.
This sweet pen is a monster at work 24/7. No wonder it's a popular model among beginners and long term users and lover of fountain pens. They're just that good.
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luviemax · 4 months
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white hot forever- oneshot
a/n: HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII song inspo here xoxo
-> daniel ricciardo x female! reader, no physical descriptions of reader
masterlist
warnings: reader is depicted to be uni-aged in this, so probs an age gap?, alcohol consumption
word count: 1,404 words
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You're convinced that you're having a mid-life crisis.
Your friends disagree, and hope to coax you, saying "it'll get better," and your parents think you're overdramatising.
So, of course, the most logical thing you could think of doing once the Summer break came knocking at your door was to flee to a place you'd never been to. Like ever.
No family there, just some distant family friends who had offered you a place to stay on their farm during your sabatical-holiday. So, yeah. Off to the airport you were, on a long ass flight, to a family friend's house that you'd never met, and their farm which you'd never been. Sounds great.
Nevertheless, the two people who come to pick you from the airport, whos' names you learn are Joe and Grace, are perfectly welcoming and are smiles all around. They make chit-chat on the way to the farm, asking about your degree, and telling you about their family farm on the outskirts of West Australia. They tell you that they have a son too, Daniel, who's coming back home after wrapping up some work. But for now, it was just you and the happy couple.
They insist you don't have to, but you feel obliged to help around the house and on the farm too. You love the quiet serenity that the farm life brings you. You help Joe clean up around the farm, and you help Grace inside the house, whether it be in the kitchen for quiet dinner nights, or just generally tiding up around the house.
When Daniel comes into your life, he comes in like a whirlwind tornado. That's a pretty good decription of him, and his character.
At first, you're sort of nervous. Frankly speaking, if the two of you couldn't get along, your holiday would basically be ruined, and you'd have no choice to go back home, mostly because you wouldn't want to interrupt the Ricciardo's family time if Daniel didn't like you.
One morning, he comes banging on the door, and when he barged into his family home, he comes with a wide grin, a smile so wide that it looks like that it might even hurt, and you realise that he has his mom's smile.
"Daniel," he extends a hand towards your direction, "You must be Y/N. I've heard so much about you." "All good, I hope." you tease, shaking his hand in return. "Hah, no," He nudges, "No, you're the most heinous person, like, ever."
Then on, you knew that the two of you would get on just fine.
The night he comes home, Joe and Grace bring the two of you into downtown Perth for dinner.
"To a blossoming friendship," Joe offers a toast, and you and Daniel sheepishly smile at each other as the four of you clink your glasses together.
You spend the remaining few weeks of your summer break in utter bliss. Daniel's more than good company, and he's a complete gentleman.
"Come with me," he cocks his head to the side, gesturing to off-road truck, "I want to bring you somewhere." "Are you trying to kill me?" You tease him while he opens the passenger door for you, eventually making yourself comfortable. "Yep." He beams, firing the ignition and fiddling around with the radio.
The two of you stay in relative silence, with Daniel humming in the background, and you peering out the car's window, admiring the beautiful views of Perth. What you don't notice is Daniel looking at you from the driver's seat. But hey, you don't need to know that, right?
Eventually, after a decently long drive, he pulls over and parks the car. He helps you down from your seat, and holds your hand as you follow his lead. You see a beautiful beach, with white sand, clear water, and a beautiful sunset. It's only now that you notice that Daniel has a beach bag in hand, and he sets down a beach blanket for the two of you. You make yourself comfortable on the blanket as he pulls out a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
"Cheers." He smiles, clinking the two of your glasses together as you take a sip of the wine. He has good taste. The two of you mindlessly babble as you watch the sunset. You talk about nothing in particular, but that's what Daniel's good at. He can talk to you about anything, and not make you feel stupid, even if you're talking about the most mundane or nonsense topics. You eventually rise from the blanket, taking a walk on the shore. Daniel trails close by behind you, and you hear the shutter of a camera. "You brought it with you?" You ask him, flashing a smile as you ripple the water beneath your feet. "When do I not?" He chuckles, catching up to walk beside you. You don't answer that question, because he has a point.
Sooner or later, the two of you return to your nest of a blanket. There's still half a bottle of wine left, but as soon as the two of you finish that, Daniel reveals a bottle of whiskey concealed in his blanket, and he takes a swig. He offers you some too after he's done, and so do you.
By the end of the night, you're slightly tipsy. Daniel's a little tipsy too, but he has a pretty good tolerance, plus, someone needed to drive the two of you home.
"I like your hair." You give Daniel a slanted smile, running your fingers through his curls. "Thank you." He smiled. "I like your smile." You rest your hand on his cheek. "You're beautiful, you know that?" He runs his ringed hands through your hair, "I hope you remember this tomorrow, because I don't think I'd have half the balls to do this again," You only smile, but you run your fingers over his lips. "Can I do this?" He whispered against your lips, as the scent of his now familiar cologne invaded your senses. You only nod as he presses his lips to yours, and although the two of you have known each other for the matter of weeks, kissing him is something that comes to you easily, and you swear that you could do it forever.
That night, after Daniel drives the two of you home and you've settled him, you creep down the hallway and sneak into his room to slip under his sheets and curl into his embrace as you fall asleep in his arms.
On the days which Daniel has to attend to unspecified 'work obligations', you spend your day just... waiting for him. Before you knew him, it was never like this. You'd spend your day being productive. But it just wasn't the same without him there. You watch the door for his broad smile. His tattoed arms. His warm embrace. And when he finally, and inevitably does, he tells you, "You feel like home."
So obviously, when you have to go back to university, you're dismayed. You wish that you could stay with Daniel forever. "One more year, love," He whispers into your hair one night when you're in his arms after you've snuck into his room, "then you can come with me." "Where to?" You mumble tentatively. "Monaco, baby. My apartment." He strokes your hair, placing a kiss on the side of your forehead. "Monaco?" You question, the word sounding foreign on your tongue. You could get used to it, though. "Monaco." He promises.
So the following year, he's front row at your graduation, surely the loudest in the crowd as you walk across the stage, and of course, his camera is capturing the moment.
When you proudly present your diploma to him, he gives you a tight hug and an affectionate smooch and tells you how proud he is of you. He helps you pack up your stuff, and the next week, you're flying off to Monaco with your entire life in a few suitcases.
The apartment is stunning, and it's so... him. You don't really know how to explain it, but the windows are ceiling to floor, and it's simply stunning in its simplicity. You call it home.
Every summer, the two of you still go back to Perth, the place which started everything, and you still go back to that beach, with a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey.
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astarions-wife · 5 months
Text
I can’t believe it’s come to the point of analyzing Cazador for all of you, but considering the amount of “Cazador can be redeemed!” And “Cazador x reader” I’ve seen, I feel like i need to make this.
So you feel pity for Cazador because he also suffered at the hands of his master. Good. That’s the point. You should feel something for Cazador, he also suffered abuse, and was dragged into the cycle of it by Vellioth. It’s awful, it’s terrible, but it doesn’t mean he’s redeemable.
Very much so, when Cazador kills Vellioth and chooses to start the cycle of power and abuse over again, he was too far gone. He made the choice, the conscious choice to be the same as his old master. Of course he’s suffering internally, somewhere is the soul of someone who lost everything, and became something awful. However he doesn’t even say he wishes for a reset. He wishes for death. Only in death is he free of the cycle of abuse, for his role in it is too far gone at this point.
“Orin and Gortash have apologists!” They do, but they’re also under different circumstances. It’s also justifiable to absolutely hate Orin and Gortash (believe me, even as someone who believes Gortash could’ve been better, I killed him in my initial run). Specifically as the Dark Urge, you can tell Orin that she’s being used just as Kethric and Gortash were. She’ll even break down as if she’s realizing that all this death she’s done in the name of her father/for her God, has been her being taken advantage of. Though she never gets a chance to be better, because she’s forcibly transformed in this ending, it’s just a sneak peak of what could have been. She was being used, and while it doesn’t erase or justify ANYTHING she did (and you’re well within your right, and should hold her accountable), it at least gives the player insight on to what could have been.
Likewise with Gortash, a victim of abuse at the hands of Raphael, with canonical lines on how he was beaten in the House of Hope as a little boy. His own parents sold him out, and he ended up being so desperate to be bigger, to have more power, that he also let himself be used, and in turn lost everything he worked hard for (and sold out Karlach, which is absolutely unforgivable of course). However he wasn’t too far gone. You can see his loyalty to you depending what options you pick, and although death is his inevitable end, it still shows that there was still a person inside.
There wasn’t a person in Cazador anymore. He was trapped behind the wall of abuse that he continued, and refused to even acknowledge it, or try and see reason. Perhaps it wasn’t possible for him, but ultimately his actions brought him here. Those that say Ascension for Astarion would free him of those chains, are simply wrong. Why does Astarion deserve to live, anymore than his siblings? Or the seven thousand people who were turned against their will? Of course Astarion is more, controlled in his hunger—but so are his siblings. Even speaking to them after the fight they’ll all vow and attest that they can control themselves, and they’ll even help the others if brought to it.
Ascended Astarion picks up the abuse cycle, killing thousands of people with just his first command. Ascended Astarion no longer speaks to you, but instead at you. You’re his “favorite” spawn, but then again Cazador had favorites didn’t he? And all of them suffered just as badly as the rest. Ascended Astarion even mentions “covering the world in darkness for his spawn”, which shows him continuing the abusive cycle that got Cazador in the first place.
Cazador dying, and spawn Astarion choosing to break the cycle is the significant ending. The best ending for Cazador, the only one for him, is to let him die. He’s a horrible, cruel, bitter man, and any sense of his humanity died long ago. Only in his dreams is there anything left, and he’s too cut off to even reach them anymore.
We also know that the Szarr’s had family. There are relatives to Cazador (see his niece), and clearly it wouldn’t have been wrong of him as a vampire to have a family if he so chose. But he didn’t seek out a partner, like some of his other (vampire) relatives did. He chose to only live by his spawn, whom he considered his children, showing that he truly didn’t see a need for a partner. Themes of family are a vital part of his story, but the element of a romantic partner never has been.
TLDR—Some villains in this game are understood, and potentially redeemable if given the option. Cazador is not one of them.
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luimagines · 8 months
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Oh!! I have a request! How about some magic shit happens and the boys are turned into kids! And reader has to take care of them! It can be one at the time or all of them at once, whatever you prefer. And maybe they remember what happened when they're back to normal? I love your writing, take your time to write and stay hydrated!!
Oh sure! How cute!!
Masterlist
Part one will include Wild, Sky and Legend
Content under the cut!
Wild
The giggles were contagious. You found yourself on the verge of laughing hysterically next to the small child.
Somehow Wild got hit from a wizzrobe to be no older than five years old and yet he's as if he hasn't changed. Stranger yet, you've gathered that he either must have been displaced in time or he was the only one to time travel. His scars are gone as well so it's not as if he was shrunk.
"Ooh! An apple!" He sprints towards the tree, running up the truck and latching onto the first branch he can reach. He then swings his body up and over it before he shimmies over to pluck the apple for the branch above.
"He's just as bad." Four laughs to himself.
"And yet he claims that he was the perfect soldier." Twilight frowns, standing under the branch to catch the kid in case he fell.
"I'm ok!" He calls down to the rancher. "You don't have to catch me! Papa lets me do this all the time."
You snort with your hands on your hips. "He must have had a lot of training."
"Or pressure." Warrior mutters.
That dampens your mood a bit. He makes a point.
You were having soo much fun just messing with the kid that you didn't stop to think about what his attitude actually meant. Was his carefree spirit beaten out of him? You hope not literally.
You hear him hit the ground and he runs straight to you, b-lining around Twilight to avoid him. You laugh at the Rancher. You didn't think he would take it to heart but he looks as if the kid just offended his entire legacy.
"Here!" Wild cheers, holding out a bright red apple in your direction. "You didn't eat breakfast. So you should eat too."
You flush and take the apple. "Thank you."
"You didn't eat?" Sky raises an eyebrow.
The little boy nods. "I saw them. They pretended they weren't hungry so they didn't have to eat the food."
You flinch. It was Hyrule's turn to cook. You had hoped to have gone unnoticed. Tou stand mistaken.
"Well... thank you, Link." You bite your lip, holding the apple up higher. "I was feeling a bit peckish."
He giggles and takes a bite out the apple he got for himself. "Aryll likes apples too. So I get to climb our tree to get them for her."
The group all relatively freeze. Wind especially.
"Aryll?" You try to keep the conversation going so that he doesn't catch on. "Do you take care of her?"
He nods, his face full of pride. "She's my baby sister! I have to take care of her, just like Papa says!"
"I bet you do a good job at that." You swallow your spit.
Does this mean he's unlocked memories too? You don't really want to think about it. Looking at the poor boy is starting to make you feel emotional. He doesn't deserve what he gets.
You take a bite of the apple.
It's bitter.
Sky
You stared and stared and stared.
Boyish laughs fill the camp as the others are also just at an lost to do. The only ones with any chance of corralling this kid are Wind and Twilight.
The group was down a member but also added the new challenge of dealing with said down member.
"Hello." The little boy stops running right in front of you, holding out a single pale purple flower. "This is for you."
You blink and take it gently. He can't be much older than six or seven years old. Much younger than any other in the group. Younger than the average age they all took up the mantle of hero. Young enough to have to idea who he is or what he will become.
"Thank you, Link." You say just as softly, placing the flower behind your ear. A few others squirm at the mention of their name. But you have no other choice to use it. The young boy wouldn't respond to Sky and he would have no inclination to abide by the unspoken rules they've set up.
He smiles back and hugs his arm close to his body. He's a shy boy but kind and just as gentle as he grows to be. He's innocent and curious but doesn't ask questions. He's incredibly trusting.
Your jaw flexes at the thought, but you won't let it change your facial expression. Sky seems to be waiting for something. You tilt your head down, meeting his eyes. "What is it, Link?"
He bites his lip. "....Would you....like to play with me? ...Please?"
You would never tell Sky that he has the most adorable puppy eyes in the history of existence. You never stood a chance. "Sure thing, Buddy. What do you want to play?"
He beams. "Hide and seek!"
"Maybe not." Twilight winces. You wince as well, especially when you see how Sky suddenly seems chest fallen. You're in the middle of no where and he has no way of coming back to you if he gets lost. Twilight explains it as such. "There's just not a lot places to hide, buck-o. So if you get lost, we'd have no idea how to find you again."
Sky pouts and looks upset enough to cry.
"We can draw." You blurt, wanting to save the moment.
"Really?" Sky perks up and looks around. "...But there's no paper."
You turn around and pick up a stick, snapping it in half and giving him the bigger half. "We'll draw in the dirt!"
Sky looks at the stick and pokes the ground with it. "...I used to do this with Zelda when we were bored. I don't think they have sticks at the Academy though."
"Yeah?" You plop yourself onto the ground, patting the spot next to you. "Tell me about it."
He smiles and sits down next to you, poking and dragging he stick through the dirt. "My loftwing is big and pretty but I'm too little to ride him yet. That's what Gaepora says."
You shoo away prying eyes and nosy ears.
Wind grabs his own sticks and you. "What's a lofting?"
Sky freezes. He's looks so lost. "You don't know what a loftwing is? Don't you have them on your island?"
Wind shakes his head.
Sky frowns and looks around. "I thought Skyloft was the biggest island and everyone knows what loftwings are."
He stands, looking towards the horizon. "But this is also a pretty big island."
You flinch. You didn't even consider that he wouldn't remember that he's on the surface.
Who's going to tell him?
Legend
"Where's my uncle?" The little boy asks. Once the smoke had cleared and the monsters were defeated, you had to take a look at the damage. This little boy stood where Legend once did. It seems that his clothes were changed with him, at least. Otherwise you don't know what you all would have been able to keep him from swimming in fabric.
You bite your lip and share looks with the rest of the group. The little boy looked scared and lost. He kept wringing his little hat between his hand as he looked for someone to answer him.
You gulped and got on your knees to meet his eyes. "What does he look like? Maybe we can try and find him together?"
You know where his uncle is. It was something had told you under the comfort of night, something he didn't really tell any of the others. But you can't look into his little teary eyes and tell him the truth and you certainly can't do it in front of everyone else.
"He's tall and strong." The boy looks more comforted now he gathered that you were going to help him. "He lost his hair but it grows on his chin instead."
"Bald with a beard. Can you tell me his name?" You smile and say your name. "What's your name?"
"I call him Uncle." He tilts his head. That's a no. "He calls me Link."
"Well Link, it's very nice to meet you." You're giving yourself extra brownie points for holding yourself together. "How old are you, Link?"
He frowns and lifts up once of his hand, sticking up four little fingers.
"Oh wow! You're already four years old." You try to keep things light. "Your uncle must trust you a lot since you're so big."
He smiles and giggles, covering his mouth with a small fist. "I get to help Uncle take care of the house. Sometimes he lets me help with dinner."
You smile back, trying to not let the image pull at your heart strings. Less you start crying on the spot. "I guess he'll need his little helper then. Come on, we'll all help you look for your uncle, ok?"
"Ok."
You stand up and stick your hand out. "Don't get lost now. Come on. We'll start looking."
Little Legend takes your hand and you look to others, finally, for assistance. You receive none. Only a few poorly hidden thumbs up from the others members.
"Traveler." You whine. "Tell me we can fix this."
He stares before nodding slightly. "Let me think of something."
You can only nod. This might take a while to fix.
Legend tugs on your hand, bringing your attention back to him. "Is uncle really faraway?"
"Uhh..." Your brain stalls before you figure the answer can't be so bad. "More like, we're really far away...From everyone. But we'll get back to find some people and then maybe we can find your uncle."
"You hear that Traveler?" Four says. "You have until we reach the next town."
You ignore the groaning. Legend looks so happy. "Good! He'll be worried about me!"
You tear up. "Let's fix this then, buddy."
Part 2
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sunlit-haruka · 5 months
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Ranking all of the Milgram Birthday Outfits on a scale of 1/10 because it's 3AM over here and I have to do school things at 6 (Inspired by this video) ↓
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Already off to an incredibly strong start, because as we know, Haruka is perfect and can do no wrong. Dog? Little sister? Who's that? Sounds like a myth honesty. Alright, jokes and Haruka bias aside, very nice ! Relatively plain all things considered, but that's quite fitting for Haruka (I mean, have you seen how this kid dresses normally? I'm somewhat surprised that he didn't go for a full white look. Wonder if Muu helped him out when choosing his pieces) I also love the color blue, so bonus points for that. (shut up I know I just said I would ignore biases) Overall, I give Haruka Sakurai a 8/10 !! Lookin' good, buddy ! ↓
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Yuno looks so pretty and the outfit is SO cute !! I love the frilliness of the shirt, the pleated skirt is really cute and in general I love the shades of pink chosen for this outfit, and those SHOEEEES girl where did you get those give me name and address. I honestly have no complaints at all I give Yuno Kashiki a 10/10 !! Absolutely gorgeous girl !! (Also it's unfortunate we're only ranking the outfits and not the cakes, because the decision to give Yuno a fucking staircase cake was genius) ↓
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...Mannn, I wish I could say I liked this outfit so badly. The outfit itself is alright, if a bit basic, and Fuuta looks very handsome ! But I can't help but feel like black would've been a better choice for him than dark brown. And Fuuta...my guy...WHY those shoes? I could've maybe forgiven the outfit colors if you didn't decide to pair them with shiny gold...sneakers? What the hell even are those? Get better shoes, man. Overall, I'm giving Fuuta Kajiyama a 4/10. I like the outfit it'self (minus the shoes), but the coloring brings it down a lot for me. ↓
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Christ, no wonder Muu got model deals ! Look at this queen right here !! She looks absolutely gorgeous, the dress is beautiful and I love the Beauty And The Beast inspiration. The earrings being inspired by an hourglass is a very cool detail, and the heels look great as well ! I genuinely don't think I have any faults with this one Muu Kusunoki gets a 10/10 ! Nice job dressing to impress ! ↓
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One chance Mr. Kirisaki, one cha-- Ahem. As I was saying, Shidou looks amazing in this outfit !! I'm usually not a fan of there being so much white on it's own (I sound like a certain horror fanatic, sheesh.) But Shidou reallly rocks it, and the purple accents are very nice in comparison !! I also really like the shoes for some reason. Shidou is being added to the list also consisting of Muu and Yuno where I need to see who their shoemaker is For Shidou Kirisaki, I give a 9/10 !! Very pretty man. ↓
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Mahiru looks very pretty here ! I love the poofy hair accessory, and the birdcage earrings are a very nice touch. That being said however...the dress is a bit too plain for me. I cannot help but feel like something is missing here that would make the overall outfit look way better. A sash maybe? Despite that though, Mahiru Shiina gets a 6/10 !! Looking ready for a date !  ↓
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Ooooh...Kazui stans forgive me, but I'm pretty indifferent to this outfit. It's not bad mind you ! Kazui looks very handsome in it, and I like the blue chosen for his tie. But it's the same problem with Mahiru where I feel like it's a bit too plain and could've used something more, like a pattern on his vest or pants. Also though his shoes aren't the atrocity that is Fuuta's, I feel like a black or even a dark blue akin to Haruka would've looked a lot better in comparison to the rest of his outfit. Kazui Mukuhara is granted a 5/10. Not the best, not the worst. Sorry old man. ↓
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AHHH SHE LOOKS SO CUTE !! It's like if the frilliness from Yuno's outfit was upped to twenty ! Amane's dress is adorable and looks very comfortable as well, I want a bigger sized version for myself. I also really like her big bow, as well as the blue shoes. But most importantly, Amane seems to be genuinely happy wearing it, and as a fandom, Amane's happienss takes priority. Amane Momose, you'll be getting a 9/10 from me ! Good on ya, kid ! ↓
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Ahhh, he's so cute ! Look at how polite he looks ! The blazer is nice, and also blue. Blue bias. And the boots absolutely fucking SLAY. The way his hair is styled looks very nice as well ! I also think this is the closest we have gotten to official art of Mikoto smiling genuinely, and I personally think we need more. And more. And more. Mikoto Kayano gets a 10/10 !! Very cute boy ! ↓
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Ma'am, I politely and respectfully ask you to break my neck mercilessly-- Ahem. As I was saying. KOTOKO LOOKS FUCKING AMAZING !! The undershirt oh my god the FUCKING UNDERSHIRT !! Absolutely adore it so much. The colors are all very pleasing to the eye, the skirt is very cute, and the heels look cool as hell !! But Kotoko also looks cool as hell in anything, so is this really fair? Kotoko Yuzuriha has obtained a 10/10 ! Absolutely gorgeous.
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