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#hope this isn't too long?? whoops
nobully · 1 year
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2, 4, 6, 9, 10
here's weirder asks
2. lighter or matches?
"Lighter, it's easier and looks cool."
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"Gotta play my part right."
[lighter for me too im paranoid about burning myself with matches even for a second cause that'd hurt]
4. which cryptyd being do you believe in?
"I don't know, does Sao Ling count? He's monstrous enough."
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"Either that or whatever deity they have screwing with Qin Xian so he keeps running into me for these novel worlds..."
[nessie is real. i believe it in my heart. bigfoot too, probably. and the abominable snowman.]
6. why did you do that?
"Because more pain now means...less pain later?"
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"Not sure exactly what you mean, but I don't like giving people false hopes."
[as a test of my abilities. is this referring to procrastination because hooboy am i behind on some Stuff]
9. which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?
"Depends on the weather, don't you think?"
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"Hot in winter, cold in summer. Hot with AC, cold with heater?"
[lolol i prefer tea but i like frozen coffee stuff sure]
10. would you slaughter the rich?
"According to the script, I am the rich and I'm supposed to get slaughtered by other people."
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"But also, that shit's illegal so no."
[lolol no, that's trying to take a simple solution to a more complex problem. also, illegal.]
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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Closing shifts at Scoops Ahoy are always boring, but Robin took off early to study and nobody is coming in for ice cream at 8pm on a school night in mid-winter. Steve's alone and has been for the last forty-five minutes, with no end in sight.
He's doing tricks with his scooper, counting how many times he can twist it through his fingers without dropping it (57 so far), when the most beautiful man Steve has ever seen, walks in. He's got long dark hair that falls in perfect curls around his shoulders; wide eyes the same deep brown of fresh, dark coffee; and the most perfect plump mouth.
Steve can't move, his head going fuzzy. His eyes catch on the man's chest--visible through the black mesh tank top he's wearing-- revealing tantalizing swirls of black ink and the glint of silver bars through each nipple. The guy also has on leather pants that cling to the line of his legs like a second skin.
Jesus. Steve just realized he's bi and the physical embodiment of his wet dreams walks into the store like it's nothing. He's going to die.
The man rushes to the counter, his eyes finally falling on Steve, and it's like his feet get caught on each other for a second before he struts forward. His face melts into this heart-stopping smile, bringing out the cutest set of dimples Steve has ever seen. This is it, Steve is done for, time of death, 8:06pm.
"Ahoy, sailor," the man says with a mischievous glint in those dark eyes.
He returns the smile and somewhere, somehow, finds the words to reply, "I think that's my line."
Steve leans towards the counter, but in doing so, drops the scooper hanging from his fingers. The metallic clatter is harsh against the tile, and blood rushes to his cheek. "Whoops," he mumbles. He ducks down to retrieve it, mentally kicking himself for his clumsiness.
The man's smile only grows, and now there's a faint flush across his pale cheeks. And fuck if Steve can't help but smile right back, to let their eye contact linger.
"What can I get you?" He asks. His voice is way too low for regular customer service, and if he flutters his eyelashes too--well, that's between him and the USS Butterscotch.
"I know this is ridiculous. It's late and it's starting to snow," the man says. He leans over the counter. "But I need a strawberry shake to go."
"Strawberry shake, good choice," Steve nods. "Coming right up."
They don't stop looking at each other or smiling as he blends up the drink, and when he hands the cup over, their fingers brush, linger, both their faces staining red.
"How much do I owe you?" he asks.
Steve shakes his head. "On the house."
"You really know how to charm a guy, sailor-boy."
"Maybe I'm hoping to see you again."
"Depends," the man says. His smile widening, his dimples getting somehow deeper.
"On?"
"How good this shake is." He winks.
Steve thinks he might burst into flame before the man can taste the drink, but then the guy glances at his watch and curses. "Sorry, sweetheart, I gotta run. Been a pleasure, sailor."
And with that, he runs from the store, strawberry shake clutched in his long-fingered grasp.
Steve collapses against the counter, burying his face in his hands. He's not ever gonna recover from that.
---
Eddie's guitar is in his lap, his melted strawberry shake at his side. He can't get the guy from the ice cream shop out of his head.
Fuck, he had all that perfect hair under that silly little hat; his face dotted with cute little moles and freckles; eyes that flashed from honey to gold to green flecked hazel; and the poutiest, most perfect lips ever had Eddie seen. Not to mention how he looked bent over in those itty bitty shorts. Shit, if he isn't totally done for.
He can't stop smiling.
That is until a guitar pick hits him right in the forehead, dragging his attention back to his surroundings.
"Earth to Eddie," their manager, Chrissy, says. "You go on in ten minutes."
"Don't tell me you didn't get the stupid shake." Gareth shakes his head.
"No, I got it. Not to worry."
"Then what's up with you?" Jeff asks.
Eddie can't help the huge, stupid smile that illuminates his face.
"There was a guy," Eddie sighs.
Chrissy and his bandmates share a look. "Let me guess," Gareth says. "You walked in and he was like 'Oh, Mr. Munson. Let me get you ice cream, let me suck your dick. Oooh, you're so hot. Corroded Coffin is my favorite band.'"
"C'mon, no. I don't even think he knew who I was."
At one point, that would've bothered him. But now, after five years of hooking up with dudes who were only interested in famous Eddie Munson, he likes that the guy from the ice cream parlor seemed totally oblivious. That, when his eyes lit up with interest, it was for genuine attraction and not name recognition.
"Did you get his number?" Chrissy asks.
He slumps. "No."
His friends all groan. Another guitar pick flies at him, getting caught up in his curls.
"Well, you'll go back tomorrow. Now get your head in the game, Munson! You have a sold out stadium to play!"
---
"I'm not kidding you, Robs, he was the hottest guy I've ever seen. I didn't even know dudes could be that beautiful."
"Uh-huh," she says.
"You're not even listening." He jabs her in the ribs, making her squeak.
"Sorry, sorry," she bats his hands away. "Describe him again?"
And he does, leaving nothing out. Once he's done, Robin is gaping at him, gum about to fall out of her open mouth.
"What?"
She grabs his wrist, dragging him out of the store.
"Robin, what are you doing? We're supposed to be working!"
She doesn't answer, just hauls him to the record store down the hall.
"Was it this guy?" She asks. She's out of breath.
"What?"
"Steve! Was it him?" She gestures to a new release display and it's Steve's turn for speechlessness.
He's surrounded of images of the man from last night; on magazines, CDs, cassettes, on a couple posters hanging on display. He's with a couple of other guys, they're in a band called Corroded Coffin, but all Steve can see is deep brown eyes and plush lips, the bright dimples.
"Well?" Robin demands.
"Yeah," he nods. "That's him."
"Oh my god!" Robin screams. She grabs his arm and squeezes. "You flirted with Eddie Munson! Steve! You minx!"
"It was nothing," he blushes. "He's probably got someone already, anyway. I mean, look at him."
Robin makes a little face. "There are some rumors, but nothing serious."
"It was a nice dream," he says. He gives her a little smile. "Now, let's get back to work."
She loops her arm through his. "Whatever you say, dingus."
---
It's been a long day of slinging ice cream. Maybe Robin's revelation that the cute guy from the night before was an insanely famous rockstar is to blame, but Steve is exhausted.
"Hey, dingus!" Robin calls from the front.
"Yeah?" he mumbles.
"Some guy is here for you. He looks a lot like Eddie Munson."
She's not even finished with her sentence before Steve is vaulting back behind the counter, coming face-to-face with the man of his dreams.
Eddie's gorgeous, his face already flushed a faint pink. And just like the night before, Steve can't help but smile at the man before him, who dimples up immediately in return.
He forgets that Robin is there until she says, "Go get 'em, tiger," and snaps him in the chest with a towel.
With Robin gone, they still don't say anything for a second, both smiling and blushing and staring at each other.
"So, uh, I guess you're wondering why I'm back today."
"That's easy," Steve says. "It was the best strawberry milkshake you ever had."
Eddie laughs with his head back and Steve is stuck staring at the long lines of his throat.
"Well, it was the best, no question. Made me realize I was a fool not to ask for your number."
Somehow Steve's smile grows. He jots his name and number on a Scoops napkin, passing it to Eddie who does the same, before carefully ripping the paper in half.
"We're still on tour for the next three months, but I'll call you when I can?"
"I'm looking forward to it."
"Talk soon, sweetheart," Eddie leans into Steve's space, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Steve still has a hand resting on the spot when Robin re-emerges.
"Oooh, you've got it sooo bad," she sing-songs.
He's so happy, he can't even bother to shush her.
---
Corroded Coffin has a new album out. It's a huge hit, number ones across the board, a fixture on MTV. It's full of heavy metal love songs, sales bolstered by the rumors that Eddie's been in a secret relationship for years.
They're at the Grammys, nominated for Best Metal Performance. The band has moved on down the red carpet, but Eddie's still answering questions, their assistant waiting with him. The interviewer asks Eddie, "There's a lot of speculation about your romantic life because of this album. There are rumors that the song 'Sailor Boy' is in reference to how you met your lover. Will you tell fans about the person you're dating, the one who inspired the album?"
"No," Eddie smiles for the camera. "But oh, do I love the way he moans," he sings a lyric of the song in question before giving the interviewer a lascivious wink, and continuing on down the carpet.
Years later, after Eddie and Steve are comfortably out and married and Corroded Coffin has cemented themselves in metal history, the video of that interview will be uploaded to YouTube.
It's obvious, now, the way Eddie and Steve, the "assistant", gravitate towards each other. How Steve flushes a pretty crimson that spreads below the collar of his shirt as Eddie sings. The way Eddie smirks at him with a raised eyebrow. The way his hand cradles the small of Steve's back as they walk away together.
It causes a frenzy online, fans compiling blog posts and videos of moments of Steve and Eddie being totally obvious about being in love before the world knew that they were.
Eventually, Steve posts a photo to the band's webpage. It's of him and Eddie at Scoops Ahoy. He's wearing his uniform, and Eddie is in a faded Metallica t-shirt and ripped jeans. They stand at the counter with their arms around each other, smiling hard, eyes locked. He captions it with, "putting the sailor boy allegations to rest."
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threadbaresweater · 23 days
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one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan x reader
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Arthur doesn't think you're interested in him any more than you're interested in fishing, which ain't much. You hope he shares even an inkling of the feelings you have for him. It's no surprise to anyone else in camp that there's something between the two of you, and they make sure you get a chance to show each other how you really feel.
The details: 3.9k words. Female reader with a backstory that isn't really elaborated upon in this fic but might be at a later date if I have the spoons; several gang members act as side-characters/wingmen (and women); alcohol and cigarette use; sex (pretty vanilla, but a little rough and intense). NSFW. This is also my first fic for a new fandom, so please be gentle with me. It's been a while.
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Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now. 
“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs. 
“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.
“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”
You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.
Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.
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“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”
The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess. 
“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.
“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”
“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”
She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”
You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.
Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”
You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?” 
Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”
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A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house. 
“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”
“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”
“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight. 
Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”
There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers. 
Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.
“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.
Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch. 
“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.
“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips. 
“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench. 
“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”
He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…” 
You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.
There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.” 
“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.
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The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.
“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”
You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.
Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.
“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road. 
Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”
You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.
“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.” 
“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”
The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.
You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.” 
It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed. 
“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.
“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.
“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.
Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)
You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.
“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.
“Could ask you the same thing.”
“Well, you started it.”
“And you finished it.”
“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”
“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.
“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.
“It's a promise,” he whispers.
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You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed. 
The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.
“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.
He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.
“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”
You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.
“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”
It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above. 
You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”
Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”
Now you remember it in vivid detail.
“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”
“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”
“I ain't no damn–”
“Kiss me.”
He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours. 
Things get heated quickly.
His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.
“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him. 
“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible. 
“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grab at each other like it's the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you want more than what the other of you is able to give.
Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.
“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”
Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.
There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”
Your moans are what drive him over the edge.
He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.
Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours. 
You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”
Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”
“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”
“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”
You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”
He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year
Text
𝑨𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑬𝑯𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak au, strangers to lovers
word count: 7.2k
summary: Joel has been experiencing knee pain for the past two months. When he finally sees an orthopedist, he learns that he has some minor damage to his meniscus. The doctor prescribes him anti-inflammatory medication and physical therapy, recommending swimming. At the pool, he meets you.
warnings: conversation about past failed relationships + sexual relationships, sarah's off at college, reader being briefly self conscious about her body, touch starved joel, oral (giving), both reader and joel not being intimate with anyone for a while, piv sex, riding for the first time, ass play, messy, joel showing small signs of relationship anxiety, sexual tension, size kink, dirty talk, joel is mentioned to be older than reader but how old isn't specified, praise kink, joel being...well-endowed
a/n: this ended up being more emotional and longer than I intended lmaodfbvfg whoops?
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Joel worries his bottom lip between his teeth. His right knee bobs nervously, his jeans making a sound every time. The early morning sun filters through the small window. A soft yellow light bounces off the picture frames on the orthopedist's desk. She’s not here yet. The kind nurse had let him in early, saying she would be there shortly. It smells like medicine. It’s too clean and he doesn’t like it. 
His stomach turns. Some part of him actually hopes the doctor doesn’t come in. Joel’s not hopeful about the results. His knees have been bugging him for the past two months. Locking painfully whenever he sat too long and got up. Or when he was sitting in the truck for too long. It just started to ache out of nowhere. It had gotten worse. He’d give in, finally, after Sarah practically begged him on the phone to see a doctor. After all this time he still couldn’t say no to his sweet girl. 
The door opens with a click. Joel becomes stiff, eyes nervously following the woman. She takes a seat. Placing the folder neatly on the shiny table, she opens it and smooths it out with the flat of her palms. 
“Good morning, Mister Miller.” she says, not bothering to look at him. “I've taken a look at your knee x-rays and it seems that you have a bit of damage in your meniscus.”
His molars catch the smooth inside of his cheek and sink into it. She just said a whole lot that he doesn’t understand. He shakes his head. She’s finally looking at him, sharp eyes peering between thinned lashes. 
“Is it serious? What does that mean?” he asks, hands finding the curve of his knees. 
“Well, the good news is that it's not a major injury. There’s just a bit of damage in the tissues and can be treated with some medication and physical therapy. You won’t need surgery unless it escalates. Which, hopefully, it won’t.”
“Okay, that's good to hear. What kind of medication and therapy do I need?”
“I'm going to prescribe you some anti-inflammatory medication to help reduce the swelling and pain in your knee. And as for physical therapy, I'd recommend you try swimming. It's a low-impact exercise that can help strengthen the muscles around your knee and promote healing. I also have some stretches I want to show you. I want you to do them daily.” 
She closes the folder, picks up a deck of Post-it notes, and starts scribbling something. 
“You were a contractor, right? I’m going to need you to refrain from heavy lifting for a while. No jumping, no running, no extreme movements that can affect your knee. Some walking is fine, but not a lot.” 
“Well,” he smacks his lips. Now relaxed, he leans back into the chair and crosses his arms. “There goes my weekend plans.” 
“Do you work out a lot? Because this is quite common in athletes.” 
“Uh…It was a joke.” 
“Oh.” 
Suddenly he’s fidgety again. Not wanting to look dumb, he explains. “Because you said jumpin’ and runnin’ and no one spends their weekend jumpin’ do they?” 
A nervous laughter bubbles in his throat, and he manages to swallow it down. She nods and peels the paper away. Handing it to Joel, she looks at him with a small smile. 
“Sorry about that, it’s still early. And you’re right. They don’t. 
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You step into the small shower cabin and allow the cold water to trace over your skin and wash away the outside. The elastic of your swimming cap digs into your forehead, the goggles applying pressure right above your head. Slightly irritated, you sneak two fingers under where the plastic starts, allowing your head to breathe one last time before taking a dip in the pool. You come here almost every day. It’s relaxing, soothing. 
Your fingers slip as you twist the knob, turning off the spray of water. You might be biased due to your childhood, but you love the pool. You love the chlorine that fills your lungs with every breath. It’s sharp and pungent, leaving a slight burn in your lungs. During summers your parents would send you off to summer camp, which you thoroughly enjoyed. Though, calling it a “camp” felt wrong. It wasn’t outdoors, and you would return after the day ended, just like regular school, but instead of math, there was swimming and basketball. 
You remember those days fondly, which is why you sigh blissfully at the scent whereas a lot of people would wrinkle their noses. 
Walking to the pool, you roll your shoulders. You wince upon hearing them crack. It’s been a long week. Your gaze lifts to the ceiling. The soft pitter patters of rain echoes. You love to swim when it rains. It also meant there would be fewer people, and no children. You don’t have anything against the tiny humans, but they had a habit of being loud. 
You spot an older couple, their bodies swaying in a lazy backstroke, their voices spilling out in laughter. You also notice one other person that’s aggressively swimming back and forth. In one lane, you notice a man. His cap and black goggles make it hard to catch a glimpse of his face. It’s hardly inappropriate, but you can’t resist stealing a few more glances at him. 
You take in his broad shoulders, thick neck, and shapely arms. You narrow your eyes. You catch a glimpse of his salt and pepper beard, the darker hue of his mustache hinting at the  color of his hair. Your eyes drop to his hands, hidden in the water up to the knuckles. He clenches them into fists before releasing them.
Your curiosity piques. You’ve never seen him before, he looks lost. He’s standing above the built-in stairs which are mainly used for people who are just learning to swim. He takes another step lower. The light blue water splashes over his soft stomach and he jerks away. You instinctively smile. You usually don’t reach out to people. If they smile at you, you smile back or talk about the weather. But the stranger’s nervous energy prompts you to take a couple of steps closer—close enough that he can hear you. You take a deep breath, pressing your nails into your palms, you push down the thoughts about your own appearance. No one really looks that good in a one piece. You feel exposed, which is why you usually dip into the water as fast as you can before anyone can get a good look. 
“Hi there,” you squeak, with an awkward lift of your hand. The man stiffens and turns. Your own image is reflected back at you thanks to the goggles he wears. “Sorry to bother you, I was just…wondering if you need help?” 
He stares at you in silence for a brief moment, his brows drawn together with confusion. But a moment later he relaxes, his shoulders drop and he playfully shakes his head. 
Finally, he removes the goggles, and you see his eyes— his gorgeous, big brown eyes. Your breath catches in your throat. You’re suddenly feeling very clammy and sweaty. 
“Is it that obvious?” he asks, a grin teasing at his lips. “My doctor said I need to start swimmin’ before my knees give out entirely.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that.” 
He waves his hand in dismissal, “Don’t be. It's nothin’ that serious, just small damage to my meniscus. I know how to swim, so it’s nothin’ like that but I guess my nerves are fried from worryin’ all weak about the results. My brain still ain’t convinced that everythin’ is fine.” 
God, he’s gorgeous. All you can do is focus on the movement of his lips. Him speaking is enough to fluster you. You need to get it together before he thinks you’re a creep. You part your lips, but the words die in your throat as you watch him. He starts climbing the steps one by one with an extended hand. The water cascades down his body, his trunks sticking to his thighs. In a fit of panic, you glue your eyes to his. 
“I’m Joel by the way.” he takes your hand and gives it two firm shakes. You introduce yourself but all you can hear is your own frantic heartbeat. 
“I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” you blurt out. You have no idea what to say or what you’re doing. “If you’re nervous we can do a couple of laps together if you want—if you’re comfortable with that, of course.” 
You swear your heart stops when his eyes flit across your face, assessing how serious you are. His smile never fades. You inhale sharply when his tongue darts out from between his lips, sweeping over his damp bottom lip.
“I bet you say that to all the older guys.” 
“Only the cute ones.” 
Clearly, the circuits between your brain and mouth are heavily damaged because there’s no way on god’s green earth did you just say that. You blink fast. Images of you choking out another you vivid in your mind. You’re insane—only the ones that are cute, who even says that? No more romantic comedies for you. 
Joel pushes his shoulders back. He exhales a deep breath, his chest heaving. 
“Well, ain’t that kind of you.” he takes a step back into the water, some part of you regrets not sneaking at least one more glance at his nethers. “I guess I should take you up on your offer. It’s only polite.” 
A nervous bubble of laughter escapes your throat. You don’t say anything and follow him into the pool. You’re glad to be finally submerging your body in water. Ever since you were little you would believe that water had magical healing properties. You would go into the water, thinking that someone it would speak to you. Despite being an adult, you still think that sometimes. It just makes life a little bit more fun. You know it’s stupid to think of chloric water having any kind of benefit to your body, however, it’s hard to break old thought patterns. 
Joel dips head first, and after watching his distorted silhouette underwater, you follow. You smile, bubbles coming from your nose. Your spine cracks as your body becomes more fluid. You turn around so you are facing upwards. Light bounces on top of the small waves. The ceiling is nothing but a blur of white and blue. Some part of you wishes this was an open pool so you could feel the vibrations of raindrops hitting the waterline. 
Turning again, you notice Joel moving up. His head pops above water. You take one last glance at his body before propelling yourself up, joining him. 
Your eyes follow the way waterdrops smooths a line down from his neck to his shoulder. Your mouth goes dry. 
“So,” you say. “Did your doctor give you any specific exercises?” 
He shakes his head, “She just told me to go swimmin’. And not to put pressure on my knees.” 
You think for a bit before answering, “Alright then. We’ll just take it slow, so a couple of laps first, take small breaks in between.” 
“You…really don’t have to, you know,” Joel looks almost guilty before his eyes move away from yours. Confused, you raise an eyebrow. 
“I don’t have to what?” 
“Swim with me.” 
You feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces of glass that stick to your lungs. His voice is barely above a whisper, cracking at the end of his sentence. Your body moves towards his by instinct. The most natural thing would be to place your hand on his cheek and pull him for a tender kiss. Your body singing at you to do it. And man, you’re tempted alright. You want to trace the seam of his lips with your tongue, taste the chlorine on his lips. 
You ball your hands into tight fists, thankful to be hidden underwater. You recognize the loneliness that maps across his handsome countenance. 
“I know I don’t have to,” you say instead. He looks back at you with surprise, eyes immediately dropping to your wet lips. “I want to.” 
He lets out a breath of relief, and nods, a smile gracing his lips. “A’right then. As long as I’m not keepin’ you from anythin’.” 
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The swimming had gone well. Joel definitely had the body and stamina for it, and the more laps he did, the more confident he became with his strokes. You found yourself staring at him openly, stealing glances before you dipped below the water, hiding your embarrassment. 
However, he was still a beginner, and he’s knees began to ache after the tenth lap. He insisted that you continue without him as he sat at the side of the pool. You were hesitant at first but agreed, however, your cheeks burned from the mere prospect of that man watching you swim. 
When you’re done, you catch him staring at you with a fond smile lingering on his lips. You imagine that’s the same look he’d give you with the first rays of sunlight after a rather passionate night. 
Your pussy bottoms out, heat spreading between your legs. You inhale sharply, accidentally snorting a bit of water. It burns and your eyes water, but you manage to swallow down the frantic coughs that threaten to rip from your throat. 
“Sweet little mermaid.” he mutters as you approach, eyes following you with greed. Your breath hitches, and Joel loses his grounding for a moment. He clears his throat and looks away. “You swim well.” 
“Thanks,” you answer. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 
You ignore the heat that emanates from his thigh, your arms accidentally brushing against the hard muscle. You clumsily push yourself out of the pool and take a seat next to him. 
“How’re your knees feeling?” you ask. 
He lets out a hum, stretching his legs underwater. “They’re fine. Hopefully, this works.” 
“I’m sure it will.” 
"Even if it doesn't work out, at least I won't be going home empty-handed," he says with a smile. Your eyes flick to him and widen slightly. Very inappropriately, your nipples tighten. A blush starts from his neck and spreads across his broad chest, you notice the goosebumps bursting over his skin. He starts to fidget with his thumbs. “And by that, I mean that I got to meet you. I think I put that weirdly.” 
The world comes rushing back and you feel the soft waves of the pool on your skin again. You smile. Without thinking much, you playfully nudge his shoulder with your own. A soft chuckle parts his lips as he leans into you. Neither of you moves away from the other. 
“So,” you say, flinching at how high-pitched you sound. “Is there a Mrs. Joel?” 
He laughs. The sound reminds you of an open field with colorful flowers dancing side to side with the wind. Instinctively, you sigh, your lashes kissing your cheeks. 
“Nope,” he answers. “What about you?” 
You shake your head, “I’ve been single for two years.” 
“I find that hard to believe.” 
“Well,” you look ahead, the old couple you spotted before is getting out of the pool. “My heart got broken quite a few times. I think without noticing I closed myself off after my last relationship. I find it hard to open up now and—” you cut off, your gaze drifting back to him. You bark an uncomfortable-sounding laugh and drop your head to your chest. “Aaand, I have no idea why I’m telling you this. Sorry.” 
“Don’t apologize, darlin’. For what it’s worth, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either.” 
You grin and raise an eyebrow, “I find that hard to believe.” 
Joel smiles but it’s a soft one, like he’s remembering something—or in this case, someone. With unblinking eyes, you wait for him to elaborate. He notices your gaze, his smile stretches into a grin. 
“It’s not that interestin’ of a story,” he sighs. “I had my daughter when I was quite young. Mother left. And until Sarah went to college there was no one. After she left…I had a couple of flings but that’s pretty much it. Nothin’ long term.” 
“You have a daughter?” 
“Uh, yeah.” he answers, scratching the back of his head. You feel kind of bad now that you made him feel awkward. That wasn’t your intention at all. You’re surprised, but you find it to be sweet that he has a daughter. It must’ve been hard to raise her on his own. 
Before you can say anything, you sense him pulling back, both emotionally and physically. His shoulder isn’t pressed against yours anymore, the lack of contact makes you ache. He moves his legs languidly under the water, your gaze follows the movement. 
“I know it might be awkward. And not ideal. But I would love it if we could get to know each other more.” 
Your ears burning, you take his hand into yours, squeezing it tightly. If he’s surprised by your sudden gesture, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t look at you and you squeeze again, drawing his gaze back to you. 
“That’s not why I asked. That was probably a bit insensitive of me, I was just surprised and it came out wrong.” you let out a breath of relief when his thumb begins to draw slow circles over your skin. A shiver settles at the base of your spine. “And I would very much like to get to know you.” 
Your heart skips a beat at the way his entire face lights up. Looking at him proving to be similar to looking into the sun, you lower your gaze and grin. You feel dizzy. 
“Does that mean I can ask for your number sunshine?” he asks and leans closer. His warm breath fanning your cheek. 
You nod, “Of course.” 
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The pleasant buzz that thrums in your veins soon shift into one of simmering annoyance. Of course, someone took—no, stole—your umbrella. It’s just your luck. It’s raining cats and dogs and all you can do is watch the heavy drops collide with concrete as you wait outside. You look up to the sky, pleading that it stops. You love the rain, love listening to it, but only if you’re surrounded by your cozy home wrapped in a blanket. Or if you’re swimming. 
You could’ve handled a soft drizzle, sometimes you even enjoyed walking under the rain, but not this. You swear one of those drops alone can poke an eye out. It’s deafening. Thunder echoes, and you can’t help but flinch. Everything is so loud. Your body is refreshed, but at the same time, your muscles are drained from all the swimming. Exhausted from the workout and the excitement, all you want is a cozy nook with a steaming cup of tea and a good book.
You don’t have much else to do until the rain stops, therefore, you think of Joel. He’d been truly a splendid surprise. Sometimes life sucked but moments like those made it better. After exchanging numbers, he’d promised to call you as soon as he was back home. 
A smile tugs at your lips. You find it cute that he said he called instead of texting you. You’ll get to hear his voice which is a huge plus. 
You’re viciously ripped away from your thoughts when a loud honk echoes above the rain. With your hairs standing on edge, you see a truck with the window pulled down. You narrow your eyes. The rain and headlights create a thick fog, making it difficult to see clearly. 
“Joel?” you call out, hoping that you’re seeing right. 
“Hey,” he answers, leaning over and popping the door open for you. “Hop in.” 
You take the first step, a bit uncertain with your movements in fear that it might be an illusion created by the stormy night, but it’s not. The leather seat under you is solid and so is the man sitting next to you. You wipe your face with your sleeve. 
“Thanks. You basically saved my ass right now. Some asshole stole my umbrella.” 
He grins, “It’s the least I could do.” 
The rain pounds relentlessly against the windshield, the sound a chaotic symphony that drowns out everything else. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you flinch as a particularly loud crack splits through the air. You jump in your seat. Joel’s hand lands softly on your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You look at him, surprised, and he meets your gaze with a small smile.
“Is this alright?” he asks, his voice gentle as he squeezes.
You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch is warm and inviting. Like a soft caress that makes your skin tingle. You feel a sudden urge to lean into him, to climb on top of his lap, and allow his wide hands to roam all over your back. 
Joel starts the car and drives onto the road. The world outside is a blur of colors and lights. Neon signs flicker in the rain, casting a rainbow of colors on the wet pavement. The buildings are tall and imposing, like ancient giants looming over the city. The headlights of passing cars slice through the darkness, creating sharp streaks of light that dance across your vision.
You watch the world pass by in a daze, lost in thought. The rain is a soothing sound, like a lullaby that whispers you to sleep. Joel’s hand on your thigh is a comforting presence, grounding you in reality. 
The rain grows louder, the drops striking the windshield almost violently. Much to your disappointment, he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling a sudden emptiness. You open your eyes, watching as he shifts gears and maneuvers the car through the busy streets.
You lean your head against the window, watching the world outside blur by in a dizzying whirl. You don’t have much to say and that’s okay. His presence isn’t forcing you to make awkward small talk. You’re completely content just being here with him, a moment you’re positive that you’ll never forget, no matter which direction your relationship with him goes. 
When you finally pull up to your house, dread washes over you. You want to invite him inside for something warm, as a thank you for rescuing you from the rain. But you’re not entirely sure that you should. 
You push back your worries.
“This is me,” you break the silence. "Would you like to come inside for a bit? I have tea and coffee— or perhaps you would prefer wine to warm you up?" 
The last addition was meant as a joke, a little bit of humor to break the tension. Joel’s lips are tightly pressed together, his knuckles almost white from how hard he’s squeezing the steering wheel. After grueling moments of silence, he swallows and turns off the car. 
“Wine sounds great.” 
The sound of your front door closing behind you feels momentous. Ironically enough, you don’t get to open the bottle of wine. You kiss him first, and he follows, pushing you up against the wall with possessive hands. You barely manage to push the door closed. He’s all consuming. Inhaling your chlorine scented skin and drinking lust from your lips. He kneads your breasts in his large palms and you gasp into his mouth, he swallows the sound. Parting away, he licks the seam of your lips before leveling you with a steady gaze. 
“I promised myself to take this slow,” he rasps, panting heavily. When the first hints of laughter tickle the back of your throat, he takes hold of your hips and presses them firmly together. You feel the hardness of his length through the fabric of his jeans. Your eyes roll back. “That feels good don’t it—fuck—I just don’t want to fuck this up, you’re really nice and—” 
“Joel,” you say, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to meet your gaze. “Calm down. You’re not going to fuck this up. We’re in this together. I really want this, you do too. But if you want to go slow, have that wine, we’ll go slow. But I don’t want you to be stressed out of your mind no matter what you choose, okay?” 
He exhales a breath, deep and steady. “Okay,” he says, hands squeezing your hips. “Okay. Sorry ‘bout that. I hope I didn’t scare you off.” 
“You could never,” you say, brushing your lips together. “So, what do you wanna do?” 
“I think I want to show you to a good time, sweetheart.” 
“Meaning?” 
“I want to fuck you.” he swallows. “If you want it too.” 
“Oh, believe me. I do.” 
You catch the curve of a mischievous smile before he crashes into you, claiming your lips in a heady kiss. He pushes a leg between your thighs and your grind down, gasping at the friction. Warmth gathers under the tissue of your stomach, everlasting. It’s been so long since you felt like this. The heat of someone tearing you apart and pulling you back again. 
A pleasant tingle spreads from your legs up your spine. Joel licks into you, his tongue moving over yours. He nips at your bottom lip. You whine when he parts away, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He feels your pulse with his lips. An involuntary giggle leaves you as his mustache chafes the skin. He teeths at the flesh and you grind your hips down once more, wetness growing between your legs. 
“Sweetheart,” he breathes shakily. “Show me to the bedroom.” 
The trip to the bedroom is a disorienting one; A blur of limbs and kisses being traded with one another. You feel like a teenager, not being able to keep away not even for a second. You don’t bother to close the bedroom door. Joel pulls your shirt off, your ears left ringing at the force of it while your hands fumble with his zipper. Joel chuckles and bats your hands away. The way you furrow your brows goes unnoticed. He dips his head, closing his lips around the tight nipple. 
Your legs start to shake. He flicks his tongue, the tight nub pebbling swiftly. Your head falls back, a deep moan coming from the back of your throat. He sucks and moves his jaw, applying pressure. While one hand rests over the curve of your waist, the other promptly toys with your unattended nipple, pinching and twisting until it’s hard and aching. 
“Shit—Joel—” you gasp, voice quivering. “It’s been a while, it feels so good. Fuck.” 
He parts away from your chest, the tip of his tongue swirling deftly around the areola. His warm breath makes you shiver. “That’s okay honey, I’ve got you.” 
“Take this off,” you mumble in a daze, pulling at the hem of his shirt. You bend your knees to cup his erection, it pulses under your palm. “And take these off too. I want you in my mouth.” 
“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’d like that, huh? My cock in your mouth, cummin’ down your throat as you wrap them pretty lips around me—what a sight it would be.” 
“Fuck yes,” you choke out, gently pushing him towards the bed. 
You’re almost delusional in the way you speak and move. He’d painted you a picture you so desperately wanted to make into reality. You tug off his shirt as he kicks off his jeans along with his underwear. A sharp exhale parts your lips when you feel his dripping cock against your lower stomach. Heavy and hot, pressing against your skin. You wrap your fingers around the base and they barely close around him. The tips of your ears burn. 
“J-Joel, oh my god,” you say with awe. “I-I don’t know if I can take you all.” 
His fingers touch the back of your neck and he pulls you between his legs as the two of you tumble onto the bed. He gently squeezes, your body melting at the touch. His lips touch your ear. 
“Sure you can, sunshine. We’ll just take it nice and slow, a’right? I’ll fuck this pretty little cunt with just the tip if I have to, it feels good all the same.” his thumb traces your bottom lip, and slowly, he pushes the digit into your mouth. Your eyes fluttering, you suck his thumb. “Just get my dick nice and wet with this dirty tongue of yours. Been twitchin’ since you uttered the words.”  
He pops out his thumb and leaves wet streaks across your cheek. You move down his body, dragging your nails down the swell of his stomach as you get closer and closer to his length. Joel hisses when you wetly kiss the tip, a bead of precum forming. You wrap one hand around the base and rest the other over his stomach, fingers caressing the coarse hairs that form a sinful trail. 
“You’re so big,” you whisper, lips dancing over the length of his throbbing cock. He moans. “That swimsuit of yours doesn’t do you justice at all.” 
“If you continue to talk like that I’m going to bust,” he chokes, hands fisting the sheets. “Please just—” he swallows. “Just stop toyin’ with me.” 
Answering him with a throaty hum, you dip your tongue into the slit, groaning at the taste of him. His cock twitches against your lips, smearing precum over the tender swell of it. Parting your mouth wide, you take the bulbous head between your lips and flatten your tongue. You feel a vein that curls underneath his length. You groan and take him deeper. He’s been truly blessed, the width stretching you wide, forcing saliva to dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Slick glistening at the insides of your thighs. 
You’re still worried about not being able to take him all. You want to feel every inch of him buried deep inside, and even though Joel assured you that it would be okay, you still want this to go perfectly. It’s been a long time for you both, you want it to feel good for him too. 
“Deeper,” he croaks out and when you look up, you find those gorgeous, dazed out, brown eyes looking down at you. “Can you?” 
Your lids flutter heavily. Nodding, you force your head down, your chin straining as you take him halfway. Your vision blurs with tears. Spit oozes down his length, your throat convulsing at the pressure. 
“You’re takin’ it so well,” he praises through grit teeth, his southern drawl deeper and more noticeable than before. “So fuckin’ well. You feel so good—I ain’t gonna last sweetheart.” 
Encouraged by his sudden honesty, you mentally grin. And with more fervor than before, you bounce your head up and down while stroking the rest with your hand. Briefly you remove your lips, swipe your palm over the head and move it back down, coating the rest of him with slick. You take him again, his thighs tightening around your frame, shaking uncontrollably as he forces his hips to remain still. 
Moans echo from the back of Joel’s throat, filling the room with his deep cadence. He reaches out for your hand and locks your fingers together, holding you and guiding your hand further up his stomach. You’re a bit unbalanced now. His cock spears almost painfully down your throat. While trying to limit yourself with only the half of his length, his cock twitches, and throbs. You repeatedly swallow around him, your hand starting to shake. 
Large drops of precum coat your tongue and go down your throat, his grip on your hand painfully tight. You breathe heavily through your nose. He’s about to come. With a ferality you haven’t felt with anyone before, you push apart your legs and force yourself down against the sheets. The soft fabric doing little when it grazes your aching clit. You moan around him. 
Then you find yourself empty. A gasp rips from your throat at the way Joel pulls you off his cock, breathing in heavy pants. Your gaze drops to his cock. The head a beautiful shade of red, glistening with precome and spit. You lick your lips. 
“Sorry,” he grunts, pulling you so that you’re straddling his waist. He pushes himself up by the elbows, face only an inch away from yours. “I didn’t wanna come just yet. Need to feel you around me, sunshine.” 
He closes the distance and claims you with a devout kiss. He tastes himself on your tongue, hips jerking up in a weak attempt to seek you out. You breathe him in. The scent of chlorine and something so undeniable Joel fills your lungs. 
“Don’t keep me waiting then,” you grin against his lips. He mimics your expression grinning as he lays back down. He guides you to raise your hips, and briefly, worry crosses your face. 
A question quickly follows, “What’s wrong?” 
“I…fuck, it’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.” but of course, he doesn’t let go and fixes you a look that has you spilling your guts. “It’s just been a while and well. I’ve never actually done it like…this.” 
“You never rode someone before?” 
You shake your head and bite your bottom lip. Frowning, he touches the abused flesh with his thumb and tugs it away, smoothing it with the pad of his finger. 
“We can switch positions. It’s okay.” 
“But I want to try it.” your words coming out in a rush, it’s followed by a nervous laughter. “I always did, but my partners usually had other plans. And after a while, I just generally chickened out and stopped asking. I got embarrassed.” 
“Oh, honey.” 
Your eyes widen upon feeling his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. His hand cradles the back of your head and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. You kiss the skin. Warmth blossoming in your chest. Both of you suspended in the moment, breathing each other in and out. Soon, his fingers trace a path down your spine, and a chill spreads at the end of your back. 
“Believe me,” he mutters, you feel the movement of his jaw. “I would want nothin’ more than to have you on top of me, takin’ you deep. I’m sorry those assholes made you feel otherwise.” 
You choke out a sound, smiling and shaking your head. “It’s not that they were assholes—well, maybe some of them—but maybe I just wasn’t good at expressing myself. Or I just didn’t look…” you clear your throat, his arms tighten around you, forcing the air out of your lungs. “Anyway, it’s not important.” 
“You express yourself fine if you ask me.” his thumb skims over your clit and you gasp. The digit slides between your folds with ease, he hums in approval. “And it looks like your body is expressin’ itself quite well too.” 
An understanding without words forms between your two. He cups your ass and you lift yourself up by holding onto his broad shoulders. Joel jerks himself with one hand before he motions you to lower yourself. Despite how soaking wet you are, the stretch still makes you wince. You continue a bit further, having to stop when it proves to be more painful than pleasurable. Sliding his one hand back to your front, he leisurely circles around your clit. You clench and dig your nails into his shoulders. 
“That’s it, go slow sweetheart. We have all the time in the world. You’re doin’ so good for me. Spreading yourself around my cock like that.” 
Feeling yourself becoming loose, you sink further down, only having to stop again a few inches later. You groan in frustration and Joel puts his mouth on your breasts, sucking. 
You draw in a long breath, “Is that all of it?”
Joel looks up and allows himself to smile. 
“Well, nearly. Just a bit more.” 
His mouth moves down and captures your nipple between his lips. Your walls flutter around him, adjusting to his size. With a moan, you sink down completely, his hips flush against yours. Joel breaks away from your tender skin, both of you moaning loudly in unison. His head falls back against the bedpost, staring at you between heavy lids. He looks completely blissed out. 
Wanting more of the debouched expression, you ever so slightly move up your hips and sit back down again. His eyes squeeze shut, his throat trembling with a wrecked groan. You’re not doing any better, your eyes rolling back as your muscles start to spasm. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet. Shit. Can I move, sunshine? Please?” 
“God yes,” you breathe out, your head spinning. His hands cup your rear, helping you to lift halfway off his cock before lowering you again. Electricity runs up your spine. Your cry out his name, pulsing around him uncontrollably. “J-Joel, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” you say apologetically. 
“That’s okay,” he groans, voice hoarse. “I ain’t gonna last long either.” 
The two of you capture a soft rhythm that works for the both of you. Joel guides the sloppy roll of your hips, and you do your best to move up and down his cock. Your legs aching due to the swimming. You want to go faster, the burning between your legs growing with every grind of your hips. There’s an itch deep inside. An inch that you can’t seem to scratch with the way you’re moving. You whimper and fix Joel a pleading look. His cock twitches. 
“You want it harder?” he rasps, lashes fluttering. 
“Yes,” you exhale. “Give it to me, Joel. I want you to fuck me hard with this big cock of yours.” you make a show of rolling your tongue and pressing your hips flush against him, grinding yourself into his pelvis. 
“The mouth on you, Jesus.” he drawls but with a smile. Your heart skips a beat, a grin of your own touching your lips. 
You’re confused when Joel sucks two fingers into his mouth. Not that you’re complaining. You see the pink of his tongue, the glistening spit that coats his thick fingers. Pulling them out, Joel massages your asscheeks and spreads them, you moan as the open air hits your other hole. He brushes two wet fingers over the rim, making you quiver. 
“Feels good?” 
You nod and he slips one finger, your entire body jolts, your breath catching in your throat. However, you don’t have time to focus on the new sensation. Joel presses his feet into the mattress and with fervor, he starts fucking up into you. Railing you until you’re gasping for air and left feeling nothing else but the heavy stroke of his cock. You shout his name, your lungs burn. 
“That’s it make a mess of me, darlin’. Such a good fuckin’ girl. All you need is my help isn’t it? Look at you, doin’ so well for me.” the words he continues to mutter force out a visceral reaction from you. You claw at his chest. Dragging them down as his cock spears into you over and over. The slick sounds echoing throughout the room. You notice him watching where you two connect, he looks hypnotized. His lips parting as he watches his cock disappear into your wet cunt. 
He pushes his finger in deeper and you’re suddenly aware of how full you feel. Your arms that keep you upright buckle and you fall down, covering him like a blanket. An apology touches your lips, but before you can, Joel’s lips are already on your temple, kissing and whispering praise all the while continuing to fuck you senseless. He pulls out his finger and slightly lifts your hips for a better angle. You whine at the loss and hear him chuckle. 
“Another time, sunshine.” 
Your walls start to spasm and contract, his hips start to stutter. His strong steady strokes becoming sloppy and rushed, he pushes you down against him rolling his hips and grinding deeper into you. Fuck. Your head is spinning violently. Your cunt dripping and making a mess of his cock. He rubs into you again, the dark hairs that crown his length stimulating your throbbing clit. 
A silent scream shakes your chest. You see white before you squeeze him tight, the force of it making his breath hitch. You gush around him. Slick rolling down his cock and seeping into the sheets. You don’t even notice the wet tears smeared all over your face as you nuzzle him. Waves of pleasure wash over you again and again. Leaving you shaking and panting for air. Joel holds you still, his hands comforting against your heated skin. 
Your jaw goes slack when he gently thrusts up again, shushing you when you let out a whine. 
“Where do you want me?” 
It takes you a while to understand the question. Lifting your head, you give him a blank stare. His eyes glimmer with amusement, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. 
“Look at you,” he coos. “Pretty little thing completely fucked out. You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 
You’re pretty sure you actually purr at his words. You leisurely smile. You lift your hips and push them back down, both of you groaning in delight. He keeps uttering pretty from under his breath, his own composure breaking down. Another orgasm rolls over you, albeit much softer this time, like a fire warming your skin. You sigh happily, kissing him on the lips. 
“Where?” he asks, a bit more desperate this time. 
“My mouth.” 
“Oh, fuck.” 
Everything is sloppy and uncoordinated. You’re not even sure how you make your way down between his legs. You’re still throbbing when you suck on the tip, your eyes closing as you taste the mixture of you and himself. You take him as deep as you can, feeling him at the back of your throat. He holds your head but doesn’t force you to the more. 
“Sweetheart, move your tongue.” 
Your skin prickles at how hoarse he sounds. You happily obliged, stroking the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue. He sucks in a sharp breath, his chest expanding, and on the exhale, he lets out the loudest moan of the night. It comes from the depths of his lungs. His hips jerk, finally spilling down your throat, you swallow him greedily, your walls pulsing with a need to be stretched again. 
He comes and comes and comes. There’s so much of it. It floods your mouth, trickling down your chin. You breathe heavily. His cock throbs on your tongue and god you love the feeling. 
“Fuuuuuuuuuck, that felt so good.” his hands fall limp to his side. With a grin, you release his cock and swallow once more, more audibly this time. His dark gaze drops to your lips. He shakily wipes the come that spilled from your lips, popping it back into your mouth. You lick at the digit eagerly. “I should thank whoever it was that stole your umbrella,” he mumbles. 
“We should get them a cake,” you tease, kissing the empty patch on his beard. “So…should we get cleaned up and then…talk?” 
He squeezes your hips and then follows the curve of your spine. “Sounds like a plan, sunshine.” 
You end up sharing that bottle of wine after all. 
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panlight · 2 months
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I know I've mentioned this before, but sometimes I think it's a blessing that SM hadn't really read/watched much Vampire Stuff before she wrote Twilight.
Don't get me wrong--there are definitely times where I'm very frustrated by this, where she misses a key moment that someone more genre savvy would have taken full advantage of. The main character being turned into a vampire in such a clinical way removes so much of the intimacy and eroticism of vampire lit, for example. Or the way she didn't give her vampires any weaknesses and how that makes it so much harder to raise the stakes and put them in any real danger. Or to feel bad for their cursed existence because like . . . it actually seems not that bad without all the weaknesses and limitations.
But It's a blessing in a way because it allowed her to come up with characters like Emmett, Esme, and Carlisle. MOST of the sympathetic, 'good' vampires in fiction end up being like Edward. This brooding vampire who hates what he is and probably has some kind of Dark Past (Edward's vigilante era in his own opinion) but wants to be good but oh, the endless midnights! And obviously that's a compelling story; these tropes are used so often because people ENJOY them.
But then you have Emmett, who is a 'good' vampire too and just . . . doesn't care. He's nice. He'll protect you. But he's also killed people. Whoops. Probably felt bad about it at the time. Probably still feels a little bad if he thinks about it now. But he's not brooding about it. He's generally pretty happy and fun and doesn't take things too seriously. Normally this would be a 'bad' vampire or at least morally gray vampire but as written by SM, he's clearly intended to be a good guy. Just one of the bros who happens to be a vampire.
Then there's Carlisle, who had every reason to be the brooding vampire who hates himself (was actively hunting vampires when he was turned! son of a pastor! alone for centuries!) but instead he . . . just got on with it. Also I think his success with vegetarianism is in itself kind of unusual and refreshing for the genre. I know lots of people think he'd be more interesting if he had killed people but as someone who read Twilight during a marathon read of other vampire fiction the fact that he HADN'T was actually what made him interesting to me. It was bizarrely . . . hopeful? It's the kind of thing that someone actually vampire genre savvy probably wouldn't have done.
Likewise Esme just being this white suburban midwestern vampire mom and playing it 100% straight. This isn't some commentary on how vampirism is a shallow perversion of motherhood or whatever, Esme IS the mom. She does mom things. It's taken seriously. She's not some sinister Other Mother, she is genuinely loving and gentle and motherly and again, I feel like someone genre savvy wouldn't have played it that way.
Anyway, yes sometimes I long for more typical vampire stuff in Twilight, but sometimes the lack of genre knowledge worked out in its favor.
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doobea · 8 months
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BEHIND CLOSED QUARTERS - SAE ITOSHI
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synopsis: Sae decides to find a roommate when he moves to Spain. Being physical with said roommate is the last thing he would expect to happen.
contents: in which he moves to Spain much later on, afab!reader, fem!reader is sexually active and extroverted, sae is just there vibing until he's not, explicit content (mentions of voyeurism, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, fingering, he calls u a slut once :( , vaginal penetration, unprotected whoops), strangers to fwb, kinda narration heavy, word vomity, mdni word count: 2.5K a/n: bro this is literally just pure smut and for my sae brain rot so look away >:(( @saeshimii i hope u enjoy this happy meal
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Sae decides to move to Spain when he receives an exclusive club offer.
And since Madrid isn't exactly an affordable city, he decides to look for a roommate. He spends about a week looking for something within his price range and a place with a reasonable distance from his training grounds. Sae had set his preferences looking for someone who's neat, easy to communicate with, and has a similar schedule since he wakes up early. So, when he looks within those parameters, he stumbles upon your listing and sends you a message.
Sae had no issue with having a female roommate, not that it really matters, since he plans to spend most of his free time either out of the apartment or in his room. The two of you seem to stay cordial over emails, not overly creeped out by each other, and you promise that his room will be cleaned and ready to move into as soon as Sae lands in the country.
One thing that you did warn is that you often have hookups over, but you assure him that the bedrooms are far apart enough, with added insulation, that he shouldn't worry about the volume. Sae didn't care, you have every right to do whatever you wanted, just as long it didn't interrupt his own plans.
You're a lot more chatty in person, he thinks. Warm, welcoming, and likes to overshare a tad bit for his liking, but he doesn't stop you. You two spend the first night out in the streets of Madrid, out of your hospitality. Apparently, you are also temporarily living in Spain as part of a work transfer and have been living in the country for a little bit over a year now. So, for the first month, he approaches you for transit tips and local stops.
Afterward, Sae doesn't spend a lot of time with you through the following months because he's either training, playing for his team, or sleeping. As the new season approaches, the two of you will occasionally catch up through small talk over the dinner table, though it would mainly be you talking about the latest gossip at your work. Sae will soon take notice that you keep your intimate life rather private. Sometimes he'll catch a glance of an extra pair of shoes by the doorway when he gets up in the morning and, occasionally, he'll bump into your hookups in the hallway asking for directions to the bathroom. But, nevertheless, you keep the conversation rather PG and stick with anecdotes about your day.
It isn't until the second week of Spring that he accidentally catches you with one of your one-night stands. Sae would wake up on the living room couch in the middle of the night, oversleeping his daily one-hour nap due to fatigue from his recent matches, and try to retreat to his room located down the hallway past yours.
He freezes when he hears a loud, wet sound from your bedroom. Sae isn't the type to eavesdrop when not needed, especially when it comes to people outside of his very limited social circle. But he finds himself standing there and listens for a moment until he hears you moaning something to your latest partner.
"Slow down, not too hard. My roommate might hear us."
Sae wasn't sure why, but hearing you say that made him more flustered than he's ever gotten in his life. He's half debating whether or not to stay and listen, hands hovering over his awakening heat. Another stifled moan from you and Sae decides to throw the rest of his morals out the window. He's overheated, now fully aware that his length is coming to life alarmingly fast, his boxers now uncomfortably tight, and the hot mess of arousal churning in his stomach.
He shuts his eyes as another round of your moans emit behind the door, his hands immediately flying to his sweats, exposing his raging head to the cool air. Your moans are similar to the way you talk and laugh, loud and honest. They're not the overdone type of moans that he's heard from the few erotica videos he's seen — they're raw and real, which in itself makes it all more enjoyable than any sexual act he's ever witnessed.
He fists his length to the sounds of sloppy, wet thrusts and bites down his t-shirt to compress back his low groans. His mind wanders to the image of your naked body, head thrown back against the pillows, and legs spread for him and not the guy you were currently fucking. Sae might not have a high body count compared to the rest of his teammates, but he knows he can make your vocals twice as loud.
"—I'm close! So close!" Your sweet mewls make him physically shudder under his own touch as he pumps faster, trying to imagine the lewd expression you're currently making.
Sae finishes after what felt like an eternity when you finally succumb to your own end and he makes sure to not leave a mess right outside your door. He quickly wipes up the white slick on his stomach with his shirt and finally retreats to his room when he hears you asking the guy for a wet towel. Funny enough, Sae would've prepared everything beforehand to make sure that you didn't even need to ask.
Sae rolls onto his back in bed, hands coming up to cover his eyes as he heaves a heavy sigh at the action he's just committed. Guilty is what he should be feeling right now. But he's feeling everything but guilt. Maybe this is just what he needed.
The night slips into morning and, for some reason, catching you in the act helps loosen Sae's tongue. He brings it up over breakfast, as if he was announcing the weather, and watches your face go from bliss to embarrassment and to unashamed. Your shamelessness makes Sae feel a bit more comfortable.
"Care to repeat that again?"
Sae sips nonchalantly on his coffee and repeats, "Your one-night stand seemed threatened by me this morning." He replies cooly. Sae had bumped into him as he was getting ready for his daily jog. Apparently, your one-night stand was taken aback that you were living with a male. Let alone an athlete.
"Ah," You make it seem like it was expected and stir your own cup of coffee around. "He needs a lot of reassurance." You answer honestly.
"Maybe pick a better choice in partners." Sae lazily suggests and you merely laugh in response.
"And what about you? Have you been seeing anyone since moving here?"
Sae shakes his head. "Don't have the time or energy to."
Your eyes sparkle as you wave a playful finger in the air. "People always say to watch out for the quiet ones."
A half scoff escapes his lips, though the thought does run true in his case. "How about you watch out for the type of people you bring back here?"
You laugh heartily, "I'll keep it in mind."
Another month creeps by and Sae has gotten your sleeping pattern down to the bone. At least twice a week, you'll bring home someone around the time when you think he's asleep. After ten minutes, Sae would show up, back slack against your doorframe, with his throbbing arousal tightly wrapped around his grasp. He always makes sure to cum at the same time as you, which ranges from anywhere between fifteen minutes to almost thirty. Each time he's gotten better at timing his little escape before you notice that he was even there in the first place.
During some nights, when you didn't bring home a partner, he catches glimpses of you masturbating with your one of many vibrators. It appears that you become rather forgetful of locking your doors whenever you perform a solo act, but Sae doesn't mind it one bit. Not when he has the pleasure to catch you playing with yourself mindlessly through the slightest of cracks from the door.
He has gotten a loose general idea of where you like being touched, what names you like being called, and what positions you love being fucked in. All this information and imagery is stored deeply in his brain all while he loves pretending to be the aloof, innocent roommate the very next morning.
That is until you catch him one night.
Sae had been too caught up in his own little built-up pleasure that he didn't hear your footsteps until it was too late. You swing the door open, poised in a tank top and pair of white cotton panties, and almost shriek at the sight of him pumping his arousal away. Keyword: almost.
"I knew it was you."
Again, Sae believes he should be feeling guilty, now caught red-handed, that he's shamelessly jacking off to you, his roommate, but he doesn't. Because the sultry look that you flash him tells him all that he needs to know.
He lets you take a step forward. Your expression looks more beautiful and vulnerable than he could ever imagine from behind the walls. One tug at his collar and Sae finds himself bending easily at your beck and call, crashing into your lips in a suffocating kiss as if you've also been wanting this to happen. Instinctively, Sae's hands find their way to the curve of your hips and squeeze at your flesh down to the plump of your ass, all while pulling you roughly against his needy body.
You make a low sound of approval and rub your bare thighs against his probing length that's now wet with pre. Sae takes this sign to hoist you up in his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around his firm waist, and he smirks against your lips as you try and catch your breath. The journey to your bed is a short one. Once settled down, Sae discards his sweats fully and swipes off his shirt in a single motion before towering over your flushed figure. He feels like he could cum on the spot at just the sight of you, but where would the fun in that be?
"You're so fucking loud, you know that?" He practically purrs right against your ears, teeth grazing against your neck and hands wandering to your clothed chest.
You try and squeeze your legs together in return but Sae keeps them propped open. "Maybe I was putting on a show for you, ever thought about that?" You only wince in response as Sae nips playfully at your ear before marring your flesh with hickey after hickey along the line of your neck.
His hands leave your chest and tug your soaked panties down to your ankles. A sigh of relief rushes out of you as your dripping heat is exposed to the air. His mouth leaves contact with your neck. Sae wants to see your face, wants to desperately watch your face contort in pleasure as his fingers enter you for the first time. And you didn't disappoint.
"You're fucking soaked down there." Sae marvels at the sight of your entrance sucking his digits in with ease. "What a slut."
He flattens his palm against your throbbing clit with each thrust of his calloused fingers as they stretch out your twitching heat. The moans you make are incomparable to the muffled versions he's used to. They're broken, uncontrolled, intense, and undoubtedly louder than what your previous partners could do. To say he enjoys this sight is an understatement.
Sae might just become addicted to the way you squirm against his touch and how you leave bright, red crescent marks against his thighs. He loves feeling the muscles deep within you contracting around his digits at each probing motion. And, the best part? You crying out his name.
"Sae—Sae, please!"
His voice is unforgiving as he pulls out, almost grinning at the lewd, wet sounds from your slit. "Not yet."
A desperate whimper slips from your parted lips as Sae slowly and deliberately rolls his erection forward, just barely brushing across the heat of your entrance, hands now finding solitude on your thighs.
"Ask me nicely," Sae whispers. "I'll make sure to take care of you."
You lose your last remaining composure under him, tears pool at the ends of your eyes, and you throw your arms around his neck in a frantic motion. "Please make me cum. Fuck me like you hate me."
A dark glint flutters across his eyes. "That's it." Sae holds the back of your head to keep your mouth planted against his, muffling your loud cry when he slides into you, stretching your heat slowly. "I'm going to take care of you and make sure you only think about me."
Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back and tightening ever so slightly to keep him as deep as possible. You manage to mumble out his name like a prayer, "You make me feel so full."
A single snap from his hips knocks the air out of you. Soon, the only sounds filling the bedroom are of your wet slick masked with the hoarse rasps from your throat. He presses his lips against your collarbone, then up your neck until your mouths are crushed together in a desperate attempt of thrashing tongues and lips.
Sae feels one of your hands tug at his locks and the other claws at his back. He can tell that you're close. Sae pulls away from the kiss and removes the hand behind your head and lets it slip between your bodies, thumb immediately finding solitude on your swollen nerve. He presses down gently and rubs it in circles until your whole body is arching under him.
"Go on ahead," Sae coos and traces a free hand across the curves of your cheeks. "Go and cum for me. Make a mess."
Your entire body tightens as you give out a final cry of his name into his shoulder, nails sinking deep into his skin that he's almost positive that it broke skin. With your arousal pulsing around his length, Sae's thrusts soon become erratic, throwing away his calculative motions and judgments as his final movements are nothing but punishment into your dripping entrance and he spills, painting your fleshy insides in strips of white.
You're a mess. Hair in disarray, drool seeping out of the corner of your gaping lips, eyes half-lidded, and tears of pleasure streaming down your flushed face. Sae thinks it's beautiful that he can make you like this.
He pulls out almost immediately, watching as his seed pours from your slick folds and spills down your thighs and onto the bedding. Sae doesn't give you a chance to talk, because he knows exactly what you're going to say next. Within a few seconds, Sae returns from the bathroom with a warm, damp towel and gently starts cleaning up the combined mess at your entrance.
He thinks if he's going to spend his next few years in Spain, he might as well spend it like this.
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yanderehsr · 8 months
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I'm curious of Dan Heng reacting to Paimon reader? Like how does he react to it and also how does Paimon Reader react seeing his Imbibitor Lunae form considering for her despite Dan Heng looks different she still sees him as Dan Heng which she isn't aware she accidentally made him more obssessed whoops. Bonus Paimon reader was too focus on his tail and Trailblazer is just looking at envy while Dan Heng looks happy he got Paimon reader's attention just by using his tail
Yeah sure, hope you'll enjoy😄
Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour
Imbibitor Lunae is naturally more possessive so as soon as you call him Dan Heng he immidiatly wraps his tail around you, you are just so precious, of course you would know he is the same old Dan Heng, you are just great like that.
He notices that you stare at his tail alot, it's cute that you find it cool, Dan Heng lets you pat his tail and touch his horns. He notices the jealous looks comming from his friend and he sends a smug look back.
His attention goes back to you, you are just too adorable, he would take you away to a safe place and never let you leave, too bad the others are around you.
"You may touch them as much as you want, as long as you keep your attention on me"
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wxnheart · 1 year
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𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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note: the idea for this came up out of the blue and I was encouraged to write it so here you go. the premise is simple: what picture of your significant other do you have as your lock screen? as always, I hope y'all enjoy it! And now we have the sequel!
Captain John Price - About as sickeningly sweet vanilla as you can get. Your lock screen is a picture of him geared up, signature hat on, holding a lit cigar, and smiling at the camera like he won the lottery. You always told him his smile was radiant. Seeing him smile makes your day.
Gaz - Your lock screen is a picture of him hard at work. He's reading something and boy, is he concentrating hard. He doesn't believe you when you tell him that he scrunches his nose up while he's thinking. Well, now you have proof.
Soap - You swoon every time your phone lights up. It's a photo of him flexing one arm, smiling, and winking into the camera. You managed to get him after he finished working out and getting those gains. You also may or may not have jumped his bones right after taking said pic. Gah, you fucking love this man...
Ghost - LMAO. So you were trying to be discreet about it (emphasis on the word trying) and capture Ghost just standing there, gun in his hands, minding his business. Menacingly. Motherfucker got your ass because just as soon as you pressed the button, he looked right at you. So now you have a picture of Ghost standing there, gun in hand, minding his business and glaring staring at you. Menacingly. Reactions to your lock screen are either "Holy shit, who the FUCK is that?" or "Wow, he looks cool." You can only sigh adoringly every time you see it. That's Babygurl for you.
Alejandro Thee Stallion - You have a picture of him running a hand through his hair with his eyes closed. No, it isn't intentional; he was actually scratching his head. BUT, it was just the perfect moment and hell yeah, you rejoiced when you got it! He looks modelesque and orgasmic in it. You showed it to Rudy and now Alejandro is wondering why Rudy looks like he wants to laugh every time he sees him.
Rudy - It's actually a picture of you and him together being all cute and shit. And that actually wasn't your first choice. It was originally a picture of him knocked the hell out, bundled up in his favorite blanket, and having the best nap of his life. He looks so boyishly cute when he sleeps. Rudy actually had to put on the puppy dog eyes so you wouldn't make that your lock screen because he's had that blanket as long as he's known Alejandro (who has also seen said blanket) and apparently there's a betting pool going around in Los Vaqueros around the fact that Rudy has yet to get rid of it. It's a long story.
König - You actually have a picture of him sitting down against a wall, arms on his knees looking cool as a cucumber. He's really just chillin', taking in the atmosphere, and staring into space. Looks badass doing it, too. His eyes are pretty entrancing and the picture really puts into perspective how tall König is because he absolutely does not look it when he's sitting down. You also realized that he likes to make himself comfortable in confined spaces. Huh. Wonder if he's aware of that, too. He caught a glimpse of your lock screen by accident and whether you know it or not, he's flattered that he's the first thing you see when you look at your phone.
Phillip Graves - You got a picture of him doing his best Zoolander impression (Blue Steel, y'all) because you forgot to turn the flash off. Whoops. Don't you dare show that to the rest of Shadow Company. Spoiler Alert: You... kinda-sorta-really do. Whoops.
Valeria Garza - One word. Badass. She looks like a fucking badass on your lock screen. Those toned arms and tattoos are out for the world to see. Windswept tresses. And she's smirking at you, too? Oh, baby! You're falling in love all over again.
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peacefulpianist · 9 months
Text
The Green Dress
Loki x Fem. Reader (no y/n)
Wow hi everyone, I can't say I ever thought I would be doing this, but I've written something! I've been an avid reader for a few years now and have finally convinced myself to give it a shot. Any constructive criticism is more than welcome, but please do bear in mind this is the first thing I've written since year 8 English that isn't an academic paper of sorts. Anyway I hope you enjoy!
I'm tagging a few members of the SAS who I think may like this? But if you want to be removed please do let me know - no hard feelings at all : @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @wheredafandomat @liminalpebble
Description: When Stark invites you last minute to one of his infamous parties, you've not got many options on hand to wear until Nat suggests you wear the green dress you had bought months ago. Perhaps it will be enough to inspire a certain god to finally make his move.
w/c: 4.2k whoops I didn't intend for it to be nearly this long
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“How many times do I need to tell you that you absolutely can not do that Stark!” You exclaimed in exasperation over the cluttered lab table once more.
“But if I just ignored that little thing-” the glare you sent from over the top of your glasses quickly shut his remark down before it could continue any further. Looking contrite, but rather worryingly still determined, Stark pushed back from the table, going slightly further than expected in his chair and trying to style it out as intentional as he almost collided into several rather important projects. 
“Well since you’ve thoroughly pooped on that party Brainiac, I’m declaring we call it a day here, and hey speaking of parties, you are coming later aren’t you?” He asked whilst trying not to fall of his chair and catching a rather dangerous looking item falling off one of the nearby tables he had knocked into. 
A wave of panic washed through you at the mention of the event later; you had been hoping that as no one had specifically invited you to it, only mentioned it in passing, that you would be able to give it a miss unnoticed. It wasn’t that you disliked Starks events or even parties in general, you just happened to be aware of who else would be there and definitely couldn’t trust yourself to keep up a front with the copious alcohol that would no doubt find its way into your system. Not that you were totally innocent in how it found its way there. You had been hoping to avoid a direct invitation like this, purely because you had a real issue saying no to people, especially those you liked and admired. It was because of this, and only this - not the fact you would get to see Loki in one of his impeccably tailored suits again as a helpful voice in your head supplied, that you found yourself blurting out the following. 
“Uh yeah sure, of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world boss!” 
You had hoped that it had come out in a convincing tone, but the slight frown emerging on Starks face said otherwise. However, as quick as it had appeared on his face it was gone, replaced by a trademark smile as he slapped his thighs and stood.
“Well then, you better be off to prepare and polish your elbows, or whatever it is you ladies manage to do to fill so much time getting ready before these events,” his face quickly faltered after realising what he had actually just said and quickly followed up with “not saying of course that it isn’t absolutely worth it, especially if Pepper asks”. 
In an effort to allow Tony to leave the interaction without digging himself an even deeper hole, you stood too, gathering your bag as you went, giving a slightly awkward wave over your shoulder as you walked out the door. 
It was only when you made it back to your room upstairs that you fully understood what you had actually agreed to. Not only were you going to have to be in the same room as Loki, desperately trying to hide your feelings towards him, whilst watching him flirt with practically everyone in attendance, but also work out what the hell you were going to wear to a party at such short notice. Unlike many of the other inhabitants of the tower, your wardrobe wasn’t exactly equipped for these kinds of events. You had always preferred to skip out on anything that required this level of formal wear, the comfort of your staple jeans and a hoody was something you had always chosen over the tighter fitting, more formal attire required at Stark’s parties. 
In a somewhat unhelpful move, you decided that putting off the outfit dilemma was the best course of action, as a frantic full-body shower was needed, and of course there was no point choosing an outfit before you’d done your hair and makeup after the shower as well. You had told yourself that the outfit choices could be mulled over during this time as well, but realistically knew that you were just lying to yourself and would inevitably put it off until the last moment. 
A frantic search of your wardrobe, which involved many an outfit being taken out, only to be thrown into the rejection pile on the floor moments later, left you coming up short and in the middle of a ring of discarded outfits whilst still in just your towel. You sank to the floor, just staring despondently at the chaos around you, contemplating whether Tony would actually notice if you didn’t go after all. 
It was in that state exactly that Nat found you minutes later after she had knocked, not waited for an answer and entered anyway, only to stop in her tracks and abandon whatever purpose she had come with upon seeing you in such a state. 
“Well that outfit is sure to grab everyone’s attention, not what I would choose personally but good for you girl!” Nat said with a smirk, leaning on your doorframe.
“Don’t even start with that right now, I wasn’t planning on going to this until and hour ago, and I appear to have greatly underestimated my wardrobe deficiencies. Some actual help right now would be greatly appreciated.” Your reply came from the floor, all hope of being able to avoid Stark’s shindig fading with the sound of the door closing behind Natasha. 
“I’m sure your so called deficiency isn’t nearly as bad as you’re making it out to be,” her voice somewhat muffled as she rooted through what was left of your clothes in you’re wardrobe. 
“I mean look right here, what was wrong with this option, it’s even green, perfect to catch you-know-who’s attention!” The smile on her face dropped when she turned to face you, brandishing the green dress you had bought months ago on a whim when out with some friends, only to realise you would never be comfortable enough to wear it out in public when you had tried it on at home later that evening. 
“Woah, what’s so wrong with this one that it makes you pull that face? It’s a stunning dress I can’t see what you could possibly have against this one, its perfect for tonight.” Nat questioned with a confused frown, after seeing the vehement refusal on your face at the suggestion. 
“It is a beautiful dress, just not on me, I don’t-” before you could even finish the thought, Nat had pulled you up, and was pushing you quite forcefully back towards the bathroom, throwing you in there along with the dress and your raciest, laciest underwear that you hadn’t even seen her grab.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response, you should know better than to speak like that about one of my closest friends by now, by the time I’m back after getting changed myself, I want you wearing that dress so I can prove to you how wrong you are when you see everyone’s faces when we walk in later” Nate reply was somewhat muffled behind the bathroom door, but the fierceness, and her love for you, was still conveyed perfectly through the wood. 
“Besides if it truly makes you feel that bad after wearing it tonight, we’ll burn it together tomorrow, I’m not having you keeping it if its going to make you feel this way whenever you see it.” The finality in her tone and promise of being able to get rid of the thing tomorrow was enough to get you to follow her orders, that alongside the fact that you were still rather scared of her, even after having been friends with her for a few years now. 
With Natasha momentarily gone, it gave you the chance to ruminate in your thoughts, the dress was truly stunning, a deep emerald green that displayed your decolletage beautifully, with a daring slit from ankle to high up on your thigh. While you could see that the dress itself was objectively great, when it was you wearing it, it didn’t seem that way anymore. Instead of being able to focus on all of the ways it could highlight your beauty, all you could see was the way the closer fit of the dress clung to your stomach slightly, and how the slit showed off your thighs, and just seemed to emphasise how big they were. 
It was in this downward spiral that Nat found you in upon her return, a frown once again set on her face as when she saw the malice behind your eyes, directed solely at yourself. 
The way you could only ever focus on the parts of yourself that you saw as problems had always hurt Natasha, and how it impacted the way you behaved as well. It wasn’t just a matter of wearing baggier clothes that covered your insecurities, but the way you let it decide where you belonged socially. She was intimately familiar with your growing feelings towards a certain god of mischief who had taken up residence in the tower little over a year earlier, but also with your pessimistic view towards your chances of the feelings being reciprocated. Ever since you had realised that your feelings were more than that of just friendship you had immediately resigned yourself to remaining in the friend zone, refusing to believe that he would ever see you as something more because “he’s a god and I’m, well, I mean just look at me.” Nat had tried countless times to reassure you that the way you saw yourself, was not in fact the way others saw you, but had also at this point come to the understanding that your self perception wasn’t based in logic, and reasoning as such wasn’t going to make enough of an impact to change how you saw yourself. 
It was with this in mind that she approached you, an arm reaching round you and pulling you into her side for a hug, while smiling at you in the mirror, before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your room and to the party on the floor above. 
Your outfit dilemma had delayed the two of you a little, so when you arrived upstairs, the party was already in full swing; with music blaring and alcohol clearly flowing freely if the state that some of the guests were in already was any indication. As such you were easily able to slip in behind Natasha unnoticed, before heading straight over to the bar, feeling the need to indulge a little more than normal tonight. 
From your vantage point at the bar up on the mezzanine, you could see almost all of the goings on down below you, from Lang absolutely busting it up on the dance floor to Tony trailing around after Pepper, seemingly trying to make up for something that was undoubtedly his fault, but wasn’t actually remorseful for. Unfortunately it also meant that you had the perfect view of Loki and his apparent flavour of the night. Despite knowing how unproductive it was, you found yourself comparing yourself to her, noting all the ways she was traditionally attractive, only to seemingly find yourself lacking in the same places in comparison. Even though you had accepted months ago that Loki was never going to reciprocate your feelings, and having desperately tried to allocate him into the friend box in your head unsuccessfully, it still hurt deeply to see him so close with other women, knowing what he would be doing with them that night, only to move on to the next when it suited him. 
This knowledge had one advantage for you though, it had made it much easier for you to become friends with the god. As you knew nothing romantic was ever going to happen between the two of you, you had found it that much easier to relax and joke around him, even going as far to return his flirty remarks, as there was no pressure behind it for you, and the potential embarrassment behind behaving more boldly was removed. Since he flirted with everyone that way, it obviously didn’t mean anything to him, so it made it much easier for you to jokingly flirt back. It was because of this new found confidence, that you had struck up a strong friendship with the god and had come to call him one of your closest friends. It had only added to your mental torture.
After a few more self indulgent moments, agonising a little more over what could have been you turned to the bartender, and took another drink with a polite thanks and a smile before deciding that even if you did still regret coming, and especially wearing the dress, you were going to make the most of the evening. Besides how many people could say they got to drink and dance with the avengers, who they were friends with. 
It was with this new found resilience that you stood from your place and made your way down to the dance floor, having caught Nat and Wanda’s eyes before and been summoned. 
The next few hours passes in a slight blur of laughter and dancing for you, after a few, chaotic but incredibly fun dances with Nat and Wanda some of the other men began to join in, requesting a dance with you. Between the fun of teaching Steve how people actually danced in clubs now alongside Nat, and Bucky whirling you round the floor like an absolute professional - after complementing your outfit for the evening with an all too knowing look, you had almost forgotten about your preconceptions for the evening, but whenever you danced with one of the men, however gracious and smooth they were, you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were Loki instead of them; comparing the feel of their hand on your back to what you had imagined Loki’s would be like if he were there instead. 
Just when you were about to take a break from dancing, a slightly cooler hand came to rest on your back, as its owner leant down to speak into your ear over the music.
“Darling, I think its about time we show them how its really done don’t you?”
The feeling of his breath over your neck as he leant in closer sent a jolt down your spine, that you were almost certain he must have felt in his hand, still placed firmly in the middle of your back, exactly where you had imagined it being all night. 
Quickly composing yourself, you managed a somewhat natural reply, rather impressed with your own neurones for still being able to function at least somewhat normally whilst Loki was so close to you, having not moved away under the pretence of needing to be closer to be able to hear you over the music.
“Ah of course your majesty, I’m sure us mere mortals couldn’t possibly live up to the prowess of a god”
His low reply was barely heard over the thumping of the bass, in a way that made you question whether he had actually intended for your to hear it, if it wasn’t for the sly wink he sent towards you after.
“Yes I find that is the case in many areas darling, especially when it comes to moving their bodies”
The raised eyebrow you gave in reply expressed all you needed him to know, and covered for the fact that your mind had been sent in a downward spiral imagining his trademark snake hips dance move, in areas other than the dance floor. 
Whilst you were somewhat distracted in your thoughts, he moved the hand from your back to loop his arm round your waist and bring you back into the middle of the dance floor, beginning to sensually move his hips and draw you into to him to do the same. 
What you didn’t know was that Loki and been subtly watching you all evening, ever since you had walked in the door, many may not have noticed your entrance behind the Black Widow, but at this point Loki’s body was finely attuned to your presence and he hadn’t been able to draw his sight away from you for more than a few seconds at a time. You were wearing his colours. His green. But it wasn’t just your choice in attire tonight that had drawn his attention, as delightful as that dress was, you’d had it for many months before this point. Initially you had been a curiosity to Loki, kind to him when many others weren’t immediately following his return to Midgard, but after talking to you the first few times it was your intelligence that had captured Loki’s heart. He had found you to be one of the few midgardians to match his voracious appetite for knowledge, both in reading and in your chosen profession as a biologist working alongside Stark and Banner, but much less insufferable than the other two. 
When Loki had first come to terms with his interest in you, he had thought his subtle flirtations would be enough to alert you to his intentions, but when these failed to elicit any kind of response from you he had slowly become more and more bold with his innuendoes and flirtatious comments when in your presence. At first he had thought he was finally getting somewhere with you when you had began to match him in conversations, but when you made no sign of anything more, he had found himself stumped. At one point he had even stooped so low as to flirt with others in your presence in the hope that it would inspire enough jealously within you to reveal your feelings towards him, alas it did not work. No one had ever taken this long to fall victim to his seduction. He had admitted to himself that this time was different to his previous experiences as truly desired more with you than just a roll in the bed, not to say that did not also desire that with you, he had thought about that extensively, but he was not sure how to progress from here. 
When you had walked in tonight though, looking exquisite in his colours he had decided that enough was enough, tonight he was going to finally bite the bullet and just ask you outright if you would be with him. It was not a decision that he had come to lightly, but he had finally come to the realisation that if he wanted something to happen he was going to have to do something about it for himself. 
You didn’t know whether Loki had bribed the DJ before approaching you, or it was a shear unfortunate coincidence but as you continued dancing, each song seemed to get progressively dirtier and more sensual. This combined with finally dancing with him after having imagined it all night, the enticing smell of him from being in such close proximity, and the one or two drinks you’d had early were practically sending you into an early death.
Simultaneously Loki was experiencing a similar issue, when she wasn’t looking, Loki found his eyes being drawn from her face down to her chest, which with his height he had a fabulous view down, and combined with the lyrics and music he hands had seemingly began to move of his own accord and were veering dangerously further south. He decided he needed to do something soon, or he was going to have a very hard time of it.
As he leant down once again to speak into your ear, your breath hitched ever so slightly, and a faint flush bloomed across your cheeks- a fact that didn’t go entirely unnoticed by the god, and one that made his own pulse race. All hope that you felt the same way as him was not lost.
“Are you alright there darling? You’re looking awfully flushed. You’re not too warm in here are you?”
You had barely managed to stutter out what you could only imagine would have been a terrible excuse before he continued;
“Unless of course it is for the same reason as I.”
The hope that formed in your chest from the one sentence alone caused you to whip your head up, needing to search his gaze to see if he was really implying what you thought he was, surely he couldn’t be, there was no way that he could have felt the same way towards you as you did to him. Before you could continue with your self deprecation, he interrupted your thoughts once again;
“Now now darling stop that immediately, I can tell you are already overthinking this before I have even truly started. I do not know what it is that makes you doubt yourself so, but you must know that whatever it is I do not share that same belief.”
You held his breath as he said this, still not truly believing that this could be going where you wished it was, but not daring to do anything to break the spell just yet
“I was almost sure you would have known by now, but apparently I have not been clear enough in my appreciation or my advances towards you. I very much like you min elskling, you have well and truly captivated me heart and mind, body and soul. I would be honoured if you wished to court me, or as I believe you mortals say, go on a date with me” Loki finished with a release of breath, like saying all that had released a burden from upon his chest and he could finally breath deeply again now it was done.
You just stood there frozen in the middle of the dance floor, unsure if what you had heard was really happening, surely this was all some wonderful fever induced dream, and you were going to wake up face down on one of the desks in the lab any moment. 
However Loki was reading your silence as rejection, and the insecurities that he had previously pushed aside were starting to flood back.
“Of course darling, if you do not feel the same then, I would be more than happy to just remain as friends,” it was of course a lie, but one that he would guard closely if that were the case, as he would never want for you to feel guilty for making an honest decision, and would much rather keep your friendship than not have you in his life at all.
“And I can completely understand why of course if you do not return my feelings, after all with my heritage I know-” before he could finish his sentence though you had reached up and pulled his face down to your height, before promptly pushing your mouth onto his in a scorching kiss. In the time Loki had began to panic and ramble, it had finally registered what Loki had been saying, and that it was in fact real, so before he could spiral any further you had to display your feelings towards him, and this had seemed like the most direct course of action.
After a brief moment in which Loki’s brain had to catch up to what was actually going on right now, he swiftly took charge of the kiss, both of you melting into it, especially as Loki opened his mouth to let he tongue dance along your lips before slowly meeting your own. At the same time, Lokis hands began to wander more actively, finally sliding that last little distance down to your behind, which he grasped firmly before sliding one hand down to bring your leg up and round his hip, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him. Your own hands had found their way into his silky hair, finally fulfilling the desire you had held for many months to feel what it was like between your fingers, and when you gave it a gentle tug in the passion of the moment, a low growl made its way up Lokis throat, only enticing you in further. 
It was only as a few wolf whistles broke through your bubble that you remembered exactly where you both were and that it was perhaps not the best place for what was clearly on its way to happening. It was with the same thought that Loki took your hand and began leading you out of the room, stopping only briefly first to growl lowly into your ear “we need to leave now darling, don’t you agree?” Before nipping your earlobe and pulling back to grin at you. 
With absolutely no objections, and no subtlety either, you nodded before taking the lead taking you both in the direction your room, before stopping to remember the state you had left it in before the party in your distress to find an outfit. You blushed at the memory and changed direction slightly to lead you both to his rooms instead. Loki however took no notice, or simply did not care for the slight moment of hesitation, as at this point he didn’t particularly care where you were headed as long as it was close by, you were finally his and now it was time for him to claim you as such. 
Part Two here:
Thank you so much for reading if you made it this far! Please do let me know what you think x
398 notes · View notes
cuubism · 11 months
Note
I’m BEGGING for more “retired!Dream opens up a weird magic fey bookshop” au. Its so intriguing!
you are in luck. i wrote more
--
"So," Hob says, leaning in the doorway of Dream's study-of-sorts, "much as I love the recommendations, do you mind if I browse?"
He's taken, recently, to meeting Dream on the upper floor of the shop, bringing coffee and watching Dream label and sort his new books in incomprehensible categories. He usually gets some interesting book facts out of it, too, or strange little stories -- "this book washed up on the Sardinian shore some years ago", "this was signed by a long-dead author, I've been curious to see how long it will take for a collector to find it," "an old man bestowed this upon me on the eve of his death, it's the only copy in existence" and so on -- not to mention the pleasure of Dream's company. He is so odd, and so engaging.
Dream looks up at him now with a tiny smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes. "Of course. Find whatever you wish."
Hob has been wondering if Dream's serendipitous knack with books will extend to browsing, to random finds. Only one way to know.
He leaves Dream to his labeling and goes to wander the shop.
This time, he does get swallowed in Oneiromancy, where he finds Sleeping Worlds, a book about dream travel. Then he wanders deeper into the shop, passes categories like, "Cat Training," CLOCKS, "Mathematics: Easy -> Impossible", and, "♾". Of course he goes into Infinity, and picks up The Birth of Numbers, a book whose text starts in the center of the page and spirals outwards, font growing larger as the book goes on, and in another section called "Romance: DIFFICULT LEVEL" -- whatever the hell difficult means -- he picks up a tiny book that's just one line, one syllable on each page.
I
on
ly
want
ed
you
to
see.
God, Dream's shop is weird.
Dream finds him there some time later, deep in Sleeping Worlds. "I see you've had a productive day."
"Yeah, sorry, lost track of time."
Dream keeps looking at him with a little smirk.
Worry darts through Hob's stomach. "Wait, what time is it?"
"Midnight," says Dream, with satisfaction. "I've absorbed you."
Yeah, no kidding. Hob scrambles to his feet. "Jesus, Dream, sorry. I'll get out of your hair."
"No matter. This is what The Library is for."
Hob goes to hand him the books, and he waves a hand. "Keep them, I will get them back eventually."
Ominous. Great.
"Gonna break into my house and retrieve them?" Hob asks. He probably wouldn't even mind, to be honest.
"Nothing so alarming." He gestures Hob forward, and Hob follows, lets Dream walk him out.
It is, indeed, pitch dark outside on their shared street. Hob's supposed to open the cafe at 6. Whoops.
"Thanks for the books, Dream," he says. "And for. Ten hours of distraction, apparently."
Dream leans in the narrow doorway of his shop. "Of course. Come browse... anytime."
And he melts back into the shadows as Hob steps down onto the street.
--
Hob wonders if he's an idiot for wanting to ask Dream out. Dream is clearly some kind of other thing, and hanging around him did kind of get Hob cursed. But the way he bites his lip when he's making notes in books is so cute. His unerring ability to make perfect book selections is both strange and endearing -- even the books Hob had picked up on his own had been exactly what he hadn't known he was looking for. Hob's heart picks up every time he steps into the cafe.
But if he's to ask out Dream, his own personal weird bookshop creature, he has to do it right.
And he knows how.
The next time Dream comes in for coffee, Hob sits down across from him and hands him a book. Dream looks at it in surprise, and Hob has the sudden thought that as the all-powerful selector of tomes, he probably isn't gifted books himself.
The book is called, Broken Hands. Hob had pulled it off his own shelf. Dream doesn't ask him what it is, instead he flips open the cover and reads, as Hob had hoped he would.
The first page of Broken Hands has the following paragraph:
Kissing her hand, he came to know himself. Kissing her mouth, he came to know them both. When they went onward, for now only in his mind, he kissed more of her, and more, and more, and then, he knew her. He wanted to know her.
Dream reads it, and looks back up at him. Offers a tiny smile. Yes, Hob knew he would get it.
"You have something you would like to ask me, Hob Gadling?" he says softly.
"You have something you want to answer?"
Dream takes a long sip of his coffee, but looks at Hob over the rim of the mug, a smile in his eyes. Then he swipes away the milk foam from his upper lip with his tongue and says, "I'd say that you are very foolish, to still wish to associate with someone who did, in a sense, get you cursed. But that I find myself grateful for this foolishness. People do often come back to the library, once they find it-- but they don't often come back for me."
It makes Hob sad to imagine--Dream the perennial custodian of The Library, shepherd of its patrons, gifting small touches of coincidence and magic, but always in the background, a bridge and not a destination. Meanwhile, Hob likes the strange books, but it's Dream he keeps wanting to hover around, to lure back into his own space.
He dares to take Dream's hand and squeezes. "...So?"
"I'd say that I'd like to get coffee with you, if you know a place."
Cheeky thing. "Yeah, there's a Starbucks a couple blocks down," Hob says, gesturing, and Dream chuckles. Hob's still holding his hand, and brings it to his lips for a light kiss, and gets to watch as Dream's cheeks tint pink. His heart lifts in his chest. So easy and light.
"You're gorgeous," he says, and that blush deepens. "I'd suffer even Starbucks for you."
"You would suffer much, then," says Dream.
"We'll get our Starbucks and wander around WHSmith and have a fabulous date," Hob says, and Dream's face goes through the most exquisite journey of horror.
"You demand too much," he says, faint. "You enjoy my suffering."
"Little bit, yeah." Hob's certainly enjoying the reaction.
Then Dream looks at him in challenge. "Very well," he declares. "You've set the date. Now you must follow through."
Hob can't even spare a thought to the distasteful activities he's now gotten himself into--he has a date with Dream. "So that's a yes?"
Dream smiles again, a tiny, pleased thing. "It is a yes, Hob Gadling."
--
They do go to Starbucks. Hob is treated to the glorious sight of Dream sipping a pink drink out of a long straw, which is so worth dealing with the coffee. Then he indeed drags Dream to WHSmith, where Dream stands in the middle of the brightly-lit store, spins in a circle staring at carefully lined book displays with wide eyes, says, "Hell would be more merciful," and bolts away. Hob follows him, laughing.
Outside, he finds Dream leaning in the shade of a tree, looking vaguely shell-shocked. Hob really shouldn't keep laughing at him, but he can't help it. "Were you traumatized permanently by the big chain store?"
"Yes," says Dream, but, despite the perilous adventure, smiles. "You are a cruel man, Hob Gadling."
"Nah. Just harnessed the fluorescent lighting to chase you back into the safety of my arms."
"Oh?" Dream pushes off the tree and steps closer, until he's standing just before Hob, close enough to touch. "Was that the goal?"
Hob takes the leap that's offered and touches Dream's cheek with a light hand. "Did it work?"
This close, in the midday light, Dream's eyes are almost grey. The shade of the tree dapples his skin. It's still odd to see him out of the contained space of his bookshop, of Hob's cafe, but it does make this feel more real. A part of the world beyond the spun-sugar story of their orbiting binary stars.
Dream rests a feather light hand on Hob's chest. Studies Hob from under his eyelashes. And instead of answering, he leans up and, with that same light touch, presses his lips to Hob's.
Hob revels in the mere touch of him for a moment, but doesn't let it stand at light for long. He takes Dream's face between his hands and deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue into Dream's mouth, swallowing Dream's hum of pleasure. If only he could put into the kiss what he had felt when Dream had handed him Nightingales. A sudden finding of something long lost that was always meant to be rooted in his heart.
When they part, he makes good on a promise and does pull Dream into his arms. It feels like a great indulgence. It also feels right.
"Make me a solemn promise, Hob Gadling," Dream says against Hob's cheek, arms wrapped around his back.
"Anything."
"Never take me here ever again."
Hob laughs into his hair, squeezing him tight. "What could one possibly want from here when The Library exists?"
This seems to greatly gratify Dream, who preens in Hob's arms. Hob kisses the shell of his ear, then his cheek, then they part again, and he takes Dream's hand. "I'm glad you expanded your horizons with me for a day."
"And now I will shrink them again," says Dream. "Except for one." To which he runs his thumb along Hob's lower lip, a touch Hob sways forward to follow almost drunkenly as Dream smirks. "Come."
He starts leading Hob back in the direction of their quiet street, and far far away from any fluorescent lighting, and Hob follows, touching his lips fondly. And lets himself be cautiously, tentatively hopeful that this will continue spiraling up into something real, because he wants it so bad. Curses and all.
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osakiharu · 2 years
Text
HELPING THEM DYE THEIR HAIR !!
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part 1 | part 2
content : gender neutral reader, fluff, shits and giggles because i think this would be a funny experience, suggestive comments from kazutora and sanzu whoops, swearing because why not, mikey is a little ooc - he’s less traumatised in this one because i said so
characters : mikey, kazutora, sanzu
notes : wrote this because i desperately need to change my hair but i have to wait for ages and im going a little insane rn - might do part 2 with rin and ran
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˗ˏˋ MIKEY
- he got a haircut and he looked so good. we love short hair mikey here 👩‍💻
- he loved it too <3 it had been so long since he had short hair and he kept shaking his head around because it felt so light 💀
-then he said he wanted to dye it black and you were like oh :(( because you realised how similar his hair was to shinichiro’s
- he didn’t seem sad about it though - it was more just like a “what if i dyed my hair black it would look cool” sort of thing
- you knew it was also kinda to do with shin but you never asked him about it
- it’s a relaxing experience <3
- you do everything for him because he’s completely clueless about anything to do with hair
- he likes the smell of the dye and keeps picking up the bowl to smell it
- “why is it white if it’s black hair dye?” very confused and is very entertained by watching it turn darker on his head
- half way though his eyes are almost shut because it feels nice <3
- he kept wanting to lean back on you but every time he did he got dye on your shirt </3
- he gives you little story times about emma’s hair experiences
- “yeah, once she got it cut and she didn’t like how it looked on her… so i tried to help her but i kinda just made it worse and she cried.”
- you remember emma wearing a hat to cover her fringe for a little while because she didn’t like it so you guessed that was why
- “i thought it looked fine, but then she called hinata and she started laughing!” sits there like >:(
- he doesn’t want to get any on his forehead or around his face so he takes the brush off you and starts going around the edges - you’re surprised how careful he was
- he was so concentrated that his eyebrows furrowed and he looked so cute :((
- got annoyed when you kissed him on the cheek - “y/n, if you distract me and i get this all over my face i’ll kick you.”
- kisses you afterwards though <3
- when you’re finished you gather his hair up and put it in a blob on top of his head and he thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen
- takes pictures and sends them to his friends with no context
- he washes it out himself but doesn’t do it properly so you have to make him go back and do it again
- i know damn well he takes fast showers. stinky mikey >:(
- when you finish drying his hair and sorting it out he’s pretty quiet - you can kinda guess what he’s thinking about
- “y’look so pretty, mikey,” you kissed his cheek, “suits you.” <3
- “hm, thankyou, angel.” muah i love mikey
- calls draken later on because now they both have black hair and he’s all excited about it
- “ken-chin, we’re basically twins!”
- mikey>>>
˗ˏˋ KAZUTORA
- king has to touch up his roots - he lets them grow out really far too
- there’s just over three inches grown out and he’s like whoops i couldn’t be bothered
- prefers to do it with you because it’s more fun and he doesn’t wanna make his hair fall out - once he did it with chifuyu and they both decided that they’d never do it again
- usually gets the bleach in other parts of his hair because he isn't careful and he never puts the rest of his hair back
- you put his hair in two braids this time and he is not happy.
- “i look like that haitani motherfucker with his stupid blond strip in his hair… looks like a bee, i hope he changed it because he looked fucking stupid.” kazutora doesn’t like looking like ran
- laughs when you laugh at his insults though
- he can’t stand the smell of the bleach at all
- scrunches his nose up when he watches you mix it together
- “god, that fuckin’ stinks… it’s hurting my nose!” you agree with him on that one
- y’know how people put foil on their hair when they dye it to separate it - he does that but he didn’t know how to fold it or anything so you come back to the bathroom and he’s sat with a ball of foil on his head and his whole forehead out like “look 😁”
- embarrassed when you tell him it wasn’t necessary to do that
- he likes it when you take his hair out of the braids - he loves it when you play with his hair so he sits with his eyes half shut and smiling to himself because he’s so relaxed
- gets you to play with his hair a little extra while he’s waiting to wash it out <3
- said he showered in the morning so he was like it’s fine we can wash my hair over the bathtub
- he was giggling the whole time because it was so hard for you to wash the front of his hair from that angle and you kept slapping his forehead 💀
- “how come purple shampoo doesn’t turn your hair purple if it’s got all that purple pigment stuff in it?” not now kazutora.
- gets water in his eyes on top of it all
- enjoys having you wash his hair though - even though it’s chaotic it makes him feel all fluffy n shit inside <3
- it’s so fun and you’re both just laughing the whole time :(
- when you’re finished he wraps his hair up in a towel and he looks so cute
- “my knees hurt from kneeling down, is this how you feel sometimes?”
- boy.
- anyways his hair didn’t fall out and now he’s getting you to dry his hair for him too <3
˗ˏˋ SANZU
- “i’m gonna dye my hair pink.”
- when sanzu first said that you couldn’t imagine him with pink hair at all. if anything you thought he would dye his hair black or something darker
- now you can’t picture sanzu without pink hair
- but because of the colour it fades quickly and ehm.. because sanzu’s natural hair colour is so light if you let it grow out too far..
- it literally looks like he’s going BALD
- like as soon as he decides that you have to dye it thats when you do it no questions asked
- you’re busy and can’t do it today? okay, sanzu will just drag you there by the leg don’t worry
- he always mixes the dye though because he’s really particular about the colour - like there’s a certain ratio he has memorised, mostly because the first time he did it he almost looked like a highlighter and he didn’t like how bright it was
- “the fuck are you putting on gloves for?” believes in dyeing hair with bare hands
- he does the top and front of his hair whilst you to the back
- always puts on music because he finds dyeing his hair kinda boring
- makes your life ten times harder though because he leans over every 2 seconds to change the song or he keeps moving his head around to the beat of the music
- “haru, stop moving your head! i can’t do this properly if you keep moving.”
- “just move with me then, sweets.” he’s so annoying <3
- he does that thing where you kinda swing your head to one side and then the other and clicks his fingers to the beat of the song as a joke and he looks like a complete moron - makes you laugh though
- it’s his version of ‘dad dancing’ he says
- once all the dye is on he can’t leave his hair alone and has to keep messing with it
- “it’s fucking itchy.” he says whilst pushing the short parts of his hair up like a spike…
- it gets all over his forehead and hands and it doesn’t come off when you wash it
- “looks like i fucked a fairy or something.” he knows what he means
- “what?”
- it also gets in one of his eyebrows <3 when he sees it he just stops and goes :0
- you’re giggling because you know that it’s not gonna come out for a while and you’re trying to tell him it’s fine, his hair kinda covers it so it’s okay
- he let an intrusive thought win and just dips his fingers in the left over dye and rubs it in.
- “i said it would wash out, why did you do that?” you’re trying not to cackle at him because he just realised what he did
- “fuck.”
- he had pink eyebrows for almost 2 weeks after that
- ran and rindou will never let him hear the end of it.
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reblogs appreciated <3
@swtsuya because sanzu and kazu >:)
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kpopnstarwars · 7 days
Text
Stray: Lee Dokyeom x Cat Hybrid!Reader
A/N: so there are a lot of hybrid AUs out there where the members are the hybrids but it got me thinking about dk with cat hybrid reader (i heard dk was allergic but dw i got it covered)
tw: 18+ because of eventual smut, swearing, hybrids are not treated well by society, a bit of trauma from reader being treated badly, reader doesn't have a home or food at the beginning, reader is extremely emotionally repressed whoops, mentions of death + starving, not really slow burn it's just long and has weird pacing because i refuse to cut out some bits, dk is a huge ball of sunshine, it starts off waffly but gets sm better i promise, cheating and breakup (not dk and reader),
wc: 11.7k (oops)
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you'd had your dealings with humans, and most weren't pleasant
as a hybrid, you didn't fully belong with cats or humans
the latter often thought you were inferior, and treated you as much
you find your fully cat form is much more agreeable to your human form with ears - it feels less obvious that way, even though normal cats can smell that you're a hybrid
still, the world isn't kind, and you don't have a home
you'd stood up for yourself at your last job - a secretary in a huge office block - pointing out that you got a much lower salary than the comparable human employees, and had been promptly fired
briefly, a human couple had taken you in, but once they realised you were a hybrid, they kicked you out
which leaves you where you are now, wishing that you were just one or the other and not both
the winter is especially harsh this year, and your soft coat, matted from too many days on the streets, doesn't do much to keep out the cold
the wind is cutting, and you find yourself slinking through the back gardens of some low rise flats, wondering if anyone will spot you and think you're just a stray cat
you can't believe you're stooping this low, but you'd rather this than death by frostbite
like hell you're just going to give up now
it's not like you'd stay permanently without the home owners knowing you're a hybrid, anyway - you know how that ended last time
the muffled sound of laughter floats towards you, and you scale a fence, following the noises until you make your way into a rather overgrown garden
warm light spills through the glass doors, and you curl up on the patio, at the edge of the beam cast by the full kitchen
by full, you mean full
there must be over ten guys in there, all crammed shoulder to shoulder around the dining table, laughing raucously
they're all human, from what you can tell
you can feel a bit of the warmth seeping out from the miniature crack under the door, but before you dare inch forward, further into the light, one of them turns around
he's got a sweet face, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he laughs at one of his friend's jokes
the hackles on your back rise as you feel his gaze on you
you've learnt that when humans smile it doesn't always mean they're good people
retreating quickly, you find yourself thankful for the crowded garden, slinking behind a bush to get out of sight
you immediately feel the lack of warmth, the laughter more muffled from here
for some reason, an empty feeling wells up inside you, like you lost something
like you strayed from the path of your destiny
but deep inside you, the survival instincts tug you away from the warm kitchen and the warm smiles
those instincts haven't failed you yet, so why would they fail you now?
however, despite your so called survival instincts, you find yourself in the same garden a week later
again
you'd visited a few times, but they didn't really count, because all you did was peer furtively over the fence, ears swivelling vigilantly
you'd caught sight of the guy who spotted you before, peering outside and frowning
you assume he's the one who owns the bottom floor flat
you hope he was wondering if he should get his garden in order, because if he was, you whole heartedly agree - you almost poked yourself on the brambles a few times
right now, the Guy is washing up, his sleeves rolled up and his hair a bit of a mess, elbow deep in the soapy sink water
his glasses keep falling down his nose
the kitchen lights are on - it's almost dark, and the night's chill is creeping further into your bones
it's been so long since you've been inside that you find indoor lights kind of... mesmerising
it might seem strange, but you almost crave the fake yellow light the light bulbs give off
the Guy suddenly stops washing up and you almost fall off the back fence that you're perched on, thinking he's seen you
then he bobs his head in time to a beat you can't hear while busting out some quite respectable dance moves, and you realise he's just listening to music
it must be some pretty good music - now he's singing, and you can hear it faintly
wow, he's good
he also looks pretty engrossed
that's your queue; you jump down from the back fence, your paws pattering against the frosty patio as you approach
there's something that always draws you back here
and it's not just because of the warm air radiating from his badly insulated flat
still, you're wary - he might seem friendly, and you might feel a certain pull towards him, but that doesn't mean anything
lots of things have felt right that weren't
you're not making any mistakes this time
you're tired of being mistreated because you're a hybrid, and tired of being seen as a pet and not a person
never mind if this ends with the Guy feeding you caviar some cats could only dream of, if he looks at you funny, you're not going to even set foot in his mess of a garden again
with that thought, you curl up beside the glass door, happy to bask in the lingering warmth from the kitchen and enjoy the artificial light
turning your head, you peer at the Guy over the lip of the door
his shoulders are turned in your general direction, but he's looking studiously at the dishes in the sink, shimmying his shoulders and tapping his foot along to the rhythm of the music, so you decide to stay a little longer
that's when the grey clouds coalescing above you decide to start snowing
you feel the fur on your sides fluff up in response, and you wrap your tail around your paws, edging an inch closer to the door
the air is bitingly cold, and you wonder if you'll make it through the night if the snow settles
you haven't eaten a real meal in ages, and you're suddenly aware that it means your poor little cat body has even less insulation
you're certain that if you don't find shelter soon, tonight will be your last
but do you really want to seek help from some random human?
it's ended badly before, but you know it could have ended worse
you won't let that happen again
abruptly, you stand up, tail lashing in irritation at yourself - like hell you're going to come crawling into some human's home, ears pinned back like you need their help
it's not your fault you were born a fucking hybrid
you're halfway down the patio when a warm gust of air blasts down your spine
you wonder if hallucinating heat is an early symptom of hypothermia but continue resolutely making your way towards the back fence
'hey,'
you whip around, a snarl half forming on your face in shock, but it's just the Guy
he leans in the doorway, a smile on his face and his eyes sparkling
'you can come in, if you want.'
the warmth coming from inside his flat is absolute bliss
you're a metre away from the open door, but you can feel your bones defrosting, and you know however hard you try, you can't leave now
not now that he's offered
not when his kind smile triggers not zero, but minus one alarm bells in your head
you approach but hesitate, knowing you're being too quick to give in - he doesn't know you're a hybrid, and you don't know if he's secretly evil and plans to skin you as soon as you step through the door
just to be safe, you stop just out of kicking distance, staring up at him quizzically
surely, he wouldn't voluntarily let a hybrid into his house - you're much more expensive to look after than pets, because you'd basically be another human in the house who can't earn enough to pay bills
you're considering backing out, even with that delicious heat emnating from his kitchen, when he moves to the side so you have a clear path in
your eyes widen a little
you feel like he's being too nice
he laughs a little at your indecision, squatting down so he looks smaller and less intimidating
'come on. i know it must be way too cold out there. i'll let you out whenever you want to leave, if that's what you want.'
that's the final straw
you step over the threshold and bolt
you're not even sure where you're going, but you swerve away from a room where there are clothes strewn over a chair and the desk filled with clutter - that's definitely his bedroom
the only other room that isn't the bathroom or the kitchen is a dusty room full of cardboard boxes and a bed with no sheets on it
a guest room, you assume
flattening yourself against the floor, you crawl under the bed
quickly, you tuck yourself behind one of the boxes which had been artfully stuffed underneath the bed
once you're settled, it occurs to you that that was frankly rude of you
the Guy let you into his flat, and the first thing you do is sprint past him and invade his guest room
but then again, he probably thinks you're just some feral cat who he saved from becoming a feline icicle, so your behaviour would make sense
you tense when you hear footsteps pass the door, but he doesn't come in, just walks into what you assume is the bathroom
a few minutes later, you hear the shower turn on, and you relax a little more
maybe he'll let you be for now
curling your tail over your nose to stop yourself from snorting in the ridiculous amounts of dust under the bed, you wedge yourself further behind the box and close your eyes
it's amazingly warm in the Guy's flat, you'll give him that
warm enough that despite the hunger that's been gnawing at your stomach for the past week, you find yourself falling into a sleep deeper than you've been able to reach for ages
you'll get to sorting out the details of your little invasion of his flat in the morning
for now, you're happy to sleep
when you wake up, he's gone
understandably, though - he must work pretty hard to afford a nice-ish flat like this, and it is also twelve noon
unfortunately, he doesn't appear to have any cat flaps, so that means you'll have to momentarily shift into your very naked human form to let yourself out the back door
you wonder if you should check in his fridge if he's got anything to eat, but then you decide against it - he's already given you a place to stay for the night, no need to eat his food as well
ignoring the call of the fridge and the shower, you pad over to the back door, pausing when you see something propped against the glass
it's a little whiteboard, and as you approach, you make out the writing
it's got 'hi, i'm dokyeom, dk for short :D' written across the top, with a little flow chart beneath
it starts with two options: 'are you a hybrid' with a box for ticking under 'yes' and 'no'
under the option for 'no', it says 'i'll buy cat food' and under 'yes', it says 'there are spare clothes in the guest room and towels in the bathroom (both clean, don't worry), help yourself to anything in the fridge'
you sit down on your haunches, shocked
so he did consider that you could be a hybrid?
and he's alright with it?
plus, he managed to leave clothes in the room you were sleeping in, and you didn't wake up?
maybe your instincts aren't as good as you thought
or maybe your body thought you were safe last night - safe enough to not wake you up when the Guy (dokyeom, you've learnt from the mini whiteboard) came in
you cock your head, staring at the whiteboard for a few moments longer before making your decision
honestly, it's not hard to choose
you make your way to the bathroom, already eagerly anticipating a shower
sure enough, he's left a towel on the rail, and you're quick to hop into the shower, shifting into your human form and turning up the heat high
it's strange to be out of your cat form, your body suddenly seeming too large and ungainly, your senses immediately dulled
but in a way, it's also freeing - you haven't been able to be like this in ages, as clothes unfortunately don't shift with you from cat to human form
you feel more real this way
that's the problem: you can't exist as just one or another, both animal and human are part of your soul, your essence - you can't just pretend that one half of you doesn't exist
eventually, you drag yourself out of the shower
you're aware that he might have limited hot water, and what kind of guest would you be if you used it up before he even got a chance to get home?
wrapping the towel around you, you slip into the guest room to put on the clothes he'd left there
it's a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, a large white t-shirt and a grey hoodie, all obviously his
even in your human form, you can smell the mixed scents on his clothes
there's the fresh smell of clean laundry, a hint of aftershave, and his own unique scent: you can't quite put your finger on it, but it feels... cosy
it's a smell that's all over his house, actually
barefoot, you enter the kitchen again, scooping the whiteboard off the floor so you can write on it
you tick the box under 'yes'
underneath that, you write a quick note:
'thanks for letting me stay. i'll be out of your hair in no time, i just needed somewhere for the night. you're very kind, dk. thank you so much :))'
signing your name and setting the whiteboard down on the counter on the way to the fridge, you rummage around, wondering what you can cook
you're pleasantly surprised - the contents of his fridge aren't awful, and although they could be organised a little better, it's thankfully not full of expired ready meals or anything like that
feeling better than you've felt in ages, you wander around his kitchen until you find his rice cooker, and then you get cooking
you're absolutely ravenous, but you make sure to make enough for him too - he's been unnecessarily kind to you, this is the best you can do for him
you're just finished washing up your dishes when your instincts prickle
it's a sensation that happens a lot when you're in your human form - it means that your cat form would be picking up something that your human senses are too dull to detect
rushing back to the bedroom, you slip out of the clothes he laid out for you, hastily folding them before shifting back to your cat form
logically, you have no reason to fear
he's been nothing but kind to you, but he's still a human
and humans aren't always as nice as they seem
you feel so much more secure in your cat form - smaller, faster, better at avoiding sticky situations, better at surviving
your ears twitch as you hear a key scrape in the lock
that must be him - dk
you stand indecisively in the middle of the guest room, your claws sinking unconsciously into the carpet before you hastily retract them
by then, he's toed his shoes off and is in the kitchen
you hear a soft 'oh'
he's probably found the whiteboard on the counter, moved from where he left it, and the dinner you cooked for him
he calls your name then, and you almost jump out of your skin before you remember you wrote it on the whiteboard
feeling far too nervous, you trot out into the corridor, nudging the kitchen door open before entering
he's right there, leaning against the counter, his smiling eyes bright as he looks down at you
this is the first time you've really seen him, really realised you let your guard down and allowed some random guy to let you into his house
he looks absolutely huge
like, he could crush your cat form in his bare hands if he wanted to you, although you realise that's not that great of a feat considering your small stature
he would also tower over your human form, but then again, that's not much of an achievment
still, it makes you take a small step back
humans have unquestioned power over hybrids - you're pretty sure if he killed you right here and now, no one would know or care
and if someone did know, the case would be as likely to make it to court as you are likely to become a billionare next week
your hackles begin to rise, and you mentally run through your escape options
unfortunately, none avoid you shifting into your naked human form, even if it's just for a few seconds
you're beginning to panic
a lot
but then, he crouches down, just like last night
slowly, keeping his movements predictable, he reaches his hand out towards you
'i won't hurt you,'
you relax just a tiny bit, ears twitching, waiting to see what he'll say next
'promise.'
of their own accord, your hackles lower, and you find yourself inching towards his outstretched hand
'you don't have to leave, you know. it would be nice to have some company. plus, i don't want to make assumptions, but i'd rather not let you go if you have nowhere else to stay.'
part of your brain wonders why he's being so nice
the other part, the part that you've shoved down for so long, surfaces like a long lost ache, reminding you how lonely you are, reminding you how much you miss simple human interaction
dipping your head forward, you sniff at his broad palm, before lightly licking his fingertips
he chuckles, albeit a little nervously, as if he's scared you're going to bolt at any second (to be fair, if you were him, you wouldn't write off that option either)
his other hand comes up to rub behind your ears, and your eyes close at the feeling
the beginnings of a purr start to form in your chest, and you know that's when your fate is sealed
the permanence of that thought unsettles you
pulling away, you head towards the radiator, settling close to it, glad that your cat form means that you don't have to talk to him
he grins brightly at you, picking up the plate you left on the counter and putting it in the microwave for warming up
'thanks for the dinner, but you know you don't owe me anything, right?'
you blink up at him from your spot on the floor
he's literally the kindest human you've ever met
then again, you haven't met very many kind humans
that night you sleep curled up on the sofa - it's much more comfortable than wedged underneath a bed, and his cushions smell nice
in the morning, you hear dk get up, but he tip toes around quietly
cracking an eye open, you yawn, eyes blinking into focus as you watch him quickly scribble on the whiteboard, his brow furrowed in concentration
he glances your way, and for some reason, it shoots a bolt of panic through you, and you duck your head back down, closing your eyes
it's not that he's threatening - quite the opposite
it's just that you're not used to this; not used to being in such close proximity with another being for prolonged periods of time, not used to interaction with humans after avoiding them for your own sake for so long
you hear some shuffling, the sound of the fridge door, and then his footsteps approach
as he walks past, he brushes a hand lightly down the soft fur of your back, as if in greeting
you almost twitch at the feeling
you wonder how long it's been since you've let anyone come that close
not daring to move a hair, you wait until you hear him ease the front door shut
the second he's gone, you jump up, eager to see what he wrote on the whiteboard
it's on the counter, so you shift into your human form and put on some clothes - you're not sure what his rules about paws on tables are
there's a fresh t-shirt on the guest room bed, but you opt to wear the one you wore yesterday
a smile plays on your lips as you read what he wrote
it's a short but sweet message extolling the virtues of your cooking and telling you to help yourself to the fridge again, followed by a question asking if what food you would like and whether you prefer cat food
still grinning, you write your reply, explaining how you can eat both human and cat food and how you love tuna in either form, adding a short shopping list of ingredients and asking how his day was
once you're done, you decide to explore his flat properly
it consists of two bathrooms, two bedrooms, a tiny room with a washing machine and various bits and bobs crammed inside, and the kitchen which sort of melds with the living room (if you could call the couch and TV in one corner a living room)
you spend most of your time snooping around his bedroom, just to sate your curiosity
it's not neat, but it's not messy either, and the smell of him is strongest in there
you're sure his desk should be buckling under the combined weight of his pc and the impressive amount of paraphanalia that's collected upon it
it's not that it's dirty - it's actually pretty orderly, there's just... a lot of stuff
there's a mug full of pens which says 'dude kisser' on it (you're not going to question that one), a haphazard stack of books - the top one of which has a fuzzy bookmark sticking out, a pile of mismatching keycaps, a group photo of dk and twelve other guys with moustaches and other flattering things lovingly drawn on, and tons more stuff you couldn't explain even if you tried
the chair has a lot of clothes draped over it: nice, comfy clothes, like the ones he's lended you
you're tempted to explore further into his room, but you feel kind of rude so you scuttle back to the kitchen/living room to make the happy discovery that he owns a nintendo switch
that means he probably has some more complicated games lurking around but you're happy to settle with mario kart for now
it's not something you've played before, although you've heard some of your human ex-colleagues talking about it
by the time dk returns, though, you're a pro
well, maybe not a pro, but not inept, either
by then you've made dinner and left it out for him like yesterday - you feel kind of weird doing nothing but playing video games while he goes to work, and at least cooking for him makes you feel a little useful and not like some awful parasite taking advantage of him
he tells you about his day as he eats at the dinner table while you sit in cat form on the chair next to him
he smiles the whole time, and you find yourself relaxed and content, infected by his happy virus
once he's done with his debrief, he unthinkingly asks how your day was
you look at him and give him your best deadpan meow
he laughs and you find it a bit dazzling - he hands away smiles as if they're free, and honestly it kind of restores your faith in humanity
'what if you blink twice for yes and once for no? how about that?'
you blink twice at him
dk grins, his eyes lighting up; he's so excited you can almost imagine him clapping his hands and kicking his legs like an enthusiastic little kid
'do you like pineapple on pizza? is it wrong to wear socks and sandals? how about socks in bed? are tomatoes a fruit? is it right to have toilet paper over? or do you like it under?'
he bombards you with random yes or no questions, each one getting weirder than the last, but you find his delight in your answers is more than enough to let him continue
after about half an hour, he either runs out of questions or decides to spare you, asking instead whether you want to watch a movie
that's how you end up curled up on the sofa beside him
he'd insisted on a horror movie, even though you'd said no, very clearly blinking only once
you would leave but you think it's kind of entertaining how bad the makeup and plot are and how violent his reactions are (they consist of a lot of flailing and terrified squeaks)
despite your reluctance to watch a horror movie, he's actually more scared than you are
the poor thing is tense as anything, his mouth hanging half open as he stares wide eyed at the tv, transfixed
you're actually too busy watching him that when the jump scare pops up on screen, you jump about a foot high, landing hissing on his lap with your tail all fluffed up
your claws accidentally come out and prick him through his jeans and he yelps
'ouch - shit - ow - '
you hop off his lap and watch him dramatically curse and pretend to be wounded, both of you distracted from the movie now
eventually he calms down and goes back to watching, but not before he picks you up and plops you back on his lap, one hand anxiously smoothing down your back as you both wait for the next jump scare
after a while he goes so far as to pick you up and hold you to his chest, hiding his face in your fur every time the music warningly crescendos, whispering to you how utterly terrified he is
even still, his grip stays loose enough for you to move away at any time if you want
you'd think that after your previous experiences with humans, you'd hate him anywhere near you, but you don't
you don't mind it at all
it's kind of ridiculous actually, the way you feel safer than you have in months when he clutches you to him while watching a literal horror movie
you don't think much of it though
he's just a guy who's letting you stay for a bit
you don't plan to stick around
a week later, you find yourself writing an apology on the whiteboard that you'd been putting off since watching the movie
dk is welcoming and warm and friendly but you're sure he must be wondering why you haven't shifted into your human form yet
sometimes, you wonder that yourself - there's something in his eyes that instantly puts you at ease
the day before yesterday, you'd planned it, changing into your clothes - his clothes, and sitting on the sofa, ready to greet him, but the moment you heard his footsteps up to the front door, you just couldn't
your cat form still feels so much safer, even though you have nothing to fear
well, apart from all the explaining you'd have to do once you shift into a form with a tongue that can talk
you don't want to see the pity that would spring into his eyes, or worse, disgust
you're scared of the change it will bring
you're scared to let your walls down
you're scared to bare the soft, vulnerable part of your heart
clenching your teeth, you force yourself to relax, the marker in your hand shaking from how hard your fingers had been clenching around it
you lean against the counter for a while, writing messages then rubbing them out, needing to tell him why but also terrified of what he'll say
solitude has been your only companion for so long, you find that you don't have the words to express what you feel
you don't know how to tell him how you hadn't realised how lonely you were until he let you in
you don't know how to articulate the warm feeling inside you when he smiles at you, as if he doesn't care whether you're a human or a hybrid - because he doesn't
you don't know how to say how eternally grateful you are to him for finding something soft and gentle and innocent within you that you thought you lost years ago
in the end, you decide to keep it short, an apology that feels more like an excuse, but it's the best you can give him
sure, you don't plan to stay here with him forever, but you owe it to him anyway
your restless for the remainder of the day, pacing around the flat and the garden for a little too, tail lashing agitatedly
you've almost convinced yourself to go and rub out your message completely when you hear the front door open and dk comes in, calling out that he's home
peeking around the corner, you see him down the hallway but he doesn't spot you
he's got a strange look on his face, one you can't decipher yet, and there's a flowery scent on him that you've smelled only one time before
you wait just out of sight, not wanting to see his face as he reads
slowly, you venture out, feeling far more nervous than you should be
he sits down on the floor opposite you as soon as he spots you, signalling for you to do the same by patting the spot in front of him
you sink down on your haunches and curl your tail over your feet, nerves a tight ball in your chest
'you don't have to shift if you don't want to.'
the words immediately give you space to breathe, and you feel kind of silly for being so worked up about it all day
'i know hybrids aren't treated well at all, and i'm okay with whatever form you feel most comfortable in, you know? you can shift when you're ready, and whether that's tomorrow or in a decade or never, that's fine. you don't owe me anything.'
your chest feels tight at the earnesty of his words, and you know that if you were in your human form right now, tears would be welling up in your eyes
getting up, you close the gap between the two of you and rest your shoulder against his knee, needing to show your gratitude, needing to be closer to him
he rests his wide palm on your back, a silent assurance
'it's nice to have you here. i used to share with a bunch of my friends - the ones coming over tonight that i told you about this morning, actually - and sometimes it gets lonely in a flat all by myself. i like talking with you.'
you meow, nuzzling against his other hand as he lifts it to stroke the silky spot between your ears
it's amazing, how simple his words are but how he can use them so well, articulating how he feels so boldly
he smiles down at you and you look back up at him, leaning against his hand before he gets up, groaning and cracking his back
his friends will be here soon
he'd warned you this morning, informing you they were noisy but harmless and that if you didn't want to see them, you could hole up in the guest room
they're the first people he's had over since your first night in his flat, and you feel kind of nervous about so many humans, but dk will be there, and you're determined to at least attempt to meet them
anyways, if they're all anywhere close to him, you'll have no problems
still, you stay in the guest room, ears twitching with each arrival
they laugh and chat, their voices carrying through the flat as they jokingly rib each other
occasionally, they have a little karaoke break where they all stop talking to sing along to the song playing on dk's speaker
then there'll be peals of laughter that follow, usually after an exaggerated falsetto note or a scuffling noise which you assume is dancing
it's after their laughter dies down a little when you finally whip up the courage to approach
poking your head into the kitchen, you peer in
there's twelve of them, not including dk, all sitting around the dining table, an array of soju bottles and mainly empty takeaway boxes arranged around them
you're pretty sure they're the same group that you saw the first time you found yourself in dk's garden
one of them spots you in the doorway, and he grins, leaning with his elbows on his knees and opening his palms to you
cautiously, you trot over to him, and he scoops you up, tickling your chin
one of dk's friends across the table gapes at you - he's a bit more drunk than the others (or he holds his liquor less well), and the guy you're sitting on chuckles at his expression
'dk, you got a cat?'
that's the drunk one speaking, his speech a little slurred as his eyes well up with tears
he's a sad drunk, it seems
'dk, you're a dad - '
dk scratches the back of his neck, watching his friend sniffle
'well, hoshi, not a dad, but - '
the guy still holding you adjusts you in his grasp, letting you catch the thoughtful frown on his face
'why didn't you tell us? i thought you were al - '
he's cut off by a sassy looking guy
'jun, just because you want to have a baby shower for a cat doesn't mean all the rest of us do.'
this causes absolute chaos, and the one holding you - jun - lets you down on the floor so he can stand up in order to argue with the sassy guy about the benefits of cat baby shower
navigating your way through the mess of legs under the table, you make your way over to dk
he grins and rubs the spot behind your ears, and you lick his palm before someone grabs you around the middle and cuddles you
you hear dk telling the boys to be careful and it warms your heart a little that he's still looking out for you
he doesn't need to be worried, though
dk's friends are as sweet as he is
you sit with the boys for the rest of the evening
they all leave eventually, trickling out in ones and twos
the last one left is the one they call cheol - he seems to be the protector of the group, and he makes sure dk is alright and helps him clear up a little before he leaves too
once he's out of the door, dk crouches down in front of you
'you okay?'
you blink twice and he grins
'they can be pretty overwhelming and noisy at first, but they're my best friends.'
there's pride shining in his eyes, and you can't help but agree with him - despite their banter, you could tell that they care so much for each other, and for him
'i didn't know whether you wanted them to know you were a hybrid or not, i hope you don't mind that,'
you blink twice again, meowing and padding forward to rub against his shins
you're not quite sure what makes you do that, what primal part of you tells you to put your scent on him, but he chuckles, smile as bright as the sun as always
he scratches at the spot behind your ear and you purr, leaning your head into his touch
'oh - '
you look up, the wonder on his face making it seem like he just made you sprout wings and flash neon
it's cute that he's so proud that he's made you purr
it's been a few months since you first started staying with dk, long enough for the two of you to have a little routine
you cook and clean and generally try to make yourself as helpful as you can around his house while he's at work
he'll write a message for you on the whiteboard every morning, and you'll write your reply during the day
you always come out to greet him at the front door, no matter what
then he'll eat the dinner you made and answer your whiteboard message
from then on, you'll watch a movie with him or just chat
your communication has become easier - sometimes, he'll get his laptop out and you'll type what you're saying, but recently he's gotten scarily good at reading your body language
and no, you still have not worked up the courage to shift into human form yet
you're studiously ignoring the fact that the longer you leave it, the harder it gets
you're also ignoring your previously stated intentions of not staying
you know that this can't go on forever, and even if dk can understand you to an extent, that's not enough and you cost him extra water bills and food
you know he's too kind to bring it up but it eats away at you inside
you're happy to remain blind to the fact that you can't have a proper conversation with him until you shift into human form for now
you tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, whenever later is
another thing that you refuse to acknowledge is your feelings
your fear that you won't be good enough if or when you show him your human form, your fear that you're a dead weight, and worst of all, the growing realisation that he's stupidly fucking handsome
you'd realised but you hadn't realised until one day, after he got back from the gym
his skin had been covered in a light sheen of sweat, and he told you he was going to shower before eating
you'd kind of just blinked at him, too entranced by the amount of skin his tank top was showing
like, what does this guy not have?
he took a little longer than normal in the shower - you heard him absolutely belting out the lyrics to some ballad you'd never heard before, so you trotted down the hallway to listen more closely
and then the door to the bathroom popped open, along with a billow of steam and a delicious lee dokyeom
there was a towel around his hips, low enough to make your stomach twist, and the water rolled down the planes of his chest in a way that made you want to shift into your human form right then and there, just to wrestle that towel off him and kiss him until you ran out of breath
instead, you yowled and jumped about a foot in the air
he just laughed, running a hand through his wet hair to push it out of his eyes before crouching down, telling you he didn't mean to scare you
you meowed and kept your eyes on his face, not on the gap that had opened in the towel due to his bent knees, and definitely not on the wonderful sliver of tanned thigh that showed
the image of dk, damp and glorious under the tinny light of his bathroom, cloaked in steam, often circles around your mind to this day
and it's not just that either - he's also funny and kind and sweet and you feel yourself drowning in his eyes when you look at him too long
just as a reminder: cats do not like water
let alone drowning
the sound of footsteps on the pavement outside dk's front door shake you from your thoughts
there's clearly two people, and you hear dk's voice as the key scrapes in the lock
he's speaking in a tone you've never heard before, low and emotionally charged, like he's angry
you peek into the hallway as the front door opens
dk steps in, followed by a girl you've never seen before, but her scent matches that flowery scent you've smelt on dk a few times before
something sinks inside you
you didn't think he had a girlfriend, which now, in hindsight, seems like a really, really stupid assumption
he's handsome and kind and considerate with a smile brighter than the sun
but then you notice something else - the obvious frown on dk's face
there's a sort of tension in the air, crackling and heavy, like a storm's brewing and there are dark clouds swarming above
she ignores it, instead spotting you and immediately crouching and patting her thighs to try and entice you over as dk shucks off his shoes, face like thunder
she says something to him in an airy voice about him not telling her he had a cat
he shrugs, not mentioning that you're a hybrid and staying silent, which kind of alarms you, because the dk you know is friendly, warm - even when he's angry, it's always firey, nothing like the frigid detachedness in his eyes right now
cautiously, you approach, not really sure what to expect - you're sure she's his girlfriend; now you think about it, you did hear dk's friends discuss it briefly, you just didn't understand at the time
she reaches out to stroke your back, but it brings the cuff of her oversized leather coat near your face
you get a smothering whiff of heavy, masculine cologne that you know is not hers and is definitely not dk's
there's no hint of aftershave, no smell of fresh laundry, and not even a trace of that scent on him that makes you feel warm and comfy
and if this isn't her coat, and it's not dk's, then who's is it?
cheater
hissing, you recoil, your hackles up as you swipe at her hand with your claws out before she can lay a finger on you
you're kind of taken aback by the violence of your own reaction - the tension in the air must be getting to you, too
'oh. it doesn't like me much, you're sure it's not one of those hybrids, right?'
dk's frown deepens into a scowl you've never even seen a hint of on his face, his eyes flashing, filled with something absolutely livid
'let's talk in the kitchen.'
he doesn't even look at her when he says it, and as he turns to go, you can see how hard he's clenching his jaw
you head to the guest room to give them privacy while dk's girlfriend slinks after him
even across the apartment, you can hear too well
it's partly your enhanced cat hearing and partly that new timbre in dk's voice - he's not yelling, nowhere close, but his words carry through the walls
it's the angriest you've ever heard him
you've seen him angry before; frustrated, annoyed, down right incensed, but it always passes quickly, the sun breaking through the clouds with ease - dk doesn't hold grudges
you catch 'cheating' from his sentence, and then suddenly, his girlfriend raises her voice, like she's the one who should be angry, screaming that she doesn't get why he's so worked up over this
that's the exact moment where you want to march into the kitchen and fucking injure her, somehow
punching her in human form would be preferable but you'd be down to claw her eyes out in cat form too
who is she, to cheat on dk, the kindest man alive, then tell him it's nothing? tell him she doesn't know why he's worried?
she doesn't know what she's taking for granted, and she's a fool for that
plus, from what you can hear, he's being half as angry as he really deserves to be, anyway
you sit there in a tense, seething ball of rage, protective and furious on dk's behalf until he puts his foot down
his voice is quieter, more subdued, but he's moved to the kitchen door and you hear him clearly
'get out.'
mentally, you pump your fist in triumph - he should have kicked her out the moment she had the audacity to tell him he shouldn't be getting so worked up about her cheating
in fact, he should have never have let her in in the first place
you hear her screech something over her shoulder about breaking up, as if that wasn't already obvious
honestly, you're kind of embarrassed on her behalf
she should be winning awards for how far her head is up her own ass
dk shuts the door behind her
he doesn't even slam it, just eases it closed like he always does and plods to his room
you hear the rustle of the blankets as he slumps down on the bed, hear the shaky sigh he lets out, and then the heavy silence
you get up and go to his room - the door is ajar, so you peek in
you don't go in; he has every reason to want to be alone, so you hover in the doorway
he lifts his head up and gives you a valiant smile
he looks exhausted
you hop up onto the bed and wait, not wanting to crowd him if he doesn't want contact, but he picks you up and sets you on his chest
you can tell he's fighting with his words as he formulates something to say to you
he stares up at the ceiling, avoiding your eyes until he covers his own with his arm, hiding the upper half of his face in the crook of his elbow
'i found out she was cheating this morning, but i'd suspected it for a while before. i wanted to talk it through with her, give her a chance, you know?'
he squirms and you realise your claws are coming out and poking his chest so you withdraw them and attempt to relax
'she told me i was overreacting, and... yeah. i guess i should have listened to my mum. she's always right.'
he laughs, but it's a loose, raw sound that echoes weakly around the room, and he still won't look at you or uncover his eyes
there's a moment of silence, thick and suffocating with heartache
a sob wrenches from his chest
it's a sharp, painful sound, like he's been holding it in for hours
the floodgates open
dk covers his face with trembling hands, tears leaking out from under his palms
you never thought seeing someone else cry would hurt this much
nudging his hand with your nose, you let him hold you close, rubbing your cheek against his and gently lapping the tears off his face, even as they soak your fur
you feel helpless, like the pieces of his heart are in your hands and you don't know how to fit them back together
he just clings to you, eyes tight shut as his sobs begin to subside
you stay there with him, wishing you could do more as he hides his face in your fur and hugs you close to him
you don't know what that girl was thinking when she decided to cheat on dk
actually, she probably wasn't thinking at all
you kind of want to tell him he's too kind and trusting for his own good, but you know that even if dk was capable of not being like that, he would choose to be the way he is
his hand strokes down your back, and you watch him from where you rest your head on his collarbone
he's staring at the ceiling, and although his eyes are red and a bit puffy and he's sniffling, his crying has subsided a little
dk props himself up on his elbows and gives you a sad smile
'sorry about that. and thanks, too, i - i needed that.'
you huff, tail flicking and smacking against his abdomen - as if he needs to be sorry
nuzzling into the hand he brings up to rub your head, you lick his palm, nudging it with your nose
then you hop off the bed and wait for him to follow you into the kitchen so he eats his dinner
you don't take your eyes off him, not even when he goes to sleep
you curl up in the corner, happy to sleep on the carpet, but he pats the mattress next to him and you can't refuse
it's nice, to sleep beside dk, his body warm and near as he reaches across the bed to run his hand down the fur of your spine and beckon you closer
over the next months, you watch dk heal
you help him heal, too
at least, you hope you do
you make sure to stick close to him
you've slept curled up at the foot of his bed every night since the day of the break up
he calls his mum the day after, and a few of his friends too
he stays strong and determinedly brave in front of the boys, not shedding a tear, but he cries on the phone to his mum
he also cries over a few emotionally fraught kdramas during the first week before you sit on the remote and refuse to move until he chooses another genre
truth be told, you were getting kind of sick of the same plot with different characters, and the pile of tissues on the coffee table in front of the sofa was growing frighteningly large
exactly a month has passed since the break up when, over his dinner, dk announces to you that he's finally installing cat flaps for you
he also mentions that he wants to introduce you to his friends properly, as who you are
the latter comment kind of makes you nervous
his friends are some of the most welcoming, commendable men you've ever interacted with, but a niggling part of your brain wonders if they'll be more sceptical than dk
what if they tell him you're taking advantage of him?
or that you're just a hybrid and don't deserve the kindness he's giving you?
because after all these months with dk, you realised you're not just staying for the roof over your head or the warm meals
you're staying because of dk
you care about him
a lot
not just because you're sort of a little bit hopelessly in love with him, but also because he's kind of... your best friend
he's so sweet and silly and and considerate and funny it makes you want to punch a wall sometimes
you'd protect him with your life
you don't really know how to say it to him, though
there's nothing more you can do in the house, and the words don't seem right on the whiteboard
you wait out the hours until he gets back from work, doing chores around the house or out exploring the neighbourhood through the newly installed cat flap in the back door
or singing in the shower, like you are now
dk's bathroom has very good acoustics
it means you can belt your heart out, happily knowing that dk won't be home for another few hours
you're singing one of the songs dk's friends had been singing the other night
it's kind of sad but also kind of a hoe anthem and the chorus has something about not understanding something - you don't remember the rest of the lyrics
it has a good tune, though, and your own singing combined with the splashing of the shower seals you off from the outside world
which means that when dk gets home early, you don't hear
originally, the only explanation for a female voice coming from his bathroom that he can think of is his ex, but that's dumb because she never had a key in the first place
also, her voice can't even compare to yours
because it is you, he realises
it's you in the shower right now, oblivious to the fact he's home early and is hearing your voice for the first time ever
a little bolt of nervous energy shoots through him, and he panics
what's he supposed to do? should he shout that he's home?
he decides he doesn't want to scare you just in case you panic, so he approaches slowly, hoping to knock on the door and let you know
he soaks up the sound of your voice, a smile playing on his lips, because of course you sound amazing
he's about to knock on the door when the handle turns
wait is all he gets out before suddenly, there you are, right in front of him, wrapped in a towel, cat ears peaking out from your hair that's dripping onto the tiled floor
his brain freezes
shit, you're pretty
you gape at dk
you didn't even hear him come in, let alone him walking down the hallway
this is probably karma from that one time you saw him fresh out of the shower
you'd known that it was inevitable for him to see you in human form at some point, whether it was intentional or not
you just didn't expect it to be so soon, and definitely not like this
oh no
he didn't hear your singing, did he?
instinctively, your hand comes up to make sure the towel around your chest is secure
you're seconds away from shifting and running, but you're rooted to the spot, paralysed by his eyes on you
he blinks a little, as if he's coming to his senses
'...hey,'
that's all he says, his voice soft and wondrous, his eyes sparkling the way they always do, sweet and inviting as the smile pulling at his lips
'hi,'
unfortunately for you, it comes out half strangled and breathy, but a grin immediately appears on his face, his eyes scrunching with happiness
he hasn't looked away once, gaze roving over your face as if he's committing you to memory, and you feel a hot blush begin to creep over you
'i, uh, let me go change.'
you scurry back into the bathroom, almost tripping over the bathmat as you shuck on a shirt and trousers, small tremors going through your hands
you tell yourself it's fine
because it is fine - you're not scared of dk, you trust him, it' just... you should have shifted for him ages ago
placing your hand on the door handle, you take a deep breath
turning back to the mirror, you hastily fix your hair before biting the bullet and opening the door
dk waits outside, leaning against the wall, still smiling
when you peek out, half hiding behind the door, his grin widens, and he opens his arms
you barely need to think, your body just moves, and then he's got you tight in his embrace, your nose pressed into his chest: just like that, any semblance of unease or self consciousness you were feeling evaporates like the space between you
slowly, you breathe in, then out
he smells like he always does - laundry, aftershave, and the scent that you've begun to associate with home
you sigh, resting your forehead on his chest so you don't have to look at him when you speak
'well, that wasn't so hard for me, was it?'
he laughs, eyes dancing, and with that, everything is back to normal
it doesn't matter which form you're in, it's still dk, and it's still you
you talk to him for ages - first over dinner, and then the two of you move to the couch, losing track of time as you fill him in, answering every question he fires your way
his sincerity makes your heart flutter: he clings onto your every word as if it's precious
in the end, you wind up telling him how you got to the situation you were in before
you lay yourself bare, letting your walls down for him to see the scars on your soul
you're not sure when the tears pricking at your eyes spill over, but dk wipes them away gently, spreading his arms for the second time tonight, letting you soak the front of his hoodie with your tears
he tucks your head against his shoulder, his hand rubbing up and down your back the way he always does
his heartbeat is comforting under your ear
you fall asleep like that, held safely in dk's embrace
things continue as normal, even with your human form revealed
you realise how stupid you were for worrying so much about things changing when you shifted into your human form
you talked to dk about how you feel like a burden, how although he doesn't mind, you don't like relying on him to pay the bills, and how you want to get a job
he reassured you that it was fine but after seeing the look of determination on your face, he realised there was no point in opposing you
so he pulls some strings (more like cheol pulls some strings) to get you a part time job in the local library
it's just three days a week, but the important thing is that you get paid and treated the same as any human would
your boss is a little old lady with very thick reading glasses
she bakes you cakes sometimes, and once she's fed you a slice or two, she forces you to take the rest home
it's not anything like your old job, but neither would you want it to be
it doesn't pay your bills either, but it's a happy compromise
dk claims that coming home every day to a meal that you cooked is worth the money of those bills a hundred times over, anyway
you also officially meet his friends
they're sweet, a bit noisy and chaotic at first, but they make sure to keep you included in the conversation despite all the private jokes that they seem to have
they act a bit like a huge family unit (they bicker like brothers)
despite their closeness with each other, it doesn't push you away
they didn't even care that you were a hybrid
you caught a knowing look pass between the one called joshua and the one called jeonghan when dk introduced you, but you're not really sure what it could have been about
you were probably just imagining it, to be honest
anyways, aside from occasionally attending their boys nights (on demand, they always clamour for you to join them), the little routine you and dk made is still very much the same
you still cook for him, except now you wait and eat dinner with him
there's never a dull moment with dk, and he makes you laugh until you can't breathe
he's made it his personal goal over dinner to make you laugh so hard you snort food up your nose again
you talk about everything and anything to him
he'll tell you about a funny thing at work and you'll tell him about a customer at the library and somehow that will bring you to a debate on hogwarts houses
today he sits across from you, the food on his plate already all long gone and eaten while you're just finishing up with yours
'you know, i'm allergic to cats.'
you gape
because he's what now?
'you're what now?'
'well, not to you, i guess. maybe you're hypoallergenic?'
now you think of it, you do remember one of his friends almost saying something about that the first time you ever saw them
it might have been jun, you can't quite remember
'you know, when you first sat next to me on the sofa, i was panicking because i didn't know what to do with cats.'
you snort
you address him as you get up, dumping your plate in the sink before proceeding to dive onto the sofa
'you didn't know what to do with cats? you just stroke us, dk.'
he follows suit, and you're propelled upwards due to the force that he lands on the sofa cushions with
'yeah, but it's different from how you stroke dogs. it doesn't matter, anyways, because i still got you to purr.'
he crosses his arms and smiles smugly
you throw back your head and laugh, realising why he looked so proud when he found the spot behind your ear
actually, you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and it's only egged on by the small indignant noise that leaves him at your reaction
eventually, you need to catch your breath, and as you wipe the tears from your eyes, you glance over at dk
your heart lurches
he's staring
there's this look on his face, in his eyes, that burns
his lips are slightly parted, and suddenly the air between the two of you is charged in a way that makes your heartbeat pound loud in your ears
his gaze flicks down from your eyes, down to your mouth, then back up, and all of a sudden, you can't breathe
you can't even think as he leans closer, his breath ghosting over your lips
your head spins, fear and elation fighting for control
is he... is he going to kiss you?
his hand comes up to cup your cheek, his slender fingers warm and so undoubtedly right
like it's meant to be
'can i kiss you?'
his words come out so softly that you could almost believe you imagined them, if not for that look in his eyes
it's deep and immense, full of want, full of longing
it sweeps you up in its arms, promising you the love you only dare to dream of
it's beautiful
it's everything
also, it's fucking terrifying
panic grips your swelling heart and crushes it
he can't want you, he shouldn't - you're a hybrid, he's a human, it will never work, you'll just get hurt when he realises you're not good enough, when he realises how much harder it is to be associated with your kind, you can't disappoint him -
leaping off the sofa, you shift into cat form and sprint for the back door
you shoot right through the cat flap and run, legging it to the end of the garden and launching yourself over the fence
despite your speed, you still spare dk a backward glance
he sits, frozen on the sofa, his head turned towards you, eyes wide and bewildered
they're brimming with regret and what you'd like to imagine is sorrow
you never thought the ache of yearning in your chest would be returned, so you let it carve out a space for him in your heart
you didn't think he'd try to fill it, you didn't think he'd be dumb enough to want a hybrid like you
that night, you try to leave
you try to walk down the road, away from dk's house, away from dk and his comforting scent and warm hands
you can't
your soul seems tethered to his, and you can't bring yourself to cut the strings
you spend the night sitting in the garden next to his, tail curled around your paws, bathed in the glow of his kitchen lights that don't turn off until around three am in the morning
you shiver in the dark, fighting with yourself until you decide to go back, to talk it out with him because that's what he deserves
you hate to slink back to him after being such a coward, but you need him to know that you do want him, that if you were a human, if you were good enough for him, you would have kissed him in a heartbeat
quietly, you slip through the cat flap make your way into the guest room
it's changed so much since the first night you spent in it - dk moved most of the boxes out of it, making it your room, even though you sleep in his most of the time
there's a selfie of you and dk, wrapped up in blankets for movie night, and a group photo of you and the boys halfway through the most chaotic game of cards you've ever participated in
you're determined not to lose this, lose them
you're determined not to fuck this up more than you already have
quickly, you shift and change into your clothes, just to stand in the middle of the room, not entirely sure what to do with yourself
you remain there, silently fretting, until there's a soft tap on the door
your breath catches in your throat but you manage to wheeze out a somewhat convincing 'come in'
dk peeks in and leaves the door open - you're aware that he's left it that way to give you a clear escape route
he chews on his lip, running a hand through his hair, and you notice that he looks tired, as if he hasn't slept all night
'i heard you come in, and i just wanted to say that i... i'm sorry. i didn't mean to overstep the boundaries. i just - you're... i'm sorry i messed up. asking to, um, you know, wasn't a good idea on my part, i don't - i didn't know what i was doing, i kind of just...'
he sighs, looking at you sheepishly once he realises he was rambling
'please don't go?'
that's the moment you give in
you let go of it, of everything, and let yourself fly into freefall
stepping forward, you hook an arm around his neck, sinking your other hand into his hair, bringing his face down to yours to fit your lips to his
he makes a soft, awed noise, his fingers curling around your waist to press you closer to him
he tastes divine, like heaven, like the best kind of destiny
the feel of his lips against yours becomes everything you'll ever need
hesitantly, you begin to pull away, words already forming on your tongue, but then he darts forward to steal another sweet, sweet kiss from you, and then you're drowning in him again
he tangles his hands in your hair, his fingertips brushing over your ears, tracing their shape as if to show you that he doesn't care what you are
when he eventually breaks the kiss off, he presses a finger to your lips before you can draw a breath
'don't tell me i don't know what i'm getting into. i thought i lost you, i thought you were leaving, and i couldn't... please, just let me love you.'
he immediately cringes at his own words, and you let your head fall forward until your forehead rests against his chest, huffing out a laugh
'i'm sorry i freaked out before, i - i got scared. then i didn't know what to do so i just kind of ran. i didn't mean to scare you.'
he pouts cutely, in a way that makes you want to poke his cheeks
'well, you did. i - '
you cut him off with a kiss, just to taste him again if not to shut him up
his hands find your hips, drawing you closer to him
'i think i love you.'
the confession slips out of you, mumbled onto his lips before you can stop it, but all he does is smile into the kiss
'i think i love you too.'
when the boys find out, they tease dk mercilessly while somehow also hyping him up
seungcheol, jeonghan and hoshi all claim to have known about it from the start, although everyone knows hoshi is just saying that
jeonghan purposefully sits next to you just to quietly tell you about how he managed to get dk drunk enough one time for him to confess that he was in love with a cat
dk gets pouty about it later, so you kiss his face all over until he smiles again
in fact, he pretends to sulk a lot to get kisses from you
sometimes, you'll catch him just staring at you with a huge grin on his face
he makes a point to hold your hand in public, telling you that he's proud of having you
his sweet words make it easy for you to brush off the stares of the people on the bus, easy for you to ignore the way they whisper
sometimes dk kisses you and loudly calls you disgustingly sappy pet names in front of them, just out of spite
you realise now that they don't really bother you, not when dk doesn't care about them and not when he loves you the way he does - unconditionally
he shows it in the way he hangs onto your every word, in the way he cooks your favourite dishes for you, in the way he holds you, in the way he kisses you as if you're the most precious thing in the universe
you take every opportunity to show him how much you love him, too
hence why you're up early, cooking breakfast for dk
it's a saturday, and the sun leaking through the curtains woke you, even though it didn't even affect dk - he remained snoring beside you, his legs tangled with yours and his arms locked around your waist
you'd eased your way out of his grip and replaced yourself with a pillow, pressing a light kiss onto his forehead before shifting into your human form and pulling one of his t-shirts over your head
most nights, you sleep in your human form, but he'd been hogging the blankets so you'd shifted into your cat form in a desperate effort to make it easier for you to squirm into his blanket burrito
'what're you smiling about, huh?'
you almost drop the pancake you were transferring to a plate already heaped high and steaming with others
his arms wrap around your waist, and you sigh as he kisses your neck
'actually, i was thinking about how rude it was of you to steal the blankets last night, you sneaky little bastard.'
'hmm, my bad.'
he nips at your neck before his tongue flicks out to brush over the same spot
his hands wrap around your hips, and you sigh noncommittally as he sneaks his fingers under the hem of your - his - t-shirt
'babe, the pancakes will get cold - '
'don't care.'
you don't even try to shake him off as he continues to kiss at your neck from behind, nudging the collar of your shirt to the side so he can suck a hickey onto your shoulder
the air of the kitchen is cold on your bare legs, but he's nice and warm and solid, and you lean back into him, eyes closing as he laves his tongue over your skin
a low purr emnates from deep in your chest, and you feel him pause at your back
'that's never happened before,'
'and?'
'it was kind of hot.'
you huff out a laugh, but it's cut off as he spins you around, gripping your chin so he can kiss you
dk kisses you passionately, like he woke up with the one desire to taste every inch of your mouth, his teeth grazing dizzyingly over your lower lip
he grins against you when you moan at the feel of his tongue against yours
hooking your arms over his shoulders, you draw him closer
picking you up, he deposits you on the island, not breaking the kiss
he slots himself between your legs, his fingers skimming over the tops of your thighs, pushing the hem of your shirt a little higher
hooking an ankle around his hip, you nestle your heel in the small of his back, nudging him closer
something in your stomach pulls wonderfully tight when you feel the grind of his hardening cock against your clothed cunt
he chuckles at the involuntary noise that leaves you, one of his hands coming up to cup your breasts as he leans down, palms dragging down the length of your thighs as he hooks them over his shoulders
he helps you shimmy out of your underwear, chucking them carelessly over his shoulder
and then, just like that, he's got his mouth between your legs, spreading your pussy with his fingers, his eyes disarmingly guileless
his tongue is divinely velvet as he sweeps it through your folds
he tastes you as if your essence is the nectar of the gods, teasing the pleasure out of your body, holding your trembling thighs up with his big hands
as you come, convulsing around his tongue, he looks up at you with stars in his eyes, as if you're a goddess
it's ridiculous, the way he can make your heart flutter while fucking eating you out like a man starved
he straightens, kisses you with honey drenched lips that bear a virtuous smile, and lifts you up in his arms so he can make love to you on the sofa
he makes your eyes roll, makes your toes curl, makes you cry his name, sets you alight with his touch
and when he sends you over the edge, coming with you, when he scoops you up in his arms, sets you on the bathroom sink to clean you up, when he kisses you in the shower, you know one thing
you are willingly trapped in his gravity; you orbit him as if he is the star at the centre of the universe, yet somehow he looks at you with a light in his eyes, like you are the sun, the warmth on his skin, the reason for life
you love this man, irrevocably so, and somehow, miraculously, he loves you back
117 notes · View notes
asuyaka · 6 months
Note
Hello there! It's the anon who made the Gojo x affectionate reader request, I have to say I absolutely love your writing, it's so adorable and wholesome!
Anyways, I wanted to make a similar request like the one I previously asked for, but with a different scenario- kinda.
So my prompt is that Reader is like Mitsuri(not female tho, but if you're ok with it maybe make them a bit effeminate? Like the soft boy aesthetic!), they are a 1st grader but have enough strength to beat even the strongest adult in Jujutsu High to the ground like a ragdoll, they're very sweet and affectionate and just precious in general. They are best friends with Gojo and Geto and were sent to deliver the Star Plasma Vessel with the boys since their strength and durability can put them in the same level as a Special Grade student.
Now here is where this whole scenario actually takes place; Reader somehow managed to enter the domain(?) that Suguru and Toji were fighting on, unfortunately they only manage to get to where they are after Toji had already defeated Geto and after seeing their best friend now bloodied and unconscious on the ground, Reader gets very pissed off and make it their personal goal to give Toji some righteous ass whooping for what he did to their friends and Amanai. And after they took care of Toji they took Geto and ran out of the domain before it could collapse on them.
Sorry if that's a long request! I like making my asks as detailed as I can and tend to go overboard, especially if it's about my current hyperfixations. I hope you' have a great day/afternoon/night! Also remember to stay hydrated and take breaks!😁
- Sincerely, 🌈 Anon.
★ - 'm so glad you liked it !! o(*////▽////*)q req's a tiny bit confusin' but 'm think 'm got the general gist of it!! :3
★ - 'm sorry but 'm wasn't exactly sure who the main character was, so 'm decided ta use em both cauze yanno they're right there!! ^_^
☆ - Teen! Satosugu x Male Reader — can be read as platonic or romantic!
♡ - Zuha's a bit silly n doesn't know how t'write fight scenes s'forgive 'im if it isn't suuuper good! ꒰#’ω`#꒱੭
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This whole 'merging' with Riko was extremely taxing on you, Suguru, and Satoru, but it's almost over so you three can relax and play Digimon 'till you passed out!
"Uwaaa! I'm so tired..." You mutter, leaning on Suguru's shoulder as your group climbs the stairs leading to Tengen's barrier around Jujutsu High.
Riko beside you huffs. "You can at least pretend not to be!"
"I'm sure [Name] didn't mean anything by it." Kuroi smiles softly as the five of you finally reach the top of the stair way, safely inside Jujutsu High barriers.
You let out a sigh of relief. At first, you weren't entirely sure why you were put on the mission, you're only a first-grade sorcerer while Suguru and Satoru were special grades, but Yaga chalked it up to you being strong enough and your friends needing someone responsible to be with.
The mission took more out of Satoru than anyone else, you and Suguru were heavily aware of that. On Day Two, you stayed up with him the entire night, busying yourself with whatever videos you could find and an unhealthy amount of Sakura Mochi.
You hear Suguru tell Satoru he worked hard, and he did. Harder than the two of you could thanks to his technique. You make a mental note to yourself to treat the two of them to food when the merging is finally complete.
"I never wanna get stuck babysitting a brat again." Satoru rolls his eyes, the blue glow that indicated he was using his Six Eyes dissipating.
You walk up behind him and hug Satoru from behind. "Goob job 'toru!" You make sure not to squeeze too tight, he was tired and you didn't want to make him physically hurt too.
The next thing that happens, hurts.
You feel something— it's sharp — enter your abdomen and exit through Satoru's sternum.
The two of you instinctively look back. You're inside the barrier which is supposed to protect you from any intruders, but obviously from the blood that's piling up your throat, it didn't.
Satoru uses a small version of Blue and Suguru uses a curse. It hurt, obviously. You couldn't use your technique to nullify it because it wouldn't do it's job of hurting the man behind you, so you let it pass.
You breathe to calm yourself and analyze your situation. Your eye is bruised, not blind but there is blood obscuring your vision. You definitely have internal bleeding, but it missed vital spots so you can suck it up and deal with it.
Satoru and Suguru are talking about something, but you're worried about Riko and Kuroi— some could argue that you should be worried about the hole in your stomach but your injuries come later, Riko and Kuroi need to be safe.
"Suguru, [Name], get them to Tengen-sama."
Suguru tenses, gazing between you three before nodding. "Be careful!"
You get up, internal bleeding be dammed, grabbing Riko's arm and running the other way with Suguru.
The bleeding of your eye gets worse with every step and you have to keep running despite coughing up blood more times than is healthy. Suguru looks back at you, worried, but you assure him you're okay.
You can't let Satoru down. You can't let Suguru down, so you force your body to deal with it— force your body to use RCT, something you know like the back of your hand due to your technique.
The four of you reach the elevator that leads to where Tengen stays. Suguru makes sure You, Kuroi, and Riko enter in first before pressing the button for the lowest floor.
"H-here!" Kuroi hands you a handkerchief to clean the blood off your hands. You mumble out a small "thanks" using it to wipe your face as well.
You're strong, you know that. Being a first grade while in the second year is an amazing feat, but fuck you were scared.
You're able to go through Satoru's Infinity just fine, but that's because of your technique. That man, whoever he was, shouldn't be. "Satoru's going to be fine, don't worry," Suguru says as if he can hear your thoughts, patting your arm for reassurance.
If Suguru says everything is going to be okay, then everything is going to be okay. You remind yourself to focus, focus, focus— because after this, you two will go help Satoru, and everyone will be fine.
The elevator stops and the four of you get out. You're beside Suguru and Riko and Kuroi trail behind you. All of a sudden, Kuroi stops.
She's crying and you can feel your heart breaking. This 'merging' thing was fucked up from the get-go. No kid should have to always have in the back of their mind that they're going to die, and there's nothing they can do to stop it.
"Suguru..." You mumble softly. You shouldn't be seeing this— it's private, meant to be between them. Suguru nods. He understands, he knows what's happening is messed up and he's going to do something about it, who cares what Tengen needs?
The walk is silent, unnervingly so but you're about to kill a kid. The thought makes your stomach churn but you do nothing about it. You're strong, you can deal with it.
"Suguru, I'm staying back." You say, hands pressed into a fist and your head hung low. You can't stomach the thought of willingly killing a kid— you won't forgive yourself even though you know you can't do anything about it.
Suguru doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. You were put on the mission last minute, and he knows how empathetic you are.
You watch them make their way to Tengen's territory and you feel sick. You feel sick to your stomach, hunching down and forcing yourself to calm down.
"focus, focus, focus." You say like a mantra to yourself, even though you're scared. You know how to focus if the situation is right, but you just feel nauseous.
You hear steps walking closer and your heart jumps. It's Satoru! Satoru did it and now he's coming back to show that he's a part of the strongest duo in the Jujutsu world.
"Damn. Didn't know they had security here."
Your eyes widen. That voice doesn't sound like Satoru, and it doesn't look a thing like him. It's that man, the same one that went through Satoru's Infinity.
You can see him clearly now thanks to the yellow fluorescent lights on the sides of the wall.
He's more muscular than you you can tell that easily. His hair is flat against his head with eyes that don't have any form of empathy in them, and with a scar on his lip.
You aren't scared, surprisingly, you're angry— fucking livid.
He killed Kuroi, a woman who was so nice, so grateful for the things she'd had in life, a woman who didn't deserve to die. He killed Satoru— he killed the people you care about.
You don't ask questions, you don't stare with your mouth open like a moron, you start fighting.
You're struggling to keep your emotions in check even though the first and basic rule of Jujutsu Sorcery is to not let your emotions get in the way.
The man, whoever he is, grabs your wrist, hastily pocketing his gun and grabbing a knife, stabbing it straight through your sternum and dragging it down to your hip line.
He takes it out, your blood staining his forearm. He switches the way he's handling it and stabs you through your throat.
Your vocal cords and blood vessels are in pain, but you can't yell, can't scream, can't do anything. Your body face-first falls limp on the floor, pushing the knife deeper into your throat to the point it comes out the back of your neck.
He stomps on your head for good measure, grabbing his gun and walking towards where Geto and Riko are.
You feel your heart slowing down as your blood leaks to your fingers. You're dead, you're dead if you don't do something—anything. Your eyes close and blood leaks out of your mouth. You're done for.
The sound of rubble falling wakes you up, your hand twitching before you lug yourself up, the front of your uniform stained with your blood as the energy from your subconscious RCT flares off your body.
You pull the knife from your throat. It stings, obviously, but you don't care about that.
You know for a fact now that Satoru, Kuroi, and Riko are dead. With every step, you hear more crashing and buildings getting destroyed.
Your eyes scan the area. You can feel the output from one of Suguru's stronger curses, it's faint, most likely due to distance, but it's definitely there.
Jumping from the platform, you hastily make your way to where the energy was coming from.
You're there— so close until the building fucking collapses.
Your heart drops when all the dust and smoke clears. Suguru is lying down— is he dead? Oh Suguru, please don't be dead — an 'X' on his torso his eyes are closed and that same fucking man is standing in front of him.
"Shit kid, just can't stay dead can you?" His grin pisses you off. It's full of teeth as his scar grows wider.
He notices your expression, holding back a snicker. It looks just like the curse-eater's when he realized Gojo died. "Might wanna close your mouth, you'll catch a flyhead in there." He snickers, putting the blade he had back into his cursed spirit and getting a smaller weapon with two blades on it.
You grab a weapon out of your back pocket. Your technique barely helps in hand-to-hand combat so you're used to carrying a weapon on you that you're used to using. Why you didn't use it the first time, you aren't sure yourself.
It's a decent-sized blade Yaga had made with the technique of a retired sorcerer. Hammerspace or something, you don't really care. All you need now is that man dead.
You throw the knife at him for a distraction. He deflects it, like you expected. You ducked behind him, your hands curled up into a fist as your hand connected with the blade of his sword.
You had to make this quick so you can tend to Suguru.
Not giving him any time to land on his feet, you grab your blade from the air switching the grip into a reverse hammer and brute-forcing your way through his hand.
The blood splatters on your cheek, grabbing the blade out and using your other arm to hit him from the side.
You take a second to breathe. His arm has a hole in it and he's breathing heavily. That cocky grin finally wiped from his face.
Every single bone in your body was telling you to kill him, to put an end to him right then and there for killing people who didn't deserve it— for killing teenagers.
But then you remember Suguru. Suguru who's lying on the floor somewhere, most likely bleeding out. That is what pulls you out of your anger-infused trance, turning your back to the man and rushing for Suguru.
He doesn't try and kill you, thankfully, but you notice Riko's body is gone.
Pushing all that to the back of your mind, Riko's dead body, her lifeless face— her life that was cut too short because she was born as a vessel, you find Suguru.
His breathing is there, very faint, but it's there. Immediately starting RCT on his body as tears brim your eyes. You're crying now, crying over all the things you should've cried about before but were too busy trying to keep yourself alive— not that you could die anyway, you do RCT subconciously.
"Suguru... Suguru, please open your eyes," Your voice wavers as his uniform gets damp with your tears.
You keep RCT going, pressing your ear where Suguru's heart is as his blood stains your face. You cry over the death of Satoru, you cry that you weren't able to save Kuroi or Riko, you cry about how you couldn't kill the man that would've killed most of the people you knew— most of the people you care about.
"[N-Name]...?"
Suguru's voice sounds so weak. It sounds horse, like he's dehydrated, but it's there— God, Suguru's alive.
"'m sorry- was too weak- 'm so sorry S'gu!" You wail as the tears fall harder, your decently muscular arms wrapped around his torso as you wait for him to berate you, to yell at you for not killing that man when you had the chance.
"[Name]— It's okay, I just... fuck, okay, listen, it wasn't your fault, alright? He had a heavenly pact and from what I can see, you at least caused him to bleed." Suguru's hand wipes the blood on your cheek, his thumb presses against the grass to get the blood from that monkey off him.
"I'll check on Satoru, so wait here, okay?"
You don't have the heart to say no to him. You're too weak, too mentally fatigued to stand up and see the corpse of someone else you loved, someone else you cherished.
So you watch Suguru leave, accompanied by wet sniffles and dry wails, you curl in on yourself and wait obediently for someone to come get you.
You don't know if you're hallucinating, but you swear you see a patch of dark blue hair, blood leaking from Riko's the person's head before you pass out.
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328 notes · View notes
rzyraffek · 9 months
Note
Hello I have a NSFWish?? Request could you do Eddie Gluskin and maybe Brahms W a pervy s/o? Like always checking them out, grabbing their booty and pecs - I know you've done some NSFWish stuff and this isn't explicit so I thought it'd be okie!
Thank you!!
- 🎨
O my god your a genius, I swear those guys are not expecting that! I hope that you don't mind adding few characters 😈 rest of notes at the end
They/them, Request open (yeah I know im taking long time to write but its summer time this person (me) is going o u t s i d e )
Slashers with pervy s/o
Eddie Gluskin
BRO TAKES IT AS INVITATION
Litteraly slaps their ass back
Kinda suprised at first, not used to people being so straightforward with him... and so brave... and- oh my darling your so...so...
bro caught simping
When they slapped him first time he just slowly turns around, he is about to whoop that ass HARDD
I swear anything playfully or just straightforward creepy/pervy this dude sees as flirt and a suggestion
But completely oblivious to their stares and eyes wandering in places, untill he looks at them directly he won't notice, BCS NOONE EVER YKNOW DID THAT TO HIM HE DOESNT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT
Brahms Heelshire
I just realised that hes name is so british... omg just say it out loud BRAHMS HeelSHIRE this dude is more british than queen herself (rip btw) LIKE IF anyone in amercia or anywhere else really was named brahms fucking heelshire he would be bullied so hard. Tbh maybe that's why he's in walls
Feels threatened... he was suppose to be pervy one! Not his s/o :((
At least you guys have fun running around mansion and slapping eachothers ass??? Yay relationship goals!!!
Man says "I mean I support equal rights" just to trow them from stairs or something
Also HE LITTERALY BLUSHES when they touch him normally NOW IMAGINE IF S/O does that to his bootie
"Are you checking me out again? Stoophh"
Pls he just tries to cuddle when he feels their arms slowly moving lower and lower and- hold up what do you think your doing love?🤨😳
Asa Emory
No
Nuh uh
You dont
He will litteraly cut their hands off if they try to do anything skechy
Hes so dreamy
Pov: asa just cutting vegetables for dinner, vibing, then suddenly out of dark corridor, emerges goblin-like creature (s/o) with evil grin, running to attack him, he tries to dogde it, but their evil arms are too quick, goblin smacks his ass so hard he collapses(dramatically), Asa feels the wave of embarrassment and dies immediately
Its currently 4am
Tbh he kinda likes the attention, like s/o is such a simp for him rn, his ego loves itttt
If some stuff doesr make sense im sorry, its 4am and I want to clear my inbox asap cuz I feel bad for all people that are waiting for my fics. Although you still can request!!! Im just trying to get some ideas for old ones (cuz tbh some of yall dont really have ideas for requests and just say "write for this dude ok bye" 😔😔 plz ily all but I cant work with that, I need some sort of idea, even boring one or overused
216 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 8 months
Note
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
I LOVE LUCK
First of all pairing Gaz with Luck was genius
But the way you told the story??????
Luck being so enamoured for Gaz that they would risk everything and rationalising it as their selfish demon nature even as every act of luck they perform is above and beyond
I know that all the demons are slightly yandere-esque stories but the way Luck is besotted with this man gives the vibes of those cheesy supernatural media where the fem mc has a bad boy swooning over her that would burn the world down for her - except Gaz is the mc!!!!
It's perfect! Let him be a damsel!!!!
Idk how much he knows about Luck's influence BC he's not stupid and once he knows their powers there's only so much "oh whoops looks like they have bad aim" you can rationalise away, he might not know exactly when he started getting more luck tho if (from how you described it) the powers of the universe seem to let him absorb the natural well of luck that exists.
It might be harder for him to pinpoint exactly when if Luck is the type to take credit for stuff just for the possibility of praise and attention - which they clearly adore coming from him. "A miracle - your heart swells, that's you!" And "he jokes about a lucky streak and you beam with pride"
I just wanna make him my baby girl. I wanna protect him, let him give me his little neck tie thing like a Princess gives her Knight a favour
I truly love the demon au bc it somewhat feels like a role reversal from the fae au where now the characters are the darlings
(also I think I've sent asks before as myself or as anon I can't remember but Tumblr likes to eat my asks for some reason)
Gaz as the damsel lmao yeah kinda. Gaz gets a demon handbook, and reads it, but I don't think he fully understands how Luck's powers work... Luck isn't hiding from him, let's be clear on that, but it's very much the sort of vibe of "luck isn't really a power, I'm not trying to win the lottery" while Gaz figures out how to make Luck useful.
Anyway here's Luck performing some truly spectacular magical luck and Gaz trying to explain it away because he's not supposed to tell people he has a demon looking out for him.
Little things are easy, you don't really need to exert any energy for them. An enemy comes around a corner before Gaz can spot them and you make their gun jam before they can take a shot. Someone throws a knife at Gaz, you make sure it flies over his shoulder and lodges into another AQ's head. Extra bullets in a mag, extra mags in the rubble when he's running low, passwords on paper next to computers, unlocked doors, keys left in cars. All of it is lucky, but nothing spectacular. Nothing combat worthy. Then again you're not technically a combat demon.
"Certainly make life easier," Gaz mumbles as he slinks through the tunnels under the city.
"I know, but-" You're picking up bad habits, draping yourself over his shoulder as he moves, "-I guess I just want to give you a miracle, y'know."
"You've given me plenty already," He tells you. You suppose you have, but nothing that deserves any praise. You want him to tell you, you did something spectacular. Not that you can tell him. It's already heaven enough being able to sit and talk to him like this, you don't want to taint it with false compliments.
You sigh and content yourself with just touching him, something you never could've enjoyed before. Every breath he takes is a small reward for your work. You could never regret contracting yourself to him, not when he's so warm and sturdy under you.
"Tell me about that book you've been reading," Gaz whispers when you've been silent too long. You smile, and duck your head against his shoulder, shy even though you know he can't see you.
"You'd like it," You tell him, murmuring the most recent plot points you've read until you see him smile in the low light. You like how well Gaz seems to have adjusted to you, you hope that means he likes you too.
He holds up a hand and you quiet down, sinking into the shadows so he has full range of movement. You can hear the buzz of radio in his ear. He and Soap are supposed to be sweeping the city for weapons caches, sabotaging what they can before they meet in the middle. So far Gaz has been lucky enough to destroy the caches he's found without being detected. More easy luck, nothing worth kicking up a fuss over.
Gaz keeps his gun at the ready as he goes up a flight on concrete stairs. Back to the fresh air of the city. The night is thick with dark silence.
You're starting to get a little itchy, things are going almost too well. You've been keeping enemy combatants away from Gaz, eager to not have a repeat of the IED that bound your contract. You think it's starting to make him a little nervous, because he lets out a held breath when he spots Soap. It's a short reunion, a solid bump of knuckles between the two men.
"Easy," Soap tells him, "Barely saw a soul."
You frown, you don't like the sound of that. That was supposed to be your luck. Unless those caches were meant to be found. A spotlight clicks on, marking Soap and Gaz's position. Around them guns raise, and safeties flip off.
They both freeze, surrounded and in open air. It's lucky they haven't been shot yet. Must be looking to use them for intel. Soap swears under his breath. Gaz grits his teeth, you can see his jaw clench tight. Overhead a helicopter hovers, the spotlight on the back focused on the two sergeants, keeping them visible.
You feel yourself tremble a little, such a clear and serious threat to Gaz's life making you uneasy. You're really not used to combat, it's unfamiliar to you, a thing you used to watch with no dreams to ever experience it yourself. You don't know what to do, all you know is that you have to protect Gaz. You can't shoot knives out of the shadows, or remove organs with surgical precision, you can't do anything that would make you useful to a soldier. What you are though, is lucky. Miraculously so.
One of the enemy's guns misfires, knocking them off balance. They bump into another combatant, who's itchy finger pulls the trigger on an automatic that swings its spray of bullets skyward. Gaz glances up and watches a few stray bullets hit the helo with precision aim he wouldn't even dream up. Making the hovering chopper smoke and spin out, crashing into a church steeple.
The helo explodes, the noise loud enough to draw the attention of the men who still have their aim on him and Soap. Suddenly, miraculously, the blades of the helicopter fly from the explosion and spin towards the AQ agents. Gaz grabs Soap to duck just as the blades chop off the head of every man still standing.
"Steamin' hell," Soap breathes, as the blades thunk into a wall and stick there.
"That was-"
"A fuckin' miracle." Soap finishes for him, standing back to his full height.
"Luck," Gaz grins, "You are a fuckin' wonder." You preen as he glances down at his excitedly bubbling shadow. You can't help the little popping hearts that rise to the surface, quick bursts of your affection before you can rein it in. He presses his fingers to his lips, then to the dark shadows at his feet before standing.
"No one is going to believe this," Soap looks around at the carnage, blissfully(luckily) ignorant of the demonic activity at Gaz's feet, "Shit I don't even believe it."
"Gonna be a hell of a report," Gaz tells him. He glances around the scene as Soap radios position back to Price. The absolute absurdity of the entire situation making him laugh a little. "Bloody hell," He shakes his head, lets out another bark of laughter, "How'd you even manage this love?"
"Just lucky I guess," You mumble, trying to keep from blowing out every light on the block in your excitement. Love... You could scream.
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imthebadguyyy · 8 months
Text
Lay All Your Love On Me
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pairing - charles leclerc x reader
fandom - f1
synopsis - a look back into your relationship pt i pt ii
a/n - inspired by my obsession with the mamma mia soundtrack, enjoy!
"i want to tell y/n that i love her"
while the statement had been easy enough to make, charles hadn't really figured out exactly how he planned to tell you, his best friend, his closest friend, his confidante, and the love of his life that, well, he was so head over heels for you the whole world seemed upside down.
he also hasn't anticipated the reaction he received from his family. his mother of course, was overjoyed that her son was finally telling her unofficial daughter that he loved her. but the person who was the most excited of all was of course, arthur.
when charles told carla and him that he was going to tell you he loved you, arthur let out the loudest whoop he had ever managed to vocally produce in his life.
"FINALLY MON FRERE!" he exclaimed, startling carla, who was just as excited. "mon dieu, calme toi" my god, calm down charles said, suppressing a laugh at his brother's antics.
"how can i calm down?!?! ive been waiting for this day since I was thirteen and realized I wanted y/n to officially be in our family and ever since you have been pining over her like a puppy I am allowed to be excited!!" he shouted, now doing a strange version of the rumba around the yacht.
all the commotion he was causing caught lorenzo's attention, who strolled out with a drink in his hand and charlotte by his side, who had been rudely awoken from her nap by arthur's over enthusiastic celebrations.
"arthur, pourquoi cries-tu?" arthur, why are you shouting? enzo asked, leaning against the railing. "yes arthur, some of us are trying to sleep" charlotte laughed, leaning against the railing as well.
"well, dear enzo, it seems that notre chere frere is finally confessing his undying love and affection for our favourite person" our darling brother arthur smiled widely.
"non, c'est vrai?" no, is this true? enzo asked, genuinely surprised.
"oui" charles smiled, blushing slightly at all the excitement. he hadn't expected the delightful swarm of butterflies fluttering from his heart to his tummy, plunging into the depths of his soul, as he thought of you and the possibility of finally confessing his love for you.
"well that's amazing! it's about time too" charlotte joked with a laugh. "i agree charles, it's been so long that you like her" enzo smiled, clapping his brother on the back.
"isn't this so exciting? now y/n can finally offically be the third sister in our trio!" carla exclaimed excitedly, already making a billion plans on how the three of you would bond. she already shared a very close bond with charlotte, and had always held a soft spot for you.
charlotte also was very fond of you, and pascale had once joked that charlotte was your big sister and you were carla's. she has secretly hoped to see all three of you as her daughter in law's one day, and finally, she thought her dream was one step closer to becoming a reality.
"so how are you going to tell her?" arthur asked, crossing his arms, deep in thought.
"i think i know exactly how, but i need your help in convincing her to join me. she's been distant... and i don't know if she'll want to see me at all" he admitted.
"of course she will, she loves you so much" enzo said, having picked up on your affection for his brother at an early age. enzo had also secretly hoped that you and charles would get together years ago, having seen the both of you joined at the hip since you were six.
but he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a hint of protectiveness towards you. after your father had passed, you had turned to enzo as a leading figure in your life, and he had stuck with you through thick and thin. as much as lorenzo loved his brother, he also knew his dating history wasn't the prettiest.
so it only seemed natural that once the excitement had died down in the slightest, he took charles aside for a talk.
"charles, i'm very happy that you've decided to take this decision, truly i am-" he started, but charles cut him off.
"je sais ce que tu es sur le point de dire, que je n'ai pas la meilleure histoire en matière de rencontres avec des femmes et que je ne suis pas vraiment un très bon petit ami. mais enzo, je te promets que je ne pourrais jamais lui faire de mal, jamais. je regrette sincèrement toutes les erreurs que j'ai commises, et je ne peux pas imaginer ma vie sans y/n à mes côtés, non seulement en tant qu'amie, mais en tant qu'amoureuse et partenaire pour la vie, si elle veut bien" i know what you're about to say, that I don't have the best history with dating women and that I am not exactly a very good boyfriend. But enzo, i promise that i could never ever hurt her. i truly regret all the mistakes I've made, and i can't imagine my life without y/n by my side, not just as a friend, but as my lover and partner for life, if she'll have me. I swear i try my hardest to be the best I can for her, always" charles said, emotion brimming deep in his eyes.
lorenzo took a second to respond, pondering over his brother's words thoughtfully.
"je te fais confiance. elle mérite le meilleur dans la vie, charles. elle a traversé des moments difficiles et a passé de nombreuses années à cacher ses sentiments pour toi. je l'aime profondément, et elle est tout aussi importante pour moi que tu l'es. j'ai besoin de savoir que tu ne lui feras pas de mal, car je refuse de la voir souffrir à nouveau, d'accord ? mais je sais que tu es un homme bien, le meilleur frère que je puisse avoir. alors, fonce. mais s'il te plaît, pour son bien, sois le charles que nous connaissons."
i trust you. she deserves the very best in life, charles. She has been through tough times, and has spent many years hiding her feelings from you. i love her greatly and she is just as important to me as you are. i need to know that you won't hurt her because i refuse to see her in pain again, okay? but i know you're a good man, and the best brother i could ask for. So go for it. But please, for her sake, be the charles we know"
charles nodded, understanding reaching out to pull his brother into a hug.
"je l'aime. et je ne te décevrai pas non plus." i love her. and i won't let you down either, charles murmured, and lorenzo clapped him on the back again. "i know. you deserve happiness, the both of you" he said, and with another quick hug, he left charles with his thoughts on the boat.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
unbeknownst to charles, you were still stuck in a state of misery, believing your best friend, who was incidentally the man you were hopelessly in love with, was never going to love you back.
the harsh reality of that thought had been best expressed in the studio, and you found yourself writing song after song about unrequited love, and about the pains of falling in love with your best friend.
jack antonoff relaxed in his chair, stretching after almost six hours straight of recording and producing your latest heartbreak melody. you were forever grateful for him, and his endless patience with your indecisiveness and emotions.
he had been so understanding about your emotional dilemmas, spending many a wine drunk evening listening to you ramble and helping you convert it into beautiful songs that had you in tears.
"i think we should definitely release this one" you mused, headphones on and listening to the song you had just finished recording.
"i think we should record all 142 songs we've made but yes, this one is...something special" he admitted.
"but is it too obvious? is it too vulnerable? am i leaving the door open to criticism and hate and negative reviews? it's nothing like what we usually make but it's.. it's something I need to share" you admitted, half to jack and half to yourself.
"look, you are at the height of your career and your music has been nothing short of phenomenal. of course people will comment, of course you're being vulnerable, but isn't that what we do? isn't that why we write music? isnt it because we need a healthy outlet for our emotions, so you can express yourself?" he asked sincerely, and you found yourself nodding.
"yes..." the hesitation was still there. vulnerability didn't exactly stem from the music, but rather, from the fear of what charles would think. surely he would connect the dots and realise it was about him? surely he would notice that his best friend was singing soft croonings about her undying love for him, and how badly she longed for him? surely so many years of friendship meant he had a passageway into her mind and heart? surely, right?
"my father once told me 'the fear of vulnerability is a fortress we build to shield our hearts from the unknown', you told jack, eyes looking beyond him to the view of the blue sea out the window, "and i think that's why i feel this... nervousness. ive spent almost a decade being in love with my best friend, and putting out a song like this? people will speculate. i don't want to ruin his life..." you trailed off, insecurity seeping into your tone.
"i understand. but you're not ruining his career. yes, people can speculate but you don't need to confirm or deny those speculations. the media can be cruel y/n. we know that. but we don't stop that from doing what we do best" he said, and you nodded.
"okay. next week" you said.
"thats soon" jack said, adding the finishing touches to the song.
"one day or day one" you said, standing up to make the call to your team.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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liked by charlesleclerc, billieeilish, lilymunihe, lewishamilton, charlotte2304, bellahadid and 2,706, 587 others
@yourinstagram - someone like you. out now.
tagged - @jackantonoff
user12 : oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god
user 13 : MAAM YOU CANNOT KEEP DROPPING BEAUTIFUL SURPRISE SINGLES AND EXPECT US TO BE OKAY 😭😭
user 77 : her voice, the piano, the high notes, the production - jack and y/n are the most elite singer producer combo ever
user22 : idk why but i get the sense this song is about charles? i mean "i heard that you've settled down" i mean he isn't married but she's clearly insinuating a relationship that she wishes she had with someone she loves and is close with... and who is her best friend..it's charles leclerc... "old friend" seems so fitting
-user23 - you're delulu (i believe you)
-user16 - let THEM COOK
user23 : she looks STUNNING
user65 : why does she look like a GODDESS and an ANGEL
lilymunihe : crying in a walmart parking lot because you're voice is a wonder you are a wonder your skills are a wonder and i love everything about this and u
-@yourinstagram : 🥺 lily i love you. thank you for being such a wonderful friend. forever by your side.
kika.gomes : baby u are a wonder. your voice has me mesmerized. i love u so much. forever in awe of u and your wondrous talent 💗
-@yourinstagram : kika i love u so much 🥺💗 thank you for always supporting me. love u to the moon and back. please come and visit soon!!
-kika.gomes : on my way
-lilymunihe : wait me too omg lemme book a flight
-carmenmundt : alright me as well
-user40 : not all the wags being best friend with y/n 😭😭
carla.brocker : oh y/n this is so beautiful... i'm so proud to call you my friend 🥺 je t'aime 🫶🏼
-@yourinstagram : je t'aime carla 🩷
arthurleclerc - so proud of you, grande soeur, love the song 🩷
-@yourinstagram : love u thur.
charlesleclerc : magnifique, ma belle.
-@yourinstagram : merci charles 🥰
-user12 : usually she's.... much more enthusiastic about his comments
-user44 : babes if i wrote a song about my best friend and he was dense enough to not know and congratulate me id say merci too smh
-user30 : a charlesyn interaction after so long im so happy 😭
leclercpascale - tu es quelque chose de spécial, mon chéri. je t'aime toujours ❤️ you are something special my darling, love you always
-@yourinstagram - merci maman 🥺💗 tu es mon plus grand soutien, j'espère te voir bientôt you are my greatest supporter, i hope to see you soon
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
charles had been with joris and andrea when he had opened instagram to see your post.
"y/n's released a new song" he said, and joris quirked an eyebrow. "right now?" he asked, settling into charles' plush couch, flicking through to open apple music on the tv.
"yes, it's called someone like you. play it please" charles said, pulling a bowl of watermelon closer to the table.
the only sounds in the room were the munching of the watermelon and joris clicking the remote when charles picked up his phone, ready to send you a text after listening to your song.
the opening notes of the piano filled the room, bringing a soft smile to his face as a favourite memory creeped up into his thoughts.
you were sitting on the piano still, fingers playing random keys as you figured it out. at the age of 8, you had decided you wanted to be a singer and wanted to learn all the instruments you could. you were already playing guitar that you're dad was teaching you, but your fascination with the piano has always remained.
"charles i can't do this" you whined, throwing you head back, sighing at your best friend who was flipping through a safety guidebook for karting.
why not, you're smarter than i am" he said, earning a giggle from you. "you're smart too charlie" "alright alright, ive seen arthur play, let us try and figure it out"
hours later, herve and pascale returned home to find you and charles deeply engrossed in figuring out chords, trying to sing along to la vie on rose by edith piaf. the both of you had your tongues stuck out in concentration, working together to figure it out.
it brought a smile to their faces, knowing you'd always have each others support.
as charles registered the sound of your voice floating in, he closed his eyes, leaning back to enjoy the music, before he was whacked with a cushion.
"idiot, écoutes-tu correctement la chanson ?" idiot, are you listening to the song properly? joris asked, having caught on to the meaning before charles.
"yes, i am" charles said, rubbing his head in confusion.
"lei sta cantando di te." she's singing about you, andrea said, shaking his head at charles' slow reaction.
"qui?" charles asked, taken aback.
I heard that you're settled down
That you found a girl and you're married now
I heard that your dreams came true
Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you....
Never mind, I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you, too
"Don't forget me, " I beg
I remember you said
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"
"she's clearly talking about you! cmon charles, we all know you've both been head over heels for each other since we were kids. and look, it's all there, she even says old friend! how much more proof do you want" joris asked, exasperated.
"but-but- what does she mean by nevermind? i was going to tell her.." charles trailed off.
"then tell her soon, charlito, before she tries to move on. you deserve to tell her your feelings because she likes you too" andrea said, the usually quiet man genuinely cared about you as well, and knew of charles deep love for you.
"you're right. ill call her over tonight" charles said, nervous springing to life in every part of his body.
the anticipation grew as he realized that their connection could shift that very evening taking on a new dimension.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
charles rushed to send you a text, at the same time he set about setting the yacht up. he had decided to sail the both of you to the cove you discovered as children, to enjoy a dinner of carbonara and red wine, which had been a favourite for the two of you. he made sure the yacht was stocked with bottles of wine and champagne, and even got the ferrari team chef to cook for the both of you.
he set about setting the table just right, with candles and roses and his finest crockery and cutlery. he set the flowers on the table and glanced over at the bouquet he had for you, along with the present he intended to give you later.
he had also taken the time to curate a spotify playlist for the both of you, that was already playing softly in the background.
he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. in fact he hadn't felt this nervous since his first ever f1 race.
the nerves before telling someone you love them felt like a symphony of butterflies fluttering within his chest, a captivating mix of excitement and trepidation. his heart races, and every word he'd rehearsed a hundred times running laps in his mind.
he opened your chat to read the texts he had sent you, in an attempt to slow down his beating heart.
charlie ❤️ : cherie, je me demandais si tu voudrais me rejoindre ce soir sur le yacht pour dîner. j'avais envie de passer du temps avec toi. i was wondering if you'd join me on the yacht tonight for dinner? I've been wanting to spend time with you
you : tonight? id love to. is there anything happening?
charlie ❤️ : no, just wanted to spend some time with my dearest friend who i haven't seen in forever.
you : sorry, cherie, ive been busy :(
charlie ❤️ : thats alright amour, im just messing around. but is it okay if i ask, are you mad at me?
you : what, no?
charlie ❤️ : it's just...you've seemed a little distant and i can't point out why and i was just wondering if maybe i upset you?
you : oh not at all my sweet boy, ive just been preoccupied, thats all. we'll talk at dinner?
charlie ❤️ : of course cherie. see you then 🩷
you : see you 🩷
charles had blushed at the mention of "my sweet boy" and had also made up his mind to talk to you about whatever was bothering you. but he had a feeling he knew what it was about.
nevertheless, he paced back and forth as the sun began to set, casting the perfect golden hue on his boat. and just as the golden rays bathed monaco, you appeared like an angel, dress fluttering in the wind as you made your way to charles' yacht.
the sight of you took his breath away, hair billowing in the wind, your dress floating too, and the golden hues making you sparkle. you looked ethereal, like an angel descending from the heavens.
his angel.
as you reached closer to the yacht, charles walked up to you, offering you his hand to step in.
you took it with a smile trying not to blush at how handsome he looked. he was wearing a baby blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black pants. his hair looked tousled from the wind, and his eyes seemed to shimmer with happiness at seeing you. you found yourself unable to suppress your smile, cheeks hurting from the wide smile on your face.
you had to admit, although you were trying to stay away to protect your feelings, you were happiest when you were with him.
"hello cherie. ive missed you" charles was the first to speak, pulling you into a hug.
you lingered in the warmth of his embrace, relishing the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne. you hoped he wouldn't notice how you were so desperately trying to keep yourself together, to prevent yourself from melting into the man.
charles wasn't able to keep it together either. he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your perfume, which he recognised to be the ysl libre he had got you hooked into. he felt the most comforted and safe in your arms and your embrace, and so the both of you stayed like that for a moment longer, revelling the company of each other.
when you finally broke away, your heartbeats had increased and a giddy happiness has taken over the both of you, as charles led you to the table he had set for the two of you.
"oh wow... charles you didn't have to do all this! it isn't even my birthday" you laughed, taken aback at the sweet gesture.
"i just wanted to spoil my favourite girl a little" he said, throwing you a wink that had your cheeks heating up and your heart fluttering in your chest.
"well i won't say no to that" you giggled, and then laughed as he pulled your chairs for you.
"oh my what a gentleman. who would believe you once tipped me in class for trying to take your seat" you said, throwing him a smirk.
"hey i didn't trip you, your foot was just in the way" he chided, grinning at you.
"mmhm, for sure. what about the time you dumped red paint on my hair because you were upset i 'stole' thur from you? or the time you put gum in my hair? or the time you coloured over my poster of queen because you were tired of me singing bohemian rhapsody around the house?" you laughed back, watching him bury his face in his hands with a groan.
"cherie please don't remind me of what a terrible child i was" he whined pouring you a glass of wine.
"you were lovely. you just didn't use your brains at time" you smiled, and he rolled his eyes at you.
"you weren't an innocent angel either. what about the time you hid my remote control ferrari because I was giving it more attention than i was giving you?" he said and you squealed with laughter.
"i was a pretty needy friend, i admit" you giggled, and charles chuckled as well.
a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, broken only by charles serving you some carbonara.
the pair of you couldn't stop smiling at each other and you couldn't imagine how strange it would look to a stranger but you didn't care.
"ive missed you a lot" charles admitted after a beat of silence.
"ive missed you a lot as well" you sighed, twirling your pasta onto your fork.
"then why did you go radio silent for a while cherie?" he asked softly, and you noticed the flash of hurt in his eyes.
you sighed, looking beyond his green eyes to the sunset behind you. monaco always looked beautiful in the evening and at nightfall, and you took a moment's respite in the gorgeous colours, before turning back to face your best friend.
"i just needed to get away for a bit charles, focus on my music" you said, partially truthfully.
"but you focused on your music here too mom coeur" he said, unable to hide the sadness in his voice. "was it me? did I do something?" he whispered, not knowing how to tell you he realised what he had done.
"oh no, charles, no you didn't i- i just.. i needed some space and im sorry i didn't tell you I was going to LA" you said, heart breaking as you took his hands in your own.
"no i understand you needing space but I was just surprised you left in a rush, we haven't spoken in so long" charles said, running his thumb over your knuckles.
the anticipation grew, as the both of you looked deep into each other's eyes,silent apologies shared between the two of you.
it was a moment of vulnerability like no other, where the both of you prepared (unbeknownst to the other) to bare your deepest emotions, risking it all for the chance that the other might feel the same way. yet amidst the nervousness, there was a sense of hope, a glimmer of anticipation, because you both know that what you were about to say had the power to change your lives forever.
"i have to-"
"i need to-"
the both of you spoke at once, eliciting giggles from each other.
"you go first" you whispered, keeping your hands interlocked, not wanting to let go.
"okay" charles whispered back, before taking a deep breath.
"y/n, ma cherie, ive carried these feelings for you like a secret treasure, buried deep within the chambers of my heart. today, i have managed to find the courage to unearth them, to let them shine as brightly as the stars that have witnessed our shared moments. you've been the compass of my life, guiding me through storms and sunshine, and in the quiet spaces between our laughter and shared dreams, my affection for you has grown into something I can no longer contain.
it's not merely friendship that binds us, but a love that transcends boundaries. your smile brightens my darkest days, and your laughter is a melody that dances through my soul. your kindness and understanding have been the pillars of my strength, and your presence, a soothing balm to my every wound. with each passing day, my love for you has deepened, filling every corner of my being.
ive hesitated for so long, fearing that these words would jeopardize the beautiful connection we share. but, ma cherie, i cannot deny what my heart knows is true.
i love you.
not just as a friend, but with a love that defies definition, a love that cherishes your essence, your flaws, and your dreams. i want to be more than a friend. i want to be the one who holds your hand through life's journey, the one who shares your triumphs and cradles your sorrows.
i know this is a lot to take in, and i understand if it brings uncertainty or fear, because i have felt the weight of those emotions. but amour, i don't want keep this truth hidden. love is too precious to conceal. whether you choose to embrace it or not, know that my love for you is unwavering, and no matter what you feel, I'm telling you that ill always be there. I've known you since we were children, scraping our knees and colouring with each other, to teenagers with dreams we shared and hopes we talked about to adults who are still the best of friends.
it would be an honour if you reciprocated these feelings mon amour, and im sorry if this is too much. but i love you. and i had to let you know" charles concluded, drawing a deep breath at the end of his long confession.
you felt shock seeping through every bone in your body, but a warm shock that lit up your soul and made you feel like you were floating. tears rose to your eyes, glimmering and glistening, dripping softly down and charles moved to wipe them away softly.
"oh charles, you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words. ive loved you for as long as I can remember and I love you, i love you so much. ive always known that what I feel for you is more than just friendship.
the words you've spoken, the feelings you've unveiled, they've stirred the deepest corners of my soul. In the tapestry of our friendship, ive discovered a love that has blossomed silently, mirroring the beauty of the most delicate of flowers, unnoticed until it's in full bloom. it is not just my heart but my very essence that loves you and I'm so thrilled by your confession my love.
your smile, the warmth of your laughter, the strength of your kindness—these have been the foundation of my happiness for so long. and now, i can finally tell you that my heart has danced to the same tune all along. all those years of pining have finally come to fruition and im so glad you told me this. i had to go away because i couldn't bear to see you with someone else, and as selfish as it sounds, i needed an escape otherwise i would have gone raving mad.
i love you charles. id want nothing more than for us to have future together. i love you more than i can put into words" you confessed, tears streaming down your face as you regarded the man in front of you.
charles too, had tears in his eyes, and the utmost love and adoration in his eyes. never had he ever looked at you like that before, as if you were the sun moon and the stars.
"je t'aime cherie, je t'aime" he whispered, pulling your knuckles to his lips to press a kiss to them.
"je t'aime ma vie" you whispered back, basking in the warmth of the moment.
"papa would be so happy" charles admitted, pushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "you know, he once told me that he and uncle theo also wished for us to get together. finally their wish came true" he smiled and you felt a new stream of tears run down your cheeks.
"papa told me too, when he was ill, that you and i belong together. mama tells me even today" you said, sniffling softly.
charles moved so he could help you out of your chair, leading you out to the deck.
he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in close as you let your head drop onto his shoulder.
"can I kiss you?" he whispered, hand reaching up to caress your cheek.
"please" you managed to breathe out, before feeling his soft lips press against yours, just as they had when you shared the salty kiss under the playground slide, but this time it was deeper, more meaningful and full of love.
his hands slipped to your hips, one pulling you in so close you were almost moulded into him, while the other gently caressed your cheek. you let your hand rest on his waist, and the other on his neck, softly pulling him closer.
he deepened the kiss, gently sliding his tongue into your mouth, earning a soft gasp from you as he traced delicate patterns on your back.
the kiss only grew more urgent and charles let his hands wander, frantic to feel you, years of longing piling up and finally spilling out.
when the lack of oxygen made your lungs burn, you finally broke apart panting, still cocooned into each other, chests heaving together.
"ive been wanting to do that for ages" charles panted, pressing soft kisses to your face and forehead, making you giggle when he kissed your nose.
"I've been wanting you to do that for ages too" you said, earning a laugh from him. you settled back down against his shoulder, feeling full of love and ready to burst with how happy you were.
"i love you y/n" he said, sincerity clear in his tone. "i love you too, charles" you whispered, pulling him back down for another kiss.
against the skyline of monaco, you let your eyes close, comforted by the man whose arms you were in, relishing the feeling of being so deeply in love with someone who loved you back with so much passion.
in that moment, love felt like the gentle whisper of two hearts, sharing their secrets beneath the starry canvas of the monaco sky.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
back at pascale's apartment, arthur bounced his foot impatiently, looking out to the window at the sea.
"do you think he's told her yet?" he asked lorenzo, who was patiently reading a book on the couch.
"i don't know arthur i haven't heard anything" he replied, chuckling at his brother's impatience. "why is it taking so long' arthur whined, looking at the clock.
carla rolled her eyes at him, "thur, let them be, they're going to be all romantic and emotional and I'm sure they'll tell you soon" she said just as patiently, earning a smile from pascale.
"I'm sure charles will tell us soon cherie" she told her youngest soon, patting him on the head.
charlotte laughed from the corner, "i don't know whose more excited, charles or arthur" and the room burst into laughter.
"we have all been waiting for this day for ages" lorenzo said, smiling around at everyone.
"your papa and i always knew this day would come, and so did theo and laura. we had hoped they would get together" pascale said softly, a gentle smile on her face.
the group took a moment to reminisce on all the pining they'd had to endure.
the silence in the room was broken by the sound of lorenzo's phone ringing and he picked it up when he saw charles contact.
"salut frère, l'as-tu fait ? lui as-tu dit ?" hello brother, did you do it? did you tell her lorenzo asked and arthur leapt over the couch to hear what charles said next.
"oui" charles smiled, and chuckled when the room descended into chaos.
arthur was whooping, charlotte and carla were offering congratulations and pascale was smiling so brightly, telling her son her congratulations as well. lorenzo laughed and congratulated his brother as well, before telling him they'd give the new couple some time before the entire family descended upon them.
he knew charles would appreciate some time and that y/n would too.
"okay let's go see them and-" arthur began before carla laughed and tutted him.
"amour, laissons-leur de l'espace aujourd'hui, d'accord? nous pouvons aller les féliciter demain." love, let's give the two of them some space today okay? we can go and congratulate them tomorrow
grumbling a little bit still super excited arthur accepted defeat and started bidding goodbye to the family.
one by one they all left, leaving pascale with a bright smile on her face.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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liked by charlesleclerc, kika.gomes, gigihadid, taylorswift, lilymunihe, bellahadid, and 9,808,765 others
@yourinstgram - only about a decade and a half in the making but finally told the love of life that he's the love of my life. je t'aime ma vie ♥️
tagged - charlesleclerc
charlesleclerc - i love you, mon cherie, thank you for making me the happiest man alive.
-@yourinstagram - i love you too ma vie. forever yours ❤️
-charleslecerc - forever yours ❤️
user38 : HOLD THE FRONT DOOR WHAT THE FUCK
user87: THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL CHARLESY/N NATION RISE
user33 : oh my god oh my god they're finally together im crying MOMMY AND DADDY
-user13: the duality 😭
kika.gomes : so happy for you two!! finally no more pining 🙄 double date soon? ❤️ love u bbg
-@yourintagram - thank you kika, i love u too babes and OMG YES double date
lilymunihe : baby you deserve the whole world and im so happy for u both. love to you always but you're still mine 😘
-@yourinstagram : ofc honey
-charlesleclerc : hey
-alexalbon : hey
-lilymunihe : babe no look away
-pierregasly : alexalbon they always do this bro
pierregasly : congrats you two!! have to celebrate soon!
-@yourinstagram : thank you pierre! bring kika and come over anytime ❤️
sabrinacarpenter - omg babes congratulations! so happy for you two!! 🩷🫶🏼
bellahadid : congratulations beautiful! wishing you happiness always 💜
lewishamilton : congratulations 🩷 knew everything would work out!!
-@yourinstagram : thank you for everything lewis, come and hang out with us soon!! bring roscoe please i miss my little buddy
-lewishamilton : roscoe misses you too
-roscoelovescoco : me loves you y/ns!
-@yourinstagram : 😭❤️ i love you too roscoe
joris.trouche : congratulations mon ami, best to you two always
-@yourinstagram : thank you joris 🩷
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liked by leclercpascale, joris.trouche, pierregasly, arthurleclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 8,700,103 others
charlesleclerc : mon amour, i have loved you since i knew what the word meant. you are my everything. i love you.
yourinstagram : je t'aime ♥️ id spend all my lives with you ♥️
user444: the way he looks at her 🥹
user903: lord i see what you have done for others...
user676 : BI PANIC BI PANIC BI PANIC
user38: so glad they're finally together I've been rooting for ages
user45: mama y papa mama y papa
carlossainz : congratulations cabron, you deserve this happiness ❤️
arthurleclerc: so happy to finally have her officially in the family, took you long enough 🙄
-user339 : you tell him arthur
joris.trouche : allez! love to the both of you always ❤️
leclercpascale : felicitations, restez heureux et rendez-vous toujours heureux ♥️
-charlesleclerc : merci maman ♥️
-yourinstagram : merci maman 🥺❤️
scuderiaferrari: ❤️❤️❤️
landonorris : thank God you finally asked her out i was going to do it for you
danielricciardo : glad to see you finally asked her out!!
charlotte2304 : shes amazing, don't hurt her or carla and i will have words with you
-carlabrocker : 💪🏻 🔪
-yourinstagram : 😂😂
ricciardoberetta : martas asking when are we double dating 😂
user344 : new hottest couple in the paddock alert!!
user23 : idk if i wanna be her or him or sandwiched in between
user45 : they ARE the moment!!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n - there's going to be one more part but i hope you liked it!!! much love 😘
likes comments reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!
TAGS
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everything -@roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird
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