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#i might share the names we picked out later
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I always kinda laughed at the different types of lives our parents came from
Well educated social media analyst (once only *shrugs*)
Poor brilliant devil (if not crazy and wrapped up in hedonism....especially with sex)
A south and a north. The one in the north(fuck you north is still north even easterly which is west)
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I am Sage's mother, better known as Nana. I adopted Sage after my son died when she was still a baby. She's been through six foster homes by then, but we loved her and she blossomed into a joyful, lively girl who made music and art.
Puberty began and COVID hit, and she was treated for depression and anxiety, at times very severe. Her teachers shared any concerns with me so her treatment could be adapted.
The transparency ended in August of 2021 when Sage started high school. She started a public high school and she told me that all the girls there were bi, trans, lesbian, emo and she wanted to wear boy's clothes and be emo. Because I saw it as just a phase, it was fine with me.
But at school, she told them something different: she was now a boy named Draco with male pronouns. Sage asked the school not to tell me, and they did not tell me even though I informed them of her mental health history and medication. If I had known, this would be a much different story.
She was terribly bullied. No one told me. But boys followed her, touched her, threatened violence and rape. Something happened in the boy's bathroom but for two days, the school told me nothing. They kept meeting with Sage alone and she became so distraught they called me to pick her up.
That evening, I found a hallpass labeled 'Draco' and Sage told me she was identifying as a boy, and that her counselor said she could use the boy's bathroom. She'd been jacked up against the wall by a group of boys. She was crying, terrified. I said just stay home, we'll figure it out. That was my last conversation with Sage for five months.
The night she ran, she thought, to a young friend she'd met online, she left a note saying she was scared of what would happen if she stayed. The sheriff, FBI, search dogs were called in. I dropped to my knees in prayer. Nine days later the FBI found her in Baltimore. My baby had been lured online, sex trafficked by DC then Maryland. She was locked in a room, drugged, gang raped and brutalized by countless men. It was night. The FBI told us to pick her up in Maryland the next morning.
We packed our cars with blankets and stuffed animals and arrived by 8 am, but we were told we couldn't see her, and were summoned before Judge Robert Kershaw late that afternoon. They didn't even tell Sage that we came for her. We finally entered the courtroom and Sage appears on a huge Zoom screen from a prison cell. She looks tiny and broken, and I cry out 'I love you Sage.' Sage responds 'I love you too, Nana.' But attorney Anisa Khan rebukes us. She is a 'he' and his name is 'Draco' not Sage. We were floored.
Khan accuses us of emotional and physical abuse, that we are misgendering her, even though we just learned she claims to be trans and we're willing to use any name and pronouns to bring her home. My husband was so tearful he kept forgetting the new pronouns, so the judge had the bailiff remove him from the courtroom. I was pleading for my child to be returned and treated for her unspeakable trauma. Judge Kershaw told me, if I use the word 'trauma' again, he would throw me out too.
For over two months, he withheld custody. He housed Sage in the male quarters of a children's home. Sage told me she was the only girl and repeatedly assaulted. She was given street drugs by the other kids and Khan told her she didn't care. She just wanted to win the case and all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. Khan tried to prove abuse, but we were eventually cleared by both states of all charges.
Sage later told me Khan had told her to lie that we hit her. Khan even had Sage's school counselors testify against us, though they barely knew Sage and they didn't know us at all. Khan told my precious child I didn't want her anymore. I found out Sage never received any of the letters I sent her.
Sage ran from the Children's Home and disappeared for months. They told me she might already be gone forever, but I couldn't give up and I finally found a tip on her social media that led the marshals to her in Texas. She had been drugged, raped, beaten and exploited. This time I was able to be with her for the traumatic rape exam, and to bring her home.
Back in Virginia, she entered the mental health facility that Judge Kershaw had ordered, as it would affirm her as a male. The therapist began pressuring her to have her healthy breasts removed. Sage was too scared to protest, but she asked me to secretly buy her girl's clothes because she wanted to be a girl, but keep them in the car. It took a kind lawyer, Josh Hetzler to secure her discharge.
After almost a year. Sage was finally home. Safe. Alive. Sage is receiving professional trauma care. The first trafficker has already been convicted. Sage has nightmares, panic attacks, rape-related medical issues, but there's hope. I tell her she's not broken she's just scarred. And part of that hope is that in courageously sharing her story, others will be saved.
Sage said she doesn't know who she was back then. She wasn't a boy, she just wanted to have friends. But her school, the judge, the attorney and the doctor were all blinded by their ideology. The consequences for Sage were unspeakable.
Please don't let ideology harm another child. Let parents do our jobs. We know our children best and we love them a million times more.
Thank you.
==
Jesus Christ. This girl was exploited by everybody, except for her parents, who were villainized for literally nothing. It's opposite world.
And the fact that everybody with authority prioritized stupid shit like pronouns and trying to coax her further down into a fake identity, even against her will, and other ideological bullshit over her actual wellbeing is disgraceful.
The judge and attorney need to be disbarred, the therapist stripped of their license, and everyone who conspired to separate Sage from her parents fired.
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moineauz · 1 month
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જ⁀ 𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒 , various !
synopsis: when you bring your friend to ikea to help you pick furniture for your new apartment. Pinning ensues amongst other flustering events.
including: zhongli, childe, diluc, kaeya, thoma,
side comments: pure fluff! also, please buy your furniture second-hand and support small businesses! avoid fast furniture when you can (ikea) and make mindful purchases. let's briefly imagine a perfect world where ikea is ethical and sustainable.
extra: mentions and implications of marriage, gn reader, favourites: zhongli & kaeya word count: 1,784
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𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈
Being the friend he is, Zhongli would happily accompany you.
He is the type to have his hands behind his back as he follows you around. Lingering close yet respectfully enough.
If you ask him for consolation, he will be honest in the most tender way possible:
"Ah... perhaps this colour will be more suitable considering the lighting."
"You did need a new couch, right? I believe you will like this one."
You blink and then your cart is full.
Zhongli's advice is acutely precise, however, expect to exceed your original budget by another ghastly $500.
Not that he suggests buying unnecessary items, rather, he suggests quality, material and construction.
Begins speaking a tad excessively about colour coordination and lightning.
He will help you lift any furniture parts if need be!
Gradually, the trip would become a joint effort by the two of you. As if you've been shopping and living together for years.
"Look at the dining table ( Name )," Zhongli commented. The lighting of the room glittered above, illuminating your face slightly as your hands glide over the wood varnish. "It's wonderful, isn't it? You'd be able to hold all the dinner parties you wanted."
You smile gingerly, and soon you are standing next to him by the kitchen sink. "Definitely, Childe would no longer have to sit on the floor."
Zhongli chuckles and you share a teasing grin. "At least we picked out a table already- much cheaper."
Zhongli raises an eyebrow, "Oh? Perhaps we can consider this one instead?"
"Personally, I think you should agree with him," spoke an employee- a soft-spoken elderly woman- "I remember when I first bought my fiancee's dining table- fun times!"
"Oh ma'am we're not-"
"Yes, my fiancee and I do agree," Zhongli gazes towards you're slightly flushed figure and smiles gently, "Yes dear?"
You blink for a few moments; gaining your footing before replying smoothly, "Why of course, how could I not love?"
You don't notice it, however, Zhongli shares a faint blush as he later pretends to cough in his fist.
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𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄
Childe has zero taste in furniture.
His mom would choose the furniture while he used his card.
Browsing through the showrooms and picking furniture is not how he would choose to spend his afternoon, however, he'll try for you!
In this case- it's the thought that counts.
If you need help reaching or lifting anything he'll do it readily.
Don't have a cart or bag? (There were lots) Childe will hold it all for you!
It becomes an inner competition to some extent to cover up for his obvious lack of skill in furniture and home design in hopes of impressing you.
“Excuse me young man, can you please reach the duvet covers for me up top?” asks a elderly man, an embarrassed smile gently plastered on his lips.
Childe turns his head towards the man and flashes a hearty grin, “Of course.”
With ease, Childe grabs the duvet set and hands it to him, “Ah, thank you,” the man pauses before speaking, his eyes in thought, “might I ask something?”
Childe blinks and replies, subtle curiosity beneath his lighthearted tone, “Go on.”
“Have you asked your partner out yet?
Childe fumbles a bit and the elderly man heaves a near boisterous laugh. "I'm taking that as a no, ay? Ah, young couples! I might not have the sharpest eyes anymore, but you've been lookin' at them since the kitchen showroom!"
Before Childe could express a response, the man pats his back and smiles. "Best of luck! I'm sure they'll say yes."
The man then ambles away and from a distance, Childe can see his small figure fade into the throng.
"Hey Childe! Are you alright?"
"Oh... um yeah!" prompted Childe, "Is there anything else you need?"
You shake your head, your fingers scrolling through the list you made, "That should be it. Are you sure you're okay? If you'd like I could hold the vase?"
Childe smiles while his bright blue eyes pool into yours, "No I'm good, let's head to check out."
The two of you saunter to the check-out counter side by side; bantering with each other. Childe's gaze never leaving yours.
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𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐑
Diluc is not well-versed in design and colour. However, he has a keen eye for both style, price and functionality, unbeknownst to him.
You were hesitant to ask him if he could accompany you as it is without a doubt that Diluc Ragnvindr is a busy man.
Diluc himself shared hesitancy for opposing reasons.
Diluc has lived with himself and has found his dwelling to be dull in comparison to the liveliness and hospitality your former apartment held. Thus, Diluc wondered if he could be of any help.
Nevertheless, you reassured him that you wanted company regardless of his skills.
Contrary to his words, Diluc was quite valuable, especially when navigating the place.
"I found the blanket you were interested in earlier, do you still want it?"
"The colour is rather flattering... but it is your choice! Um... please don't mind me."
"Do you need help?"
Diluc doubted his opinion, however, you found yourself agreeing with him several times.
You and Diluc were currently sitting by the opposite edge of a bed, your hands inches apart.
"A comfortable bed isn't it?" you bounce on the bed a little, a smile reaching your lips, "And the mattress is only $200, a king too! I can't believe you found this deal-"
Diluc does not hear your voice, it faded just as the lights mellowed and the sensations of the blanket against his calloused hands grew fuzzy.
"... Hey Diluc?"
"Ah, yes," Diluc coughs before asking, "I'm sorry what were you saying?
You smile, "It's all good! I was just explaining how I wouldn't need such a large bed for myself."
Diluc conveys a slightly puzzled expression, "How so? If you're worried about how to carry it into the apartment then you do know that I'll assist you-"
You shake your head fervently before replying, "Well thank you Diluc! But really you don't have to-"
"Oh no, I insist."
You smile winsomely before carefully replying, "It's just... me in the apartment. I'd understand if I was living with someone- but it's not worth it in my opinion."
Diluc pauses, contemplating before replying steadily, "I believe you deserve the mattress..." There is a tentative gap between his words before he follows up, "Perhaps I... ah never mind, let's get going. You wanted to eat at Chef Xianling's restaurant for dinner right? My treat."
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𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇
So you invited Kaeya?
Expect relentless teasing and a carefree-complacent attitude.
However, as much as Kaeya is there for fun, he will readily assist you- not without a tease, however.
"Oh ho? Need my help?"
In regards to style and class... Kaeya can pull himself together.
However, similar to Diluc, there is a dullness to his home.
In fact, Kaeya rarely spends time in his own home: he bounces from place to place. Never lingering longer than is needed or comfortable. It is like an ever-present itch.
Yet, your home has become Kaeya's home too. Unbeknownst to you however.
It is natural for both of you.
Your home has become the longest place he has spent in. He has his space in your home, he even has a toothbrush holder and resident blanket; removing Kaeya from your home would cause an ineffable void.
Regardless of the previous facts, you genuinely invited Kaeya to come for help and company.
Kaeya makes the process entertaining! Instead of contemplating the price tags incessantly, Kaeya will smoothly subdue your worries by toying with the utensils and playing hide-and-seek in the mirror section all while slipping the item you wanted in the bag.
The two of you let loose; unwinding like children who innocently play in the kid's bedroom showhome despite being strangers to each other.
"Kaeya... do we really need this mirror?" you question dubiously.
Kaeya shares a winsome grin. "Why of course," he then gingerly places his hands on your shoulders and leans in slightly, "It holds a rather charming reflection, does it not?"
You gaze at him and sigh, "Charming? You always find ways to flatter yourself."
Kaeya merely smiles. The two of you peer into the mirror: the reflection of two souls gazing back all while Kaeya surmises.
It wasn't himself that he was referring to.
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𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀
You're in for a treat!
You will (quite literally) get ice cream afterwards.
Thoma possesses all the skills in the "art of making a home."
Need deals or a lower price? Thoma already has a list. What about colour and style? He has a magazine and Pinterest board ready. What about functionality and material? Don't fret! He knows all the washing labels and what goes best with your lifestyle.
Tell him the night before and he is packed and loaded.
Thoma is absolutely thrilled that you invited him.
Shopping for any household items is delightful for Thoma, even more so when the two of you are browsing through all the showrooms and inspecting each countertop.
His favourite section is the kitchen.
If you have a specific budget in mind, Thoma will ensure that not a dollar goes beyond it and he will keep you accountable as well!
However, staying within the budget while scouring the store takes a significant amount of time.
Hence, instead of another $100 added to the receipt, expect another three hours.
The two of you will heave a big sigh when you finally sit down in the car.
Nevertheless, it is all lighthearted and relaxing as the two of you reenacting imagining a space together.
"We'd set the tables over there-" remarked Thoma as he pointed his finger towards the dining table, "And we can house our pans here- it would be so since to have them hanging instead of in the cabinet."
"Browsing through the kitchens is always fun," added a mother, her arms cradling her baby, "Are the two of you living together?"
You chuckle and Thoma's cheeks grow rosy. You then reply amused, "Oh no, he's a friend of mine who I asked to come along."
The mother then shares an embarrassed smile, "Oh I'm so sorry! That was so wrong of me... if the two of you are looking for a hanging pan rack then I remember seeing an installation piece down in the marketplace."
"Thank you," replied Thoma, a smile pressed on his lips, "We'll be sure to check it out!"
As the mother saunters ambles away, Thoma mutters under his breath, "Maybe we should live together..."
"What was that?"
"Oh ah! Nothing," Thoma scratches the back of his neck before responding brightly, "Do you want me to write the rack on the list now?"
masterlist
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padfootagain · 4 months
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The Car Trap
Hi!!!!! Here I am again, back to my old antics! Yes, I’m adding one more person to my masterlist. Yes, I am going to hell for this, and you know what? I’ll have such a great time!
Anyway, no one asked for this, except for me, as I was desperate for some Hozier fics, and couldn’t find any new ones anymore! So, here we go! Hope you like this, let me know what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, angst to fluff! Friends to lovers, snowed-in… in a car… *hihihihihihhi!!!*
Summary: You're offered a job in Switzerland, and you're ready to accept it. It would offer you a new beginning, a way to forget about the love you have for your best friend. But a trip through a snowstorm with Andrew might change everything...
Word Count: 7282
Hozier’s Masterlist - Main Masterlist
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This trip was a disaster.
A fucking, outrageously terrible disaster…
The weather was terrible, for a start. And that was a statement made with an Irish reference, which was saying a lot. It had been raining so hard you had to stop the car for a while as you could not see the road ahead at all. Then it was time for so much wind that your fingers were cramping over the strength used to hold the wheel. Four hours later, it was getting dark, the sun already setting and the sky heavy with clouds that blocked all sunlight. And it was snowing.
Fucking snowing.
Great. Wonderful. Lovely.
Oh, but if only the problem was held by the capricious weather… no… no, this was but a part of the issue. You could even say that this was the top of the iceberg, just a tiny fraction of the shit you were buried under.
Because your phone had died. But then again, you had no signal anyway to get the help of a friendly and absolutely annoying GPS; and in the passenger seat by your side, your best friend was struggling with a fifteen-year old map that was so out-of-date that it might as well have not existed for the help it got you…
You were lost. You were fucking lost, in the middle of nowhere, while it was getting dark and snowing and there was nothing manmade in sight to ask for help.
Wonderful. Truly, wonderful.
Oh, and that was without mentioning that the best friend in question was also the man you had been in love with for years but had never dared confess your feelings to.
Outrageously bad, that road trip, really…
Andrew picked up his phone to get some more light, his glasses perched haphazardly on his nose as he tried to decipher names printed on the large map splayed across his laps; hair held back in a low bun, allowing you to see his focused features.
“So?”
He merely hummed in response, a long finger following a dark line.
“Do you have any idea where we are?” you insisted.
“None whatsoever,” he shook his head.
He sat back in his seat, before rubbing his eyes.
“I mean… we’ll end up crossing a village at one point if we keep going along this road,” he sighed. “I don’t have a better plan for now.”
“We might have to stop at one point, though. The snow is getting heavy.”
“I had never envisioned dying from the cold in the middle of nowhere on some random Irish road…” Andrew joked, his tone almost contemplative, and you couldn’t refrain a chuckle.
“And with you! Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m dying with you, of all people.”
“Why not? You don’t want to see me dying?”
“I don’t want my last moments to be shared with someone as annoying as you.”
He tried to throw back some witty remark, but his laughter was too much to handle.
He had pushed back the seat as far as possible, of course, in an attempt to accommodate his long limbs, but even in this position, his legs were not fully extended before him, his knees hitting the dashboard at every bump of the road.
You forced your gaze to go back to the road again, squinting your eyes to see through the heavy snow that fell now, instead of lingering on his legs.
God… you were so damn ridiculous…
His quiet rumble of a laugh finally died out, but a smile remained set on his features, even though his tone was serious as he spoke again.
“We can still turn the engines on every once in a while to get some heat.”
“Won’t that drain the battery or something?”
“If we don’t do it too much, it should be fine. Besides, it’s not minus twenty outside, relax. We’ll be fine.”
You merely nodded, falling, as always, for the safety in his quiet voice and the warmth of his tone.
Besides, it was easier to believe in the certainty of his voice, in its soothing sound, than to face the snow falling more and more heavily outside, the night creeping over the distant mountains, right beyond the green fields. Their silhouettes were almost made invisible now by the low light, you could only guess their shadows. Despite the headlights, you could barely make out the stony walls on each side of the road, mostly devoured by ivy and thickets. You had slowed down your pace, driving slowly in fear that a wild animal would suddenly jump in front the car, or that you would miss a random house set by the road.
It was also easier to focus on the silly story he was using to quieten your mind rather than to mention the reason behind this trip across the countryside.
You were leaving.
You were leaving Ireland to settle in Switzerland for a job. Or well, nothing was fixed for now, but you had an amazing opportunity. A first trip to the country to meet your future boss in person was planned for the following week, and at the end of these three days spent in Geneva, you had to sign your contract. You would then have about a month to find a place and move there.
So, you and your best friend had decided to enjoy a little road trip together. Driving all the way to the other side of the country. Staying at an Airbnb near the western coast. Enjoying four days together spent by the sea, the cliffs, and an awful lot of chips and beer.
You had been puzzled by Andrew’s reaction when you told him about your new job. He had seemed… unphased by it.
Of course, with his career, he was often away, and you were used not to live close to each other for long periods of time. Still, you were always one of the first people he visited whenever he was home. And while he stayed in Ireland, you spent most of your time together. As if he wanted to soak in as many moments as he could before he would leave again. And yet, when you told him that you would move to another country, he didn’t even blink. He gave you a smile, congratulated you, offered you a warm hug, and that was it. He asked about the job, about the place where you would live… and that was it. No disappointment in the thought of you leaving. No sadness at the thought of not having you around. No heartbreak whatsoever…
But then again, you were a fool for hoping that he would feel this way. Because he was… Andrew. Absolutely-lovely, amazing-hair, siren-voiced, hilariously-witty, unbearably-gentle Andrew. You had been friendzoned a few weeks after your first encounter, and you had no reason to believe that his feelings had changed. Actually, this new job, you took it as an opportunity to forget him. Move on. And not only because many miles would separate your homes, but because you weren’t leaving on your own.
Another one of your colleagues, Tom, had been approached by the same company as you had. He had already accepted the offer, and he was thrilled when he learned that you were leaving for Geneva as well. You knew he had a crush on you. He was pretty obvious about it. If he had never crossed a line, it was clear that he wanted you to give him a chance. And who knew? Perhaps this new beginning, with another man that you quite frankly found great, could mean you finally moving on from your stupid crush on your best friend. A new start, in another country. After spending a few weeks getting used to this new place, this new corporation, this new workplace… perhaps you would give Tom a chance. You desperately needed to forget Andrew, after all…
Of course, you didn’t know that you were completely, utterly wrong… about everything. That Andrew wanted to cry at the mere thought of you leaving. That he held you too tight and for too long that afternoon when, bathed in the neon light of your kitchen, you told him you were moving so far away from him, because he didn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes. He didn’t have the right to hold you back. He was but a friend to you, and friends needed to be supportive, and this was such a great opportunity for you, and… and he was only your friend.
Only your goddamn friend. As if Andrew hadn’t longed to be much more than that after a mere week spent in your company. But you had met before he would leave, touring for his second album, the timing was all wrong. He couldn’t ask you out for a couple of dates just to get you attached to him, before he would disappear for months on the other side of the planet. That wasn’t fair. He wanted to do things the right way. So, he kept his distance at first, unwilling to get too attached himself. But then, when he came home months later… you weren’t single anymore.
The fool… he had lost his chance. And over the years, the two of you had built such a great friendship that he didn’t want to take the risk anymore. Besides, he was certain that you didn’t see him this way. You had been in relationships, he had been in relationships… you had never showed any sign that would make him feel that he was more than a friend to you. Even when he tried to get you jealous, at the beginning, right after your break-up… but it didn’t work. The lure fell into the water in a deafening defeat, and he had made up both his mind and heart. You weren’t interested. He didn’t blame you. With his chaotic lifestyle.. who in their mind would settle for that?
Did it stop Andrew from still being in love with you, even after all this time? No, of course it did not. And the thought that you wouldn’t be home with him anymore…
He looked away, through the window, just to hide the tears that rose to his eyes all over again. He rested his elbow against the cold window, his lips to the back of his hand, biting lightly in the skin to calm down. He had no right to try to hold you back… no right at all… Was it your fault if he was enough of a fool to fall for his best friend? The cliché was almost too much to bear…
When he turned to you again, though, he couldn’t help the warm, fond feeling that invaded his chest at the sight of you. During the moment of silence you were both bathing into, disturbed solely by the wind and the tires over the frozen road, the night had almost conquered the last remnants of sunlight that lingered there, held against the eastern riff of the mountains. The headlights and the dim lights coming from the headboard were enough for him to see your features, though. They were enough for him to long to brush that strand of hair behind your ear, to lean across the car to kiss your cheek, to feel the warmth of your skin, even if for just a second, against his lips…
God, he didn’t want you to leave. What would he do if you left? When would you see each other? Never… If he spent so much time touring and you weren’t home…
God, he would move to Geneva with you if you asked. Even if it were to keep him as a mere friend, that was how badly he needed you in his life…
“Andy… I’m not sure I should keep driving…”
Andrew shook himself out of his thoughts, forced his attention back to the road ahead. You could barely see the road at all, as it was slowly turning white, just like the patches of grass between the road and the low walls…
Andrew shook his head.
“We can’t just stop in the middle of the road either. Just… drive slowly. Let’s try to find somewhere to park.”
You nodded, frowning in your focus.
You kept on driving for a while longer. The night was stark black when you finally found a small space by the road where you could safely park. There was still no house in sight, though… not that you could have seen anything beyond a five meters radius anyway…
You turned off the engine, let the lights go dark. Andrew turned on the light of his phone again.
“You should save some battery,” you argued.
“Got plenty, don’t worry.”
“So… now, what?”
“Now, we wait.”
“And if it keeps on snowing all night? Should we try to get some sleep?”
He merely nodded, setting his phone between the two of you to shed some light all over the tiny space of your car. Andrew reached behind him to get your coats from the backseat.
“We should put these on while they’re still warm.”
You didn’t complain when Andrew unfolded your warm coat, holding it up so you could easily slip your arms inside; nor did you stop him when he straightened it around your frame, reached for the zipper, and closed it for you.
And perhaps it would have been wiser for you to do so… but then again, you were human.
You were still trying to regulate your heartbeat while Andrew was putting on his own coat.
And for the first half-hour, everything was easy. You turned the engines back on for a few minutes when it got too cold, but in such a weather, you were worried your car wouldn’t start with a low battery. After all, it wasn’t exactly brand new.
“What if we get stuck in here?” you asked, worrying about the snow that didn’t give any sign of stopping.
“We’ll freeze to death, probably. At least the cold will preserve our bodies.”
“Good news for the police officer who’s gonna open the door. The smell won’t be too bad.”
“Exactly.”
“How long do you think before they find us?”
“Oh… at least a few weeks, if it snows enough.”
“Don’t you think anyone would notice a car covered in snow by the side of the road?”
“Not if there’s enough snow on it.”
You were the first to break, unable to be serious any longer. And Andrew’s laugh soon found yours, a deep rumble shaking the air around you.
“We won’t get fully snowed in,” Andrew reassured you as your laughter receded, in favour of the hushed quiet of winter. “Don’t worry. Besides, we’re not going to stay here all night. We’ll just wait until the worst of the storm passes. I can drive the rest of the way, if you want.”
“I can keep driving. I think I’ll try to take a nap while we wait though. I need to focus.”
Andrew merely nodded as an answer, adding a soft humming for good measure, before he would offer you a warm smile. He reached for something in his pocket, and put on a beanie and some gloves.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” he added, shifting to get more comfortable, the seatbelt since long discarded.
You tried to do the same, sliding the seat back to get more room to move around. Your eyes settled on Andrew’s features one more time before they closed.
But there was no way you could fall asleep. Beside your troubled mind, you were getting uncomfortably cold again. Enough for your teeth to chatter for a moment, until you tightly set your jaw.
You felt warm skin brush the back of your freezing fingers, heard the low, unapproving humming that Andrew let out at the touch.
“Take these, Y/N.”
You blinked your eyes open, while Andrew was already pushing a glove into your palm.
“You’ll be cold,” you argued, but you were met with a fond glare.
“You are cold.”
You gave up, took the gloves he offered. So large around your hands, the wool soft and still holding the warmth born from his own skin. You tried to stop him from planting his beanie on your head too, but failed.
“You need to stay warm! You’re a singer! You can’t catch a cold!” you tried to argue, but Andrew was already pulling the wool down to cover your ears.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine. Besides, you’re the one who’s always cold.”
“Am not!”
“Are too! Who wears a woollen scarf in June?”
“It was cold!”
“You could turn into an ice cube if left unattended.”
With a great sense of maturity, you stuck out the tip of your tongue, making him chuckle.
It was better, but you were still cold, and so was Andrew now. He was shaking slightly, rubbing his hands together, burying his mouth and nose in his woollen grey scarf to warm it with his breath. But when he tried to shed some light outside again, the snow was still too heavy to drive safely.
“I can’t feel my fucking toes,” he complained, but there wasn’t much that you could do.
Except that you could. It was stupid, probably ineffective, but you were too cold to think straight.
“What if we hugged?”
Andrew let out a laugh.
“I like the sentiment, but that would hardly warm my toes.”
“Isn’t sharing body warmth a surviving technique?”
“Do I look like I would survive in the wild?”
“No, you would either bump your head in a branch so hard you’d knock yourself out to fall right into an endless pit… or you would be spotted by lions from miles away, you and your long limbs…”
“Exactly.”
There was silence again, for a couple of minutes, and you didn’t dare to break it. Instead, you let your eyelids fall again. He had refused to hold you, it was speaking volumes. What if you had made him uncomfortable? What were you expecting anyway? You were just a friend…
A gentle tug on your sleeve made you look up at him.
“Come here.”
“What?”
“We’re both cold, come here. You’re right, body heat sounds like a good idea.”
You joked in an attempt to hide the way your heart jumped in your chest.
“We both know you simply like to be held. Even by me.”
“Anything if I can avoid losing my toes.”
You wished you could claim that the manoeuvre that led you to lie with Andrew was a graceful one, but it truly wasn’t. After bumping into every surface possible and hitting your head against the ceiling twice, you were, however, finally secured in Andrew’s arms.
You moved around a little, trying to get comfortable, but in the tiny space of the passenger seat, there was nowhere for you to lay but on top of him.
If your nerves were getting the better of you at first, you couldn’t help but unwind as Andrew wrapped his arms around your frame, engulfing you within his embrace, pressing you closer to him, even though it didn’t seem possible.
He closed his eyes as he breathed in the sweet scent of your shampoo, but you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice either the way his heart sped up under his ribs, the way his breath caught in his throat. You never seemed to notice. Andrew reckoned that he was pretty obvious, although he did try to hide it all, but you never noticed anything. He couldn’t hide it, though. Even if this would lead nowhere, even if he didn’t stand a chance, he couldn’t help it. Loving you. In all the years he had known you, he had never been able to help it. Perhaps that was what love was all about. Loving beyond reason. Loving even when he wished he didn’t. Loving, and hurting, and having no regrets about it. Hurting, and being willing to go through all this pain all over again, for just a moment more…
He heaved a sigh without noticing, his eyelids lifting to be faced by a wall of darkness spotted with white snowflakes. He was ridiculous. You were leaving, that was the final proof he needed to be certain that he was nothing but a friend to you. If you felt anything for him, you wouldn’t be leaving… right? He had not left. He could have moved to the US a thousand times over, but you were in Ireland. Of course, you weren’t the only reason for him to stay, but you were easily the most important one, the one that carried the most weight.
What was the point of going home after a tour or a long recording session, if home wasn’t where you were?
Pathetic. That was what he was, pathetic…
Besides, you deserved better than what he could offer. Waiting for him for months on end? A constant back-and-forth between nations, a life stuck in a suitcase? No… no, you deserved better than that. Better than what he could offer you. Better than him…
And you were leaving. Final proof…
He held you tighter, and almost released it all in a breath.
Don’t go. Please, don’t go…
“Andy?”
He merely hummed in response.
“I’m pretty sure this is doing nothing to keep us warm.”
“I think it helps.”
“We’re wearing too many clothes.”
“Are you offering a game of strip-poker or something?”
You didn’t look up at him, face still buried in his shoulder, and yet he knew you were rolling your eyes.
“I must be crushing you.”
“You’re breaking all my bones, indeed.”
You tried to move away, but his hold tightened, and he looked down at you with confusion.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving your life? Avoiding you to be crushed to death?”
“I was joking. I’m alright.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… yeah, that’s… nice.”
You weren’t sure what to make of such comment, so you remained quiet instead, breathing deeply his scent, feeling it numb your senses.
“I’ve never seen such a snowstorm,” he pointed out, gaze lost into the darkness ahead.
“Me neither.”
“Not in this part of the world, at least.”
“Typical of Ireland to send me the storm of the century as a farewell gift.”
You felt Andrew tensing under you, his voice was colder than usual as he spoke, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.
“When will you leave? For good, I mean.”
“I have a month after this short stay to find myself a place to rent and get to work.”
“But you’ll come back to visit, right?”
“Yeah, of course! I mean… when I’m on vacation. To see my family.”
“Will I get some free housing in Geneva, then?”
“You thief, as usual.”
“You know me. Always the rascal.”
You closed your eyes as he started to rub your back, the gesture gentle and amazingly soothing.
“Aren’t you afraid to go there on your own?”
“Yeah… yeah, a little bit,” you admitted in a breath. “But… at least Tom will be there.”
“Tom?”
“Yeah, you know? My colleague? He’s very nice, I like him a lot. We’re leaving together.”
His tall frame tensed again, you caught the way his breath staggered.
“What do you mean Tom is leaving too?”
You stared into his hazel eyes; these eyes you dreamt of at night, the ones you adored. They had taken the hue of leaves before Autumn, deep green in a ray of sunshine. They always did when tears came to his eyes. And indeed, you were surprised as you fell into his gaze to find it blurred with tears.
“You… you’re leaving with him?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, shaky, vulnerable.
You were aware, now more than ever, of how close you were. You stared up at him, lost in his eyes, and you thought of how it would be so easy to lean up and kiss him, make his frown melt away, shush his worry with your lips…
“I thought… why…?”
You shrugged, unsure of what he meant to say.
“We’ve been approached by the same company. We’ll both move to Geneva.”
“Together?!”
“I mean… at the same time, yes.”
“But you’re…”
So that was it then… you had found someone else again. And this time you were leaving in another country with this man and…
And Andrew had lost you for good.
He was only too aware of how close the two of you were, of how easy it would have been to simply lean down to kiss you. Press his lips to yours, forget you were choosing someone else…
But he couldn’t forget. He couldn’t take it.
Instead of leaning closer, he pushed you away.
“Get off.”
You frowned at the roughness in his voice, the coldness in his tone, and Andrew wished he could control himself, be gentle, the way you deserved, but he needed to get away if he wanted to keep breathing…
“Please, get off me.”
You blinked tears away, and he hated himself for being the cause of such a sight, but he didn’t stop you when you ungracefully pushed yourself back into the driver’s seat. And Andrew watched as you stared at him, expectant, like you didn’t understand that you were breaking his heart in a million pieces…
And he couldn’t take it.
You were so surprised when Andrew opened the door and climbed out of the car that you didn’t stop him. He was already out of sight when you shook yourself enough to grab his phone, the only source of light available, and jumped out of the car as well.
The wind was bitterly cold as it assailed your cheeks, the snow rough and sharp digging into your skin.
“ANDREW!”
You hurried around the car, struggling with the slippery ground.
Above the wind, there was nothing to be heard but your own voice. Betrayed by the night, even this sound seemed to fade too fast to reach anything out of your sight. And Andrew was nowhere to be seen, the darkness too thick for that, the elements howling too loudly.
“ANDREW!”
A thud. A groan. A hiss. You followed the sounds in a hurry, and sure enough, mere seconds were needed to find your friend half-lying in the snow, a hand gripping at the low stone wall.
“ANDY!”
You kneeled by his side, uncaring of the sharp sting of the frozen ground under your knees.
“Are you alright?”
But he nodded, without a word. He seemed in pain, you brushed a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, and he leaned into your touch without noticing.
“You’re okay? What the fuck are you doing?!”
“You’re leaving for him, right?”
“What on earth are you talking about?!”
“TOM! FUCKING TOM!”
He moved away from your touch, but winced as he leaned against the wall. Your eyes grew round in worry, and when you turned the light towards the stones, there were traces of blood there.
“Oh God… Andy, you’re hurt!”
“It’s nothing,” he shook his head.
“Let me see…”
But he stood up instead, and you followed close. He was towering you, the way he always did. The difference in height had not been so obvious in the car, but now, he was standing before you in his full, impressive height, and the way he glared made it more intimidating than usual.
“You’re really leaving for a fucking guy you met at work?!”
You frowned, shaking your head.
“Andy, I’m not…”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
“Andy…”
“For how long have you two even been together?”
“We’re not! We’re not together.”
It was his time to frown in confusion.
“What?”
“Tom and I, we’re not together. We’ve been approached by the same company, that’s all. Although, if I’m being honest… I might give him a chance.”
“What?”
You noticed how he was out of breath, of course you did. He didn’t seem angry anymore, just…sad. Unbearably sad…
“Well, he’s nice… and… I know he likes me. But… can we go back to the car now?”
“Don’t go with him.”
You stared up at him, his hair messed by the wind as more strands were breaking free from his bun. Snowflakes stained the dark locks with white. Some got caught in his long eyelashes. The biting cold was turning his sharp cheekbones red. In the dim light, you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, even though you could see the lips moving with the vowels, closing with consonants…
“Don’t go. Y/N… don’t go.”
These were words you were longing to hear, and yet, now that he was finally speaking them out loud, you couldn’t take them in.
He had acted like he didn’t care for weeks, and now, all of a sudden, he claimed that he was hurting?
“That’s rich coming from someone who spends barely any time home.”
You knew you were being mean, and you felt guilty as a shock of pain ran through Andrew’s features, enough so to bring tears back in his eyes. Still, you didn’t take your words back.
“That’s not the same. This… this is still my home.”
“This is a great opportunity for my career. This would be a new start. I’m excited about it. And Tom is nice. He likes me. He wants me…”
“You’re saying that like you don’t have a family and friends and people who love you already.”
“You know what I mean. This is a great opportunity, Andy. I want to take it.”
You noticed the way he clenched his jaw, the way the muscle jumped there as he lowered his gaze to the ground, nodding slowly.
“You’re right… that’s a great opportunity. You should take it…”
But instead of you agreeing, he was surprised as you huffed in annoyance, and turned your back to him.
“Get your arse back in the car, come on.”
“Y/N…”
“I don’t understand what you want, Andy!” you hissed as you turned back to him, and he hated the sharpness in your voice, it felt like a knife. “You act like you don’t give two fucks about me leaving for weeks! And now… now you’re acting like you want me to stay…!”
“Of course, I want you to stay! But I’m your friend, I’m supposed to be here for you, and to support you and encourage you…”
“So you’re glad that I’m leaving?” your voice rising into a shout, and his tone matched yours when he answered, making you tremble under his deep, powerful voice.
“Of course not! Are you listening to yourself?! Why would I want you to move to fucking Geneva!”
“Because you didn’t say a thing about it!” you were crying, but you didn’t even notice, too busy letting your feelings out, at long last. “Because everyone else tried to convince me to stay, and you didn’t!”
“I tried to be supportive!”
“Well, I didn’t want you to supportive!”
“What did you want then?!”
“The truth!”
“Well, I don’t want you to leave! Here’s your fucking truth! And I don’t want you to leave with fucking Tom! I want you to choose me!”
He was out of breath now, and as he moved closer to you and the light you still held tightly in your hand, you finally noticed that he was crying as well.
“Choose you?” you asked, confused and slightly calmer, even if your voice kept on shaking. “Why would you want me to choose you…?”
“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”
The words were out before he could hold them in; failing this time at this game he had played a thousand times before, every time the words almost slipped out, when he bit his tongue until it hurt so you wouldn’t hear his heart. Your eyes grew round like you were surprised, shocked even, like this was not the most obvious truth in the world, like he had not spent years loving you in secret, leaving traces of his bleeding heart all over the place…
He almost wanted to laugh at you, at your round eyes and parted lips and all that snow caught in your hair and the way he longed to kiss that shock off your face. He didn’t though. Because you took a step back, and he read fear in your eyes, and he realised then that you were slipping away, sand between his fingers although he tried to hold tight.
“Y/N…” he breathed, voice taken away by the wind before it could reach you.
You hurried to the car instead of answering, and he followed you this time, shivering in the cold. And once you were back in the safety of your vehicle, the seats had lost their warmth, and the tiny space between the two of you seemed unbearably vast, a chasm you would never be able to close or cross.
You were both staring out by the windshield, while the snow finally receded. You could start driving again…
“Can you say something?”
“We should try to drive again.”
“Y/N… please…”
But as you turned to him, it was to stare at his palm, not his gaze.
“You’re bleeding.”
Andrew followed your gaze, looked down at his own hand. There was a long cut across the palm, red with blood, darkened with dirt on some spots. In the dim light, it was hard to tell how deep the cut was. It hurt, that was for sure. And yet, he didn’t care. You were more painful than an open wound.
“It’s nothing…”
“Let me see.”
You took off the gloves he had lent you, and Andrew didn’t have the strength to stop you as you gently reached for his hand, cradled it in yours, held it to the light to get a better view. Your skin was warm and soft against his cold one, and the thought that you could hate him, that you could resent him for sharing feelings he knew as unrequited made the tenderness of your hold almost unbearable.
“How did you hurt yourself?”
“I slipped in the snow. Caught myself to the wall. Sharp stone.”
You heaved a sigh, the sound was almost annoyed, but not quite. More like… worried.
“Hold the light, would you?”
He didn’t think as he obeyed, yielding to your will, the way he always did. You grabbed a bottle of water and some tissues from the glove box, and started to slowly clean up his cut. You were leaning closer to do so, and Andrew couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward as well, longing for your nearness, basking in the touch of your hand as it came back to cradle his, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.
The breath he let out before speaking again was shaking.
“Do you hate me?”
You looked up, seemed to realize how close the two of you were. You could easily lean up and kiss him, and he could easily lean down and press his lips to yours. Instead, you both remained motionless, perfectly still, merely staring while he waited for an answer you thought was too obvious to be spoken.
“Why would I?” you asked back.
“Because… because we’re friends. And I caught feelings. And… maybe you hate me now that you know that I don’t… I don’t see a friend in you at all. Now that you know that I lied.”
But you didn’t answer, instead, you lowered your gaze again, and Andrew jumped and let out a hiss as you pressed the wet tissues against his broken skin.
“I’m not angry,” you finally reassured him. “I’m just… I don’t really believe you, I think.”
“What? Why wouldn’t you?”
You shrugged, and despite your claim of being calm, the smile that formed on your lips was bitter when you spoke.
“For how long have we been friends? And you’ve never said anything? Never felt anything, until I decided to go away? And now, all of sudden, you’re catching feelings?”
“I’ve never said these feelings were new.”
“You friendzoned me, back in the days. Do you remember that?”
Andrew winced, but nodded anyway.
“This… this was different.”
“Because I was just a friend?”
“Because I was the one leaving. Because it wasn’t fair to ask you out just to disappear for months while I was touring.”
Finally, you looked up again, trying to read something in his eyes, and whatever it was, Andrew hoped that you would find it there. He hoped you could see that he was being earnest, that he meant it, that there was no doubt to have. He had never doubted his love for you, even if he had refrained it. It had been a truth he had relied on for years. With a bit of luck, you might want to rely on it too…
“But then you came back… why didn’t you say anything then?”
“You weren’t single anymore. It was my turn to get friendzoned.”
The ghost of a smile formed on his lips, a soothing offering. But it was sad all the same.
“And after that?”
“After that… you were already my best friend. You… I didn’t want to lose you. And you… you deserved better than that. You deserve better than what I can give you. Waiting around while I disappear for months, what kind of life is that?”
You stopped breathing as he lifted his unharmed hand up to your face, brushing his fingertips across your cheek, the way he had longed to for years.
If his heart was staggering behind his ribs, if his breath was caught in his throat because of this gentle touch of your skin, when he closed his eyes to gather his strength, there was a tear breaking free.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you don’t feel the same,” he shook his head as he opened his eyes again, falling into your gaze, and he saw there the same tears he tried to withhold in his own eyes. “I know it’s a one-sided thing. I didn’t… I didn’t want to break everything. I’m sorry.”
He was surprised when you shook your head and leaned into his touch, forcing his hand to open so he could cradle your face in his palm, long fingers disappearing into your hair and tenderly brushing your skin.
“God, you’re such an idiot.”
He raised a surprised eyebrow, not daring to move or reply. You started laughing, and he was at a loss.
“We’re both so damn stupid!”
He had to blink to make sure that he wasn’t imagining your movement as you slowly closed the gap between the two of you, as you leaned up to meet him. He was too surprised by it to meet you halfway; he was too taken aback by the feeling of your lips against his to kiss you back. It took him a couple of seconds to process that this was truly happening, that he was not, in fact, lost in one of the many dreams he’d had of this moment. But then your hand was in the mess of his curls, and you were pressing your lips more firmly against his, and he allowed himself to believe that you wanted this as well, that perhaps he had been, indeed, such an idiot for failing to see what was right in front of him, the same way you had missed all of his gestures along the years.
And you wished you could admit to yourself that you were keeping control over the situation, having instigated the kiss, but you melted into his touch the second Andrew responded and kissed you back. His hold on your face tightened slightly, a tinge of desperation held in the gesture. You tightened your hold on his wounded hand, and he responded by twisting his wrist until he could hold onto your hand too. You chased after him as he pulled away, but he left only for a second, just long enough to tilt his head slightly to the side, bettering the angle of his next kiss so he could deepen it. And the second you could properly taste him on your tongue, you lost track of everything but him: the warmth of his scent, the softness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, his curls running through your fingers, the gentle scratching of his beard, and the overwhelming feeling of being kissed by him. The feelings he poured into the intimate gesture… no one had ever kissed you like that before…
When you broke apart, at long last, both of you breathless, blinking the dizziness of the kiss away in an attempt to find back an earthly footing, Andrew pressed his forehead to yours, afraid, perhaps, that if he got too far, he would wake.
“I don’t see you as a mere friend either, in case that was still unclear,” you clarified, tone half-joking, making him smile.
“Right…”
“You’re okay?”
“Just… trying to assess whether I’m awake or dreaming right now.”
Playfully, you pinched his shoulder, making both of you laugh.
“Awake,” you confirmed. “Even your wild imagination could not have pictured the storm of the century as a background for our first kiss.”
“First? Can I have another, then?”
You couldn’t refrain a giggle, gently shaking your head at him, brushing your nose against his in the process.
“A true thief, as always.”
“Of the worst kind only.”
His thumb caressed your cheekbone, soft touch across your soft skin, making your eyes flutter shut as your heart lost its rhythm.
“If you want to take this job in Geneva, we can still make it work.”
You lifted your eyelids again and pulled back, just to fall right into his hazel eyes.
“Just… don’t choose Tom…”
You shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. Your hands moved to hold his face in both of your palms, to make sure he would keep staring at you as you answered.
“Fuck Tom. Fuck Geneva. I’d rather go on a date with you.”
Andrew let out a chuckle, eyes crinkling as he smiled. Still, he had tears in his eyes all over again.
“You said it yourself, though. It’s a great opportunity for you.”
“I want to stay. If we give this a try, I want to stay.”
“Y/N…”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll be away for months…”
“And you’ll be the one paying for the plane tickets, I’m not emptying my bank account when I’ve got a millionaire as a boyfriend.”
You both laughed, and Andrew nodded, at last.
“Fair enough.”
You were about to speak but didn’t have the time, Andrew was leaning to kiss you again instead, and you couldn’t complain, didn’t want to stop his fall towards your mouth.
He hissed and pulled away too fast though, after mere seconds, looking down at his wounded palm that he had tried to press against your back.
“I should clean this up, and then we can keep on driving,” you proposed, and Andrew agreed with a nod, obediently holding his hand still while you took care of him. He did lean to kiss your forehead a couple of times though, and you were both still quite amazed that he could do it, or that he wanted to.
You would have to get used to it though. After the storm had passed, after you had found your way back onto the right road, after you had reached your destination, there was plenty of time to talk, to confess feelings you had both refrained for too long, for holding onto each other too tightly, for kissing until lips were bruised and numb and yet still willing.
Perhaps, this trip was not such a disaster, after all…
583 notes · View notes
k1ngdom-of-thieves · 10 months
Note
I've had this in my mind for the longest time now so here goes!
Riddle, Leona, and Malleus has a crush on MC, and one day they find MC trying to write... *gasp* a love letter! But they went "Oh, that isnt right... Maybe I'll find the words later." and tried to throw it away, only for it to end up in the boys' hands. How would they react when they realize the letter is addressed to them?
Thank you for sending an ask! Thank you so much for your patience.
Riddle, Leona, and Malleus + Finding Reader writing a love letter!
Riddle Rosehearts
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Riddle isn’t usually one to pry, especially when it involves affairs that don’t involve him, but you looked like you needed help writing a letter. Something he could definitely help with if you needed help articulating words.
When he saw you toss it away, he was a little confused but ultimately decided to leave it alone. That was until he noticed his name written in cursive on the front of the paper.
Does he know that’s incredibly invasive? Yes, but you seemed really stressed out over something you could just tell him yourself. He was a smidge worried.
So he reads the letter and is shocked with the revelation of you having a crush on him. He read it multiple times, trying to see if this was a joke or not. After thinking about it for a while, he decided to just go up to you and ask.
“Do you have a moment? I’d like to know if you were also interested in me? Pardon me for being so blunt, but I feel it’s best to just it off of my chest. *He then chuckles nervously*”
Leona Kingscholar
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Leona also usually doesn’t get into people’s business, mostly because you couldn’t pay him to care. But he sees Grim pulling on your sleeve towards him with a letter in your hand in the distance and he starts to believe that this might become his business soon.
He didn’t move a muscle. If you were gonna come to him, then he’d talk to you about it. However, he thought it was kinda funny to just watch you try to avoid this.
You manage to get Grim to drop it and you guys go off to buy tuna. What you didn’t notice was that the letter had fallen from your hands and Leona picked it up. He says that he was gonna get up anyway, but you know that’s bs.
He reads the letter with a smug expression on his face, and chuckles to himself as he finishes reading. He now sets off to let you know your so called “one-sided feelings” aren’t actually so one-sided.
“Hey, herbivore. You could’ve just said you like me. Didn’t need to do a whole song and dance about trying to avoid it.”
Malleus Draconia
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Malleus watched as you crumpled up yet another piece of paper, wondering what could possibly make you this nervous and upset. In fact, he was just about to get up and ask when you got up and left the library.
The fae walked over to where you were sitting and picked up one of the papers. He justified to himself that he was just cleaning up, but in reality he was just nosy. He started to read one and was surprised to see that they were all addressed to him. He picked up another letter, and just like he thought, it was also meant for him.
After he finished reading one of the more complete letters, he felt his face flush and his heart beat a little faster. His favorite human had feelings for him? Was this a dream?
He knew that he had to come to you right away, but decided that he should also write his feelings in a little letter. The man thought the idea was simply adorable.
So, he walked up to you as usual and gave you the letter with an expectant look. His eyes lit up as you became increasingly flustered reading his letter.
“So child of man, am I safe to assume we share the same feelings? There would be no greater honor than being yours.”
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spooky-bunnys · 11 months
Text
Alpha Draken x Omega Male Reader x Alpha Mikey
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Sunlight leaked into the bedroom where two Alpha's were laying. One on each sides the middle empty. The Alpha on the right reached towards the middle and quickly sat up when he realized it was empty. He quickly woke up the Alpha on the left. "Ken-chin wake up!" Draken groaned and turned over. "5 more minutes Mikey." "But (Name)-chin isn't in bed!"
That woke him up. Draken quickly sat up and looked at the middle of the bed. Empty. He put his hand down. Cold. "When did he wake up?! He's 8 months pregnant how did he leave the bed without us knowing!?" Both Alpha's quickly left the bed hurriedly put on shirts and pants and were rancing out of the bedroom door. Half-way through the hallway they could smell delicious food.
'Kitchen' they thought. When they finally arrived to he kitchen they saw their beautiful (hair colored) omega making breakfast. Four bento's made. Their twin boys sitting at the breakfast table. "(Name)-chin?" (Name) turned to his alphas and smiled brightly. 'Angel' both Alpha's thought. "Morning Alpha's! Did you sleep well?" Mikey nodded kissed (Name) softly and sat at the table quietly talking to the twins.
Draken shook his head and smirk softly. "How did you leave the bed without waking us up?" (Name) looked at him confused. "But I woke up Jiro hungry for (food) and he told me to make it myself and when I realized the time I figured, Hey I could make it for breakfast!" The smile the Omega's face could melt any cold heart.
Draken froze repeating what (Name) said in his head before he glared at Mikey. "You told our 8 month pregnant Omega to get. No. MAKE. The food he's craving!?" Mikey froze and a look of horror flashed across his face. "I thought I dreamed that" Miey spoke quietly. (Name) giggled and put breakfast on the table and kissed the twins heads.
"My handsome boys! Ready for school? Momma has to finish making your bento's then he'll join your for breakfast!" That's when the younger twin spoke up. "A-Actually momma I don't want a bento today." The heart break on (Name)'s face spoke many things. Draken and Mikey froze. They knew how important food was to him.
That's how they met. The boys skipped class one day in middle school. They were running around beating up bad delinquents. When Mikey got hungry but there wasn't any restaurants nearby and Draken was broke. That's when they met a sweet Omega who was home schooled. He shared with them his bento and the rest was history. They fell for his kindness and delicious food.
"B-But Momma put so much love in it baby..." (Name) looked like he was gonna cry and with how crazy his hormones were he actually might. Draken quickly changed topics and moved the Omega back into the kitchen talking about dinner, while Mikey stared at the twins. They had both his and Drakens features. Both Alpha's loved (Name)'s cooking so something had to be wrong.
"Who did what?" Mikey's question made the twin freeze. (A! Kid Name) looked at his younger brother with a worried expression. His brother was an omega and sometimes got picked on at school. He wasn't always there to save him and that scared him. (O! Kid Name) looked up and whined. He didn't like being in trouble. "A-An Alpha keeps taking my bento..." The air froze as Draken who had been standing in the door way spoke with a calm voice. "What?"
After explaining what's been happening Mikey and Draken were ready to round up Toman and go on a hunt. Luckily (Name) calmed his Alpha's down. "Why don't we talk to the Alpha and his parents? Maybe we can settle this." Mikey and Draken shared a look and nodded. 'If we want him to disappear, so does his family.' As if he knew what they were thinking (Name) sent the two a hard look.
Later that week both sets of parents were in the principals office. All 3 kids with both parents the teacher and the principal. Mikey and Draken were staring down the young Alpha. This is the kid terrorizing their baby. His parents didn't look different considering they just learned that their son is picking on a Omega. "Son! How dare you?! We raised you better then this!" His parents were giving him a lecture that would last generations.
(O! Kid Name) looked to be in tears. He didn't mean to get the boy in trouble. That's when the other kid spoke and froze everyone. "It's because I like him!" Mikey and Draken felt their hearts stop and their blood turn cold. (Name) smiled brightly and bent down the best he could. Considering he could pop at any moment. "Aww my baby already has an admire! Well why don't I make more so you two could share?"
That snapped the two Alpha's out of their minds. Share? They remembered how they met and fell in love and paled. "NO!" Everyone jumped at the two Alpha's yelling! (Name) looked confused. "Why not?" The two grabbed the twins and held them close. "Their too young!" Mikey wailed. Draken nodded face serious. "Not my little baby!"
(Name) shook his head. A fond smile on his face. That smile left when he felt water hit the floor. "Speaking of baby." He spoke gaining everyone's attention. "My water just broke." It was like hell froze over and chaos began.
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dear-bunnyboo · 6 months
Text
𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐒 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖
Since I’ve been focusing on my Joey B series for the a couple of weeks now, I decided to change it up a bit and write a one shot for a change,,, enjoy!
This was submitted to me anonymously by one of y’all and I accidentally posted it instead of saving it to drafts, so I ended up deleting it. So whoever, requested for this— I really hope you see this 🤍
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: On the outside Joe was seen as serious and stoic but what they don’t see behind the scenes is the big baby you call your boyfriend.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, more fluff, cursing, teasing, slight tension, flirting, established relationship, pet names, and did I mention fluff?
𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Joe Burrow is one of the best quarterbacks in the league. His teammates and opponents alike would always share both privately and publicly how Joe was someone they are scared to play against— calling him "silent but deadly". Players that had the opportunity to play against him would either call him "calm" or "poised". He had an attitude and mentality that either shocked or scared people— Joe could handle tackle after tackle, the trash talk he would get in the field would go in an ear and out the other— he'd listen quietly and prove them wrong in so many ways.
Joe is cold as ice.
He is ruthless on the field and outside he was serious. So, it seems amusing to you how your "scary" boyfriend was walking around with a literal pout gracing his face as he trailed behind you while you decorated your house for Halloween.
"You can continue that later. Let's watch the new show I was talking about— come on, baby." Joe whined with his deep gruff voice.
It was a peculiar dynamic you two had, one that both puzzled and amused the people around you. On the surface, he was a towering, imposing figure, someone whom people would describe as intimidating, even scary. But they didn't know the softer side of him, the part he revealed only to you, and it was something truly endearing.
At first, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his clinginess. He would drop everything he was doing if you asked him to, and he would eagerly help with any request, no matter how trivial or absurd it might be. He was the kind of boyfriend who would move mountains to make you happy, and at times, it was a lot to handle— but you truly wouldn't have it any other way.
"Joe that's the thing— the second we start cuddling on that sofa, we would never leave and I need to finish decorating the house before the party." you explained to your boyfriend who was looking at you like he was about to pick you up and slam you down on the couch.
"The party is not until tomorrow night." You and Joe were hosting a Halloween party with your closest friends tomorrow night and you wanted everything to be perfect.
"How about you help me. This way we can finish faster and then we can watch the show." you proposed to the blonde who seemed to like the idea of fasten the pace of decorating.
"I'm all yours, baby. What do you want me to do?" Joe grabs the pumpkin decoration from your hand.
You smiled at his enthusiasm to help before directing him to place the decoration in the kitchen.
It took you a while to get used to Joe's affection. and once you got to know him better, you began to understand the depth of his affection. He was fiercely loyal and protective, and his commitment to your relationship was unwavering. His willingness to go the extra mile for you was his way of showing how much he cared.
Despite Joe's imposing exterior, he was surprisingly tender and considerate. He would try to cook your favorite meals, leave sweet notes hidden for you to find, and surprise you with small, thoughtful gestures. Joe knows all your favorite songs, your deepest fears, and the little quirks that made you who you are.
Joe's softness was most evident in the way he treated his friends, particularly when they needed help. He was the dependable rock in their lives, the one who would listen to their problems and offer a shoulder to lean on. It was a side of him that they cherished, and one that he didn't feel the need to hide.
Both your friends couldn't quite grasp this side of him. They would tease him mercilessly, calling him whipped, and questioning why he worshipped the ground you walked on. But you knew it wasn't about worship; it was about love. He didn't just love you; he adored you, and he wanted to make you feel cherished and special every single day.
You silently watched as Joe carefully rearranged the different Halloween decorations across the house making sure they looked perfect according to your standards. He patiently moved them around as you directed him over and over again with not a single complain whatsoever— only the compliment every minute or so. "You have an eye for this." he said as he moved back to get a more detailed look, his hands on his hips as he gave you his most beautiful smile, "You are amazing at decorating, baby." Joe said before placing a peck on your lips
You glanced at the clock, realizing that it was much later than you had anticipated. As much as you loved decorating, you knew that spending time with Joe was equally important. He was patient, but you could see the excitement in his eyes as he talked about the show.
"Well, it's late and it's hard to resist your persuasive charms. Alright, let's watch your show, but I might sneak a few glances at the decor every now and then." you smiled up at him. Joe's face lit up with a warm smile, and he gently pulled you into his arms.
"Deal! I promise you won't regret it. And, who knows, maybe taking a break will inspire some new decorating ideas. Plus, we can relax and unwind together. I promise, I'll help you with anything tomorrow." Joe beamed at you before carrying you to the living room.
This is how Joe found himself at a bakery the next day— you asked him to pick up the cakes and desserts for the party and Joe could not say no because of your pretty little eyes staring up at him— plus he promised.
Joe was accompanied by Ja'Marr, Tee, and Sam who were attending the party as well as you busied yourself with the final touches back at home. You were sitting in the living room, trying to figure out what else to add to the area, engrossed in your own world when your phone pinged with an incoming video from Ja'Marr. Curious, you opened it to find your boyfriend's face illuminated on the screen. But what caught your attention was the laughter and teasing from his friends in the background— which were the laughs and voices of Ja'Marr, Tee, and Sam who should be helping Joe pick up the food for tonight.
"Joey B!" Ja'Marr exclaimed, as the camera panned to Joe's phone who simply stood with his phone out and a smirk on his face— shaking his head because of his friends’ behavior.
There, on the screen, was a clear shot of your contact information on Joe's phone. The caller ID photo was a picture of you from one of your early dates, smiling against a stunning sunset backdrop. In the photo, you had the biggest smile on your face that Joe has always found adorable.
The caller ID they were teasing him about was 'Mamas'— the pet name Joe would call you from time to time which was your absolute favorite. There was just something about the way your boyfriend says it that gets you going— however, you didn't know that this was what your contact was saved on his phone.
"Aw, dude, that's so cute!" Sam chortled, pointing at the screen. "You've got her as your caller ID with that sappy picture? Man, you're whipped!"
Amidst the laughter and playful jabs, Joe just chuckled and defended himself, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, guys. I like it, alright."
Your heart melted as you watched the video. Here was your boyfriend, being openly teased and mocked by his friends for his cute caller ID choice, and he didn't mind one bit. Joe was unapologetic about his feelings for you, and his friends couldn't help but admire that fact.
"Alright, man. Say goodbye to Y/N." Ja'Marr pointed to camera back to Joe's face who still had that damn smirk on his face he knew you loved.
"Bye, Mamas." Joe's deep voice resonated almost knocking the air out of your chest, you were now blushing as you stared at your phone— giggling as you laid back on the couch, your thoughts only on Joe, completely forgetting the task that you had in hand.
"Bye, Mamas!" "Mamas! "Bye bye, Mamas!" Tee, Ja'Marr, Sam chorused before a loud yet gruff voice interrupted off screen.
"You don't get to fucking call her that."
The video ended with his friends continuing to tease, but there was an undertone of respect and camaraderie in their laughter. It was clear to you that the love and affection he had for you were transparent in every aspect of his life, even his phone's caller ID.
You felt a warm, glowing pride knowing that Joe wasn't afraid to embrace his love for you, even in the face of good-natured ribbing from his friends. It was a sweet reminder of the affection you two shared, and it made you heart swell with happiness.
In Joe's presence, you felt safe and loved, knowing that you had someone who would stand by your side through thick and thin. You could see past the intimidating facade and into the heart of a man who was simply head over heels in love with you. His clinginess, as others might call it, was a testament to the intensity of his feelings.
Your relationship was a unique blend of toughness and tenderness, a world only the two of you truly understood. As you walked through life hand in hand, you realized that you didn't need the world to see what you saw in him. The softness beneath his exterior was a precious gift he had given you, and you cherished it with all your heart.
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dividers: @cafekitsune
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf @kkrenae @catswag22 @hustler-sinner @asparklysoul @kaydesssssssss @97bngchn @dunningz @whiteleoqueen @austinswhitewolf
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ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!
: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡
-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ
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macfrog · 9 months
Text
la petite mort sex on fire chapter four
bonsoir my children. it's your cool slutty daddy, ceo!joel, back for round two of paris trip. please enjoy, i hope this one causes less confusion but just as much heart failure as last chapter. love u guys long time. literally SO much. 💘✨💓
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pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: you spend your second day in paris being spoiled by joel, who buys you anything you set eyes on. you’ve a treat of your own in mind as a thank-you, later on
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) another fucking confusing flashback, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, more obscene spending, sexy french speaking, sugardaddy!joel, BIG flirting, alcohol consumption, sexy lingerie, lapdance, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected piv sex, titty appreciation, assplay, double penetration, dom!joel, softdom!joel, ripping of expensive lingerie (rip), overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!joel, angst, themes of abandonment, fluff in the end i'm a romantic at heart
word count: 6.2k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first. “Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.” “Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?” “No, daddy. Just – want – you.”
The late afternoon sun has dipped behind the clouds. The wind’s picked up, too. You’re standing on the terrace of your suite, elbows propped on the metal railing, watching the light slowly drain from the sky, and melt into tiny twinkling headlights on the roads below.
Paris stares straight back at you. Melancholy, in this light. A little faded, worn, a washed gray as she loses her fight with the slow-setting sun. Your eyes trace the skyline, jumping from buildings to streetlights, following birds in the distance as they loop and soar over the city. Free. Held down to nothing, and no one.
When you close your eyes, he’s on the couch beside you. Blue-eyed stare cloudy, eyes puffy and red with tears he’s doing everything to hold back. Calling you sweetheart, telling you we can work through this. He’s got your bare fingers in his, thumbs running across your knuckles, rubbing circles around the empty space on your third finger. You have an impulse to stand up and walk out. You think you might follow through with it.
You don’t even hear him come in, don’t hear him call your name. Only feel when his arm snakes around your waist and he turns you to face him. Your eyes flutter back open.
“Hey,” Joel says, leaning back to look you up and down. “Nice robe.”
His fingers toy with the belt, thumb running across the soft terrycloth.
“You smell like whiskey,” you mutter, hands resting on his chest. You take a deep breath, pushing the relief you feel now that he’s back, down to the pit of your stomach. And then you finally look him in the eye. “How was Jean-Marc?”
Joel shrugs. “Same as usual. Wants to meet you.”
“You mentioned me?”
He bypasses your question. “Said I’d check with you, but he wants to have us for breakfast tomorrow.”
You nod. “Sounds like a nice guy.”
Joel grumbles, his lips tighten, and he looks out over the view behind you. You tilt your head and his hands take yours, dropping them to your side. His eyes fall low, past the tie he was just messing with.
“You gettin’ ready to go?”
“I was about to, yeah,” you reply, breathing a laugh when he starts to kneel in front of you. “Joel.”
“Mhm?” he asks, but he’s not listening, is he? His hands run up your legs, starting at your knees, and push the edges of your robe apart the higher they go.
“We – gotta – Joel,” you sigh, head rolling back, hands gripping the railing.
Joel’s lips part on your inner thigh, his tongue runs along your skin, trailing northward. His hands precede, pushing under your robe now to cup your naked ass, when he lifts his chin and glances up.
“Nothin’ on under it, baby,” he whispers, tsking. “’m I gonna do with you?”
“We have–” you shudder when his fingers move between your legs, “–to go get ready.”
“So go.”
Fucker.
You lean back against the glass, eyes quickly scanning the hotel in front of you, searching the neighboring windows for any prying eyes, but in the slow-moving blanket of dusk, mixed with your will to care quickly depleting, you find none.
Your attention draws back to Joel, whose lips run dangerously close to your center.
“Open, baby,” he says, and you don’t think about it. Your body just does what he tells it to.
Your legs fall open, head lulls to one side, fingers move through his hair. His jaw lowers, breath gently tickling your soft skin, and then his lips cup around your mound.
You breathe a sigh of relief. Which quickly morphs into a moan, open-mouthed and broken, when Joel’s tongue sweeps over your clit.
“There,” you whisper, a little more serious than you intended, “do that – again.”
He obeys, wet tongue licking you again while his hands pull your thighs over his shoulders. Your weight shifts onto his body, back arching as he sucks on the sensitive bud.
Your hips roll, needing him a little more and a little further south. And he hears you, again. He takes a hand off of your leg, middle and ring fingers joining together to push up between your folds and inside you, dragging a whine from your lips.
“Yeah,” you moan, feeling yourself driving into his mouth and fucking yourself on his hand at the same time.
“Taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbles, mouth preoccupied.
Your head falls back, body slung over the balcony, thighs spreading ever so slightly to have more of him on more of you. And then your head starts to dizzy, your body hums in pleasure, your cunt starts to throb.
But before it goes any further, he’s pulling away.
His lips leave first. Then he draws his hand from between you, sucks his fingers clean and stands. Is he fucking –
“– serious?” you ask, jolting back to life.
He smirks, tongue pushing around his cheeks. “Hurry up ‘n get ready. I wanna go down to the bar for a drink before the car comes.”
And then he’s turning on his heel, striding back inside.
“And what about me?”
“What about you?” he calls over his shoulder.
Your hands hit your thighs with a slap. “Fucking…sadist,” you hiss after him, following him into the warmly lit living room of your suite and down the hallway to the bedroom. Trying to ignore the ache between your legs which only grows worse the more you move.
“I’ll take good care of you later, angel.”
He sits back against the dresser at the foot of the bed, nods toward the black dress you’d laid out on the mattress an hour ago.
“Go on.”
“Go on what?”
“Show me the dress I paid three grand for on you, instead of it laying on the fuckin’ bed.”
You roll your eyes and storm by him, grabbing the black fabric, and lock yourself in the bathroom.
“’n don’t you think about finishin’ yourself!” Joel calls through the door.
“Fuck you!” you throw back, hearing his cocky laugh echo around the room.
You untie your robe in front of the mirror, letting it drop off of your shoulders into a pool of white cloth at your feet. Your eyes flit down your naked body – scanning from your shoulders over your breasts, around your tummy and down your thighs. You slip the black material over your head – a little stretch in it, just enough to mold around your body – and tug it down until it sits comfortably on your thighs.
The smooth skirt sits perfectly on your hips, curving around your ass and pulling in at your waist. You adjust the thin straps, fixing your breasts into place above a cut-out, just revealing enough. Backless, of course, straps crisscrossing over your skin.
It's skimpy, and it’s sexy, and it’s enough to make you look expensive as fuck and also make Joel want to rip it off of you the second you two make it back to the suite.
Enough to make him want to rip it off you before you’ve even left the suite, going by his reaction when you step out of the bathroom. He catches you in the mirror whilst he buttons his shirt, and turns, mouth falling open, eyes dancing all across your body.
You wordlessly sit, slip your feet into the heels you’d chosen, and fish the diamond-encrusted jewelry Joel had bought you from its box – pull the necklace around your neck, clip the earrings into place, and push the bracelets over your wrist. Then, you sling your jacket over your arm, and stand.
“I’m ready.”
“You…” His eyes scan down you again, settling on your chest for a couple seconds. “Yeah, baby. Give me five minutes.”
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The hotel bar reflects perfectly the intimidating grandeur of your suite, despite being a small room. It’s intimate, and pleasant, lit in a warm glow, and as you stroll in on Joel’s arm beneath a huge, ornate chandelier, you feel a smile pull across your lips. You’re not fucking sure why.
He leads you over to two heavy leather stools, pulling one out and waiting for you to hop up on it before he sits beside you. He orders two glasses of red wine, and the waiter craftily pours a small drop into one glass, setting it down in front of you and waiting for you to take a sip and approve before he pours the rest.
“Pétrus,” the waiter says, focusing intently on filling Joel’s glass. “Most expensive wine in France.”
You shoot Joel a look, but he’s already lifting his glass, glint in his eye. You hesitantly pick yours up and bump it into his, taking another sip.
“Good?” Joel asks, licking his lips.
You nod. “A little too good.”
He laughs. Then he nods at the waiter, who smiles, turns to you, and winks.
You smile back, a little embarrassed. “Merci beaucoup.”
As the waiter leaves you both, Joel turns, a look on his face you’ve never seen before. “Nice accent,” he says.
You scoff. “I hope it’s a nice accent, I studied it for six years.”
“Studied French?”
You nod.
“When?”
“High school, and then all through college.”
“How did I not know that about you?”
“It’s on my resume,” you say into your wine glass, “which I now know you didn’t read when you hired me.”
“Didn’t have to,” Joel replies. “I took one look at your pretty face ‘n decided you had the job.”
Him and his quick fucking wit. He almost catches you blushing, but you save it by shaking your head, and looking at the striped-wall room around you. There’s a framed picture of a horse on the wall behind Joel. Two men sit in animated conversation on the velvet couch below it, one of them clutching a wine that’s about to spill over.
When your eyes drift back to Joel, his are fixated elsewhere.
“Oh, be less obvious, Joel,” you mutter, corners of your mouth twitching.
“Can’t help it,” he finally draws his gaze from your chest, “they look so good. That dress is…” He shakes his head.
“You chose well.”
“Say somethin’ French to me.”
“Uh, no.”
“Uh, yeah. Tell me I chose well in French.”
“Tell me how the meeting went.”
Joel sits back, pushing air out of his cheeks. “Can’t do that.”
“Then no French.”
“Baby, c’mon. Just for me.”
You shake your head, pouting your lip. “Nope.”
Joel pleads a few more times, promises he’ll buy you more things, promises he’ll order more wine, even promises he’ll fuck you in the bathroom right now if you’ll just say one sentence in French to him.
You don’t relent.
Not until you’re a couple more wines deep, leaning into one another, your knees between his, pointing out other guests in the room and conjuring make-believe backstories for them.
“That one,” you say, hushed, shoulder brushing off of Joel’s, “in the corner, by the lamp. He’s waitin’ for a date, a Tinder date, who–”
Joel snorts. “A Tinder date?”
“–a Tinder date, who used photos of Cindy Crawford on her profile.”
Joel’s head tips back with laughter, his hand steadies himself on the bar. “If Cindy Crawford ends up walkin’ in here, you’re gonna be real sorry.”
You lean into his shirt, giggling into the cotton. When you lift your head, the two of you quietening again, you look into his eyes.
Blurry around the edges, a little too much wine in your system, you whisper: “Kiss me.”
Joel’s head cocks. He leans in, and you lift your jaw. His lips part, breath hot over your red lips, and he says, “You’re gonna get us into trouble, darlin’.”
“Je m’en fous,” you reply.
“Monsieur,” a voice from your right breaks between you, “your car is outside.”
Joel straightens up, clears his throat, and thanks the waiter with another nod. His palm runs along the bar toward your arm, which he takes, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, and he nods again toward the doors.
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Dinner was as fucking extreme as all of this has been. Food you’d never seen before, a menu you could barely translate even with language experience. Waiters who arrived at your table if you so much as looked up at them.
And more wine. A lot more wine.
You both stumble back into the suite, arms linked, laughter chorusing against the beige walls. Joel keeps a vice grip on your hand as you spin around him, wrapping you up in his arms when you’re close enough, and runs a thumb across your cheek when you’ve stopped giggling.
“That was fun,” he says, and you nod.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “For all of it. I don’t even know what to say.”
He shakes his head in response. “You’re my guest.”
“Didn’t have to be,” you say, “could’ve brought Martha.”
“Oh, yeah, Martha. She’d be a fuckin’ hoot.”
He lets go of you, your laughter picking back up, and you split off. Joel wanders over to the minibar, and you…you wander off down the hall.
You’ve something in mind.
Safely in the bedroom, you slink over to your case and lift the bag you’d hidden in there earlier. You sneak into the bathroom, closing the door as softly as possible, and whip your little black dress over your head. You turn back to the mirror.
Same reflection as before. Same naked body. A little faded, a little unfocused, jewelry catching the light like stars in the night sky, but the same.
You reach into the white bag, like it’s a lucky draw, and lift out the soft black lace. One by one, you add each little piece – the bra cups your breasts, lifting them just the right amount. The panties sit on your hips, garter belt just above, hooked onto thigh-high, lace top stockings. And finally, the robe.
You tie it loosely at your waist, leaving it just open enough to reveal the balconette bra underneath. One last hazy look in the mirror, and you tumble back out into the bedroom and over to the door.
Your fingers clutch the gold handle, shaking a little. The cold metal bites against your skin, hot with adrenaline and determination. You twist, pulling gently on the door, and wander back to the living room.
The lights are still out, the room dark against the sparkling cityscape. There’s soft music playing, some seventies soul stuff. He’s on the balcony. The sliding doors open wide, sheer curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. His silhouette stands black against the glittering Eiffel Tower in front of him. He’s holding a whiskey.
You slip out from behind the door and let it close over gently, walking slowly across the soft carpet toward him. He can’t have heard you, you’re being too quiet, but he turns anyway, and spots you in the middle of the room.
His eyes rake down your figure, mouth falling agape. Whiskey almost spilling over from how limp his arms fall.
“Baby…” he whispers.
You take another step forward. So does Joel. Your hand reaches for the back of one of the chairs, tucked neatly under the dining table. You drag it along the carpet, setting it just in front of you, facing him, and stand back.
“Want you to sit.”
Joel nods, a voiceless Okay sneaks past his lips, and he sits back in the chair, placing the whiskey at his feet.
The song fades into a steady love song, string orchestra echoing in the background, slow, sultry. The smooth vocals fill the room, quiet and relaxing, and push you nearer him, rounding the back of the chair.
Your hands run over Joel’s shoulders as you curve around to face him, and slot in between his parted thighs. Watching as his eyes shift up and down your figure. Watching as his breath hitches, his chest shuddering anytime you move.
You’re ignoring the rise and fall of your own chest; nerves and desire and complete fucking disbelief at what you’re doing all fighting to break through. Your stomach is flipping, pulse jerking every time your eyes cross paths with Joel’s.
You nudge his legs open wider, lift his wrists, and place his hands on your waist. His fingers pull on the silk belt, loosening your robe until he’s slipping it over your shoulders, revealing every inch of lace and strap of satin to his lust-blown eyes.
“This all for me?” he asks, fucking…wonderstruck. His fingers dance along the garter belt, dipping where it clips onto your stockings.
You cock your head in a shrug. “You paid for it.”
He smiles. As if it’s Christmas and you just gave him the gift at the top of his wish list. And then you bend your knees, lowering between his thighs and dragging your hands down his front, stopping by his stiffening crotch as you go.
Joel hisses through clenched teeth, spurring you on. You palm him through his trousers, never touching his zipper, only letting him go so far as grinding his hips into your hands, before your palms slip down to his knees and you push yourself up.
Joel meets you halfway, leans forward to let your lips ghost across his. Your back arched, knees digging into the plush carpet, you trail your tongue from his chin down his bearded jawline, stopping when you reach the collar of his shirt.
And then you stand again, taking his hands and replacing them on your body. Anywhere on your fucking body. Feeling him on you is like feeling the soothing flicker of the fire after a walk in the freezing cold, and when his palms aren’t pressing against your ribcage, his fingers aren’t running between your thighs, that bitter cold bites back.
Joel hums, still taking you in through glassy eyes. “So…fuckin’ beautiful, babygirl.”
In response, you lift your knees, placing them one by one on either side of his hips. You settle against his body and push him back in the chair.
Your clothed heat lowers onto his waist, lace running across the rough fabric of his trousers, forcing a choked moan from your lips at the contact. Your skin alight, nerves burning with excitement and arousal, the slightest touch only fuels the fire more.
You grind down on him, hips rocking in time with the music. Letting his hands hold you around your back, letting him feel any part of you he fucking wants. His fingers knead roughly into your round ass, and he bucks up against your core.
You hover over him, running a hand from your stomach over your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits through your bra. And then back down again, to slip over the lace of your panties and relieve the tension there even if only for a second before you’re feeling down your thighs.
You link your arms back around Joel’s shoulders. “You gonna pay me back?” you whisper, head lowering to bury into his neck.
“No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he slurs back.
You suck a mark into the hot skin, breathing against his pulse, “Think you do, daddy. You owe me one.”
His head rolls, bass of his laughter vibrating against your lips. “So fuckin’ slutty, darlin’. You want it that bad?”
“Mhm,” you mewl, lips still tight against his neck, fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt lower and lower.
Joel told Martha he needed you here only to keep him right. Make sure he got everywhere on time, make sure things ran smoothly. Drop off drycleaning, pick it up before he had appearances. Get him pastries from that patisserie he loves around the corner for breakfast. There’s an empty suite downstairs that he made her book for you – an almost three grand per night suite that you both knew the entire fucking time you’d never set foot in. All to keep up with the story.
The story that you’re here strictly on PA duty. Seeing him off in cars, making sure he gets back to the hotel at night. And that’s it. Not buying lingerie with his card, and putting it on for him, and mounting him in the living room of his suite. Not letting him slip your panties to the side and run his cock through your folds, balcony doors wide open, moans escaping out into the late Parisian night.
But now his hands are on you, really on you; strong, wide hands, slipping around your waist, pressing down on the lace of your lingerie, massaging the softest parts of your body and scooping under your ass to align you to his length.
And you’re letting him.
Your hands are sifting through his hair as he breathes you in, his nose buried between your breasts. Your back arches when he finally enters you, giving you what you need most in the form of his thick cock pushing up into your warm cunt.
Like there’s nothing new, or weird, or different. Like this is all you know how to do; all you’ve ever known about him. You’re not in the office; he’s not your boss. He doesn’t tell you to shred files or organize his schedule.
This is what he does. This. He asks things of you with his hands and you fold every time. He runs his lips along the curve of your breasts and peels the delicate fabric of your bra down to wrap his mouth around your nipple, flick his tongue across it until your head rolls back and you’re moaning his name to the ceiling.
“Make yourself cum, baby,” Joel breathes against your hot skin.
His tongue is swirling around your nipple. Teeth grazing the pointed bud. He’s grinning to himself as he does it. He’s fucking lapping this up.
“So pretty when you’re wrapped around me.”
And then his fingers are toying with the clasp of your bra, and as you sink down over and over on his cock, he lets the cupped lace fall to the floor, lips instantly returning to their place on your tits.
You hold his head there, looking down and watching while you slowly bounce on his cock as he kisses, caresses, sucks.
The pleasure boiling between your legs starts to spill over, your body unable to take much more without releasing. And when Joel mumbles against your skin, “Can feel you, darlin’, squeezing me so tight,” you let go.
Your orgasm, nearly four hours in the making, rocks through your body in tidal waves, throwing your head back. Joel’s arms keep you safe on his lap as you writhe, gasping and moaning his name until you can think straight again.
When you come back to, he lifts you up. Carries you like you’re made of diamonds through to the bedroom and lays you down on the soft mattress, calling you angel, telling you you’re the prettiest fuckin’ girl he’s ever seen.
He dips his fingers and traces them along your panties, feeling the mess you just made, humming in amusement. He asks again if this is all for him and when you moan out a desperate Yeah, daddy, he tells you he’s gonna make you cum again.
He takes your waist and flips you over, propping you up on your knees in front of him. He peels the white shirt from his shoulders, tossing it somewhere in the dark room, and asks if that’s what you want – to cum again. Yeah, daddy.
And when he asks who this tight little pussy belongs to, leaning forward to align with your wet mess of a cunt, your thighs spreading to accommodate the size of him, every fucking nerve in your body on fire: You, daddy.
“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first.
“Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.”
“Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?”
“No, daddy. Just – want – you.”
Every fucking time. Every mindless, depraved time, you do it for him. Only for him.
You cum again on his cock before he’s even five thrusts in. His words send you hurtling over the edge by themselves; the massive dick burying itself between your legs is just a bonus – and something to let your walls clamp around when your back arches, chest pushes into the mattress, and your orgasm floods over you.
Joel rocks his hips slowly as you come down, cunt swollen and almost agony. His hands run from your thighs up around the globe of your ass, massaging gently. You push back, wanting more pressure from his hands, and his fingers slip against your tight hole.
You jut forward with a moan. A moan Joel knows all too well.
“Easy, easy.” He holds you steady, replacing his fingers against your asshole, pressing delicately. “You like that?”
“Fuck,” you breathe, “mhm.”
“Yeah?”
You’re nodding, though you know he can’t see you in the dark.
“Baby?”
“Yeah,” you choke out. Desperate. Depraved.
He lifts his hand and spits; you feel a bead of saliva dribble down your ass, only to be collected by the pads of his fingertips and dragged back up. Smeared over the ring of your ass, massaged into the sensitive skin around it.
“Daddy…” you moan, hips gyrating.
“’s a good girl,” Joel replies, “just relax, darlin’, you do that for me?”
You can hear in his voice he’s focusing. Eyes glued on your ass, watching as you open up around his first finger, pushing slowly inside.
Your whole body freezes as he enters you. Breath cuts short in your throat. Your mouth falls open, throat constricted around a moan.
“Breathe, babygirl.”
And you do. Well, it’s more of a gasp, a broken whine, and then a long, needy sigh, curled up at the end like it’s a request – a plea for Joel to keep going.
It’s tight. It feels…tender, and overwhelming, and good. More than good. Your hips move backward, pushing onto Joel; a swelling feeling overcoming you, the more of him you take.
“Good girl…” he whispers again.
You’re as fucking shocked as he is that you’re letting him do it – letting him slip inside both holes at once, exploring one while keeping the other content with lazy thrusts.
“Think you can take it, baby?”
“Yeah, daddy,” you tell him, body urging him to fuck you again.
So, he does. His cock picks up speed, finger knuckle-deep, curling around inside your ass. You’re gripping the bedsheets, whimpering softly into them, feeling your stomach tighten as your third orgasm begins to rise.
“Keep – doing – that,” you utter as his hips collide with yours, his thick finger picking up pace ever so slightly.
“Such a dirty girl. So fuckin’ dirty for me. You do this for all of ‘em, baby?”
The laugh you breathe answers his question. No, you don’t fucking do this – for anyone. You didn’t know until five minutes ago this was something you were into. It’s Joel. He’s the only one who could convince you – whether through his words, his expressions, or just his fucking body – to –
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.
“Know you are, pretty girl,” Joel says, “let me feel you. Cum all over me.”
Your body collapses when your high takes over. Electricity thrumming through you, contracting around Joel’s cock and his finger. He coos you through it, whispers words of praise and filth in your ear until you’re no longer screaming, no longer able to hold yourself up.
He slowly removes his finger, soaked with his spit. You whine as it leaves you, missing the feeling, but it’s not long before his hands are on you again, flipping you back over.
He drags the clothes from his legs and pushes you up the mattress, slotting between your hips, one hand coming down to grip the lace front of your panties. He rips it, tearing the material off of your body in one motion.
You gasp, equal parts aroused as you are fucking outraged. You liked those panties. You wanted to keep ‘em.
“Fuck, Joel!”
He pushes back against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to dot kisses along your skin.
“Buy you more, baby.”
“This whole getup,” you moan, “it cost you a grand.”
He lifts his head. “Well, in that case,” he kisses your collarbone, “buy you ten more.”
Your eyes roll back and your head follows, sinking deep into the sheets under your body. You’re sure you know where this is going, what he’s about to ask of you. You’re not sure you can give it to him. Three orgasms deep, you can barely feel when he’s massaging your sex, never mind lining his cock to it and pushing the tip inside.
“One more, angel,” he utters, looking down to guide himself through your glistening folds. “Just one more.”
“Can’t, daddy,” you whimper, but he pushes your thighs up, bending your knees. It’s borderline painful, the stretch you feel when he’s barely an inch inside.
“Yes, you can. Know you can.”
He could fuck you and cum himself without asking you to – and you’d be okay with it. You know it. He knows it. Just a few tight, wet thrusts and he’d be coming undone inside you. But he wants to do it together. Loves the way you feel when you tighten around him, squeeze him, draw his release out of him. Loves the way your voices sound together, the way you grip onto him and pull him flush against your body.
And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, too. The way he looks when he’s deep inside you, eyes shut, focused on nothing except the pretty noises you make and the sweet way you wrap around him, warm and snug. So you let him take you to the edge again, throw your arms around him, and fall.
Hard.
The shock of it surges through you, stars burst across your vision. You drive your nails into his shoulders, scream out into the night, moans mixed with curses and gasps and – fuck it – cries of daddy loud enough that the thought of a noise complaint at your door floats through your mind.
Joel lets out a deep groan when he cums, filling your tight cunt with his seed, face still buried in your neck. Your legs untense, thighs slip down his waist and onto the bed, your arms unlink from around his neck.
“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your skin.
You’re panting, chest lifting against Joel’s. He pushes into the mattress and rolls off of you, dropping in a heap to the bed at your side. You lay like that for a while, waiting for the fluttering feeling to subside, waiting for any feeling to come back to your body.
Joel pushes off of the bed and dips into the bathroom, still groaning anytime he moves. Water runs for a couple minutes, a gentle whirring as he cools his face and washes up, and then he’s back in the bedroom, sinking into the bed beside you.
He props himself up on his elbow and runs a hand across your damp forehead, unsticking your hair from your face. Intimate, vulnerable. You’ve slept together four times now, and this is the closest you’ve felt to him.
You push down an ache, different to the one he just satisfied – four times over. No, this is deeper. Somewhere more hidden. An ache for him to hold you, run his hands down your back until your body feels like yours again. An ache for him to take you in his strong arms and keep you still, keep you steady.
An ache that feels…dangerous. An ache you want to disappear. Now.
“You okay?” Joel asks, and you nod.
He studies you for a while, looking up and down your body, smiling to himself. This isn’t something either of you are going to forget for a while.
“What’s this?”
Joel takes gentle hold of the gold chain around your sweat-glistening neck, running it between his fingers until he’s holding one half of a broken heart.
“Notice you wearin’ it all the time.”
You take a deep breath before replying, watching as he looks at it intently in his hand. “My mom has the other half. It makes up a heart. We got ‘em when I was sixteen, right after…”
Joel’s eyes drift up to yours when your sentence crumbles. His soft gaze encourages you to continue.
“…right after my dad left.”
He almost winces.
You’d always hated Wednesdays. Wednesdays meant Math, and Math meant two hours of sitting in total confusion, dodging your teacher’s requests for answers and counting down the minutes until class ended.
But your dad told you that you should do well in it, so you were trying. For him.
One Wednesday, Miss Pepperman handed out the results of the previous week’s test. You’d scored well, maybe not as good as some of the others, but decent by your own standards. You snuck the test paper into your bag to take back home, show your dad. Make him…proud.
When you rounded the corner to your street, his car was in the drive, trunk wide open. Suitcases inside. You caught him leaving as you wandered by the beat-up Toyota.
Your mom wants you in the house, he’d said, a cardboard box of files in his clutches.
You tried to ask what the fuck was going on, but he’d yelled at you and thrown the box into his back seat. And then you brought up the test paper, twisted around to fish it out of your bag, like some stupid C would convince him to stay. He yelled louder, and you disappeared inside like a spooked cat.
Your mom was on the couch, face in her hands. She lifted her head, cheeks stained with mascara and tears. As you sat down beside her, you heard the engine of his car roll away. You never saw him again.
You don’t tell Joel all of this. He doesn’t need to know, and he doesn’t ask. Telling him about the C in Math risks telling him about the way your dad looked at you when you held up the crumpled paper, and that risks telling him about everything you’ve ever held back from saying to anyone, for fear of seeing that same bored, disappointed expression.
It feels like a hand you’re not quite ready to play just yet. An ace or two missing, only a couple of cards off of feeling confident enough to show him.
Instead, you shrug, and say, “That was…thirteen years ago now. And we just never take ‘em off. It’s like our little promise to, like…stay together, or whatever.”
He nods, letting the necklace rest back on your naked chest.
There’s something in the air between you. Quiet, unassuming. An understanding, though you’re not sure what of. But it feels comfortable, which you weren’t expecting when he asked the question. Nobody knows much about you and your dad – not even your closest friends. And here you are, naked and exhausted, letting the words tumble out to none other than your boss.
But he’s so blasé about it, so unperturbed by it that, if he hadn’t been the one to ask himself, you could mistake it for disinterest. He just listens, nods, and lets it pass over. Lets you drop it, when you’re done talking about it.
For the second time tonight, this time a little more sober but a little less guarded, you say, “Kiss me.”
And this time, he doesn’t ask you to speak French. Doesn’t make any witty quip, doesn’t warn you you’re walking dangerous territory. Doesn’t even hesitate, not for a beat. Just leans in, cups your cheek with one hand, and presses his lips to yours.
Warm, sweaty, almost quivering lips. Soft, and kind, and safe. You melt into him, wrapping both hands around his wrist, shutting your eyes and pretending just for a moment that you’re not teetering along a knife edge right now.
You pull back, losing your balance on the tightrope you’re walking, and Joel’s hand slowly drops from your face. His eyes ask if you’re okay, and you nod. I’m fine. This is fine.
“Alright,” he says, sitting up with a sigh. “You want a drink?”
You nod again. “Water, please.”
He strokes your thigh once and walks out of the room, leaving you in the quiet dark by yourself.
You bring your fingertips up to your eyes. Exhale deeply into the palms of your hands. Think about what just happened, and then tell yourself not to think much about it. Think about that fucking twinge in the bottom of your stomach, the one that felt like…yearning. And then tell yourself, fucking – order yourself not to read too much into it, or you’ll drive yourself up the wall.
Because the truth of it is: you’ve one more full day in Paris, and you highly suspect that what happened here tonight, is gonna happen all over again tomorrow. And that leaves room for that yearning feeling to come back. Resurface, like a silent predator in murky waters.
That won’t happen tomorrow. It can’t happen tomorrow.
You stand and throw that white terrycloth robe over yourself, heading for the living room.
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@serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @noisynightmarepoetry @@isimpforfictionalmen @lizzie-cakes @sarahhxx03 @tobuildahomeinthewoods @kittenlittle24 @suzmagine @adaslittleblog @bbyanarchist @whatsliferightnow @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @totallynotastanacc @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana
(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)
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lovverletters · 10 months
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Yandere! Fictional Character
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Note that this is a reupload from my previous blog @hyerinrose
T/W : general yan stuff, murder (can ai murdering another ai's count as one?), yan knows your search history, he stares at you a lot, might add more later
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💌Yandere! Fictional Character who were from a visual novel you lended from your friend who hasn't be able to stop raving about it.
💌Yandere! Fictional Character who were a popular pick of the fandom. So, you decided to choose his route for your first playthrough and now you understood why he's the golden boy of the franchise.
💌Yandere! Fictional Character who were your comfort/favourite character due to them maybe sharing similarities with you in their personality, background or you just find them attractive. I do not judge thee for i am the same.
💌Yandere! Fictional Character who were aware of his existence as nothing more than a capture target. Though, he didn't mind it as he was loving all the attention and love he is showered by the players.
💌Yandere! Fictional Character who thought you were like the rest until he sees you genuinely enjoying every interaction with him and reading his dialogues intently as if he is a real person. As if you truly care about him.. he can feels his artificial heart beating at the thought.
💌Yandere! Fictional Character who eventually grow fonds of you the more time passes. Unknowingly for him, you were nearing the end of his route and were about to achieve his ending.
💌Yandere! Fictional Character who notices you growing distant from him. You used to login daily and interacted with him for hours but now it feels as if he was being switched out for someone else. You wouldn't do that right? You wouldn't replace him for someone else..right?
💌Yandere! Fictional Character who manage to break through his coding and observe you through your computer screen. Now, he can see your pretty face much more closer! But that's not the only thing he can do now.
💌Yandere! Fictional Character who have access to your entire computer, meaning he can roam around your search history and open the app you uses. He was heartbroken once he open his game and found out that you were romancing one of his 'friend'. We can't have that now, do we, darling.
💌Yandere! Fictional Character who the next time you open the game, something had changes. Half of the characters had been corrupted and your save files with them were wiped clean. The only one that is playable was his route.
💌 "Welcome back, [Name]! Let's spend some more time together shall we? now that I had gotten rid of the others Hmm? Nothing!"
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Text
Good Omens Fic Rec: Big Name Feelings
FANDOM AU! • Crowley is a BNF fic writer, and Aziraphale is a lurking artist who might be just a little parasocially in love with him. How they ever became friends is beyond him, but here they are: One month out from Prophet Con, and Crowley is asking him to be his boyfriend. Just for the weekend, of course.
Length: 103,997 words
AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥
Best for: Safe in Public, Human AU, Slow Burn, Fake Relationship, Pick-me-up
Triggers: None
Read it here, fic by ghostrat
*Minor Spoilers* It's here! The finale of one of the most entertaining and immersive fanworks that I have ever experienced is finally upon us! I feel like most of you who follow me here are aware of this fanfic or have read it. However, for those who haven't or might come across this post later: I'm begging you to read this one. Buckle up; it's a long post today.
So, if you're not aware, this fanfic involves writer Crowley and fan artist Aziraphale. Crowley, being ace, seeks a boyfriend to shield him from unwanted attention during an upcoming convention. Aziraphale, smitten, agrees to be the fake boyfriend. This Arrangement is sure to work out exactly as planned!
Every one of the author's stories feels cinematic to me. The worlds are always so real and immersive, but this one, in particular, will have you feeling like you're actually watching the story unfold in real life. Some of that is achieved through embedded media like chats, artwork, and Tumblr posts, bringing a sense of reality to these conversations. The rest comes from really rich prose. You'll flow through it very easily, yet deeply.
The use of fandom and a convention as the backdrop for this fic was, to be honest, genius. I've seen attempts before, but none captured the spirit quite like this one. The fandom lore for The Nice and Accurate Prophecy (the in-universe fandom they're in) was rich enough for us to fully grasp the shape and feel of why they loved it so much, yet it never impedes the ongoing story. This story perfectly captured what it's like to be a fan: how friendships develop, how ideas and fan theories are freely discussed, the passion for a shared topic. The con, in particular, will fill anyone who has ever attended a fan convention with a strong dose of nostalgia and love. Oh, and having them in their 50s? Thank you! There is no age limit to fandom!
Having Aziraphale as the artist and Crowley the writer was not the most obvious choice, but it's one that worked amazingly well for the story! Crowley struggles with words and expressing his feelings in real life. However, in stories, he can build his own world and express whatever emotions are on his mind. Aziraphale, who does not wish to draw attention to himself in real life, expresses himself through his bold and beautiful artwork. His specialization in traditional, physical artwork is so fitting for him, though he's not unwilling to try new tech. There is a scene where they stumble upon some street art that Aziraphale had done. I teared up at that scene, and it's not even angsty! Just the casualness of it, how it's not Aziraphale but Crowley who boldly leads them to it, how Aziraphale doesn't sing his own praises. He's not self-deprecating, but he doesn't celebrate his work. He's still learning that he has value that's worth celebrating. At least now he has Crowley to teach him to be proud of himself.
They are both beautifully written characters. It's a real testament to the skill of the author to bring these characters into such a different reality and have them be unmistakably Aziraphale and Crowley. Sure, they're updated for the time and setting, but their souls are still the angel and demon we know and love. This setting is an amazing way to explore the different sides of their personalities. Crowley's asexuality, in particular, was one of the best depictions I've ever read. It brought a new level of understanding to me, and I'm sure many of you will feel a kinship with him. Really pay attention to what's being said here, there's some really deep and insightful passages that are worth analyzing. Like this moment, which may have been a subconscious thought, but again speaks to how deeply the author understands the characters.
This was such an amazing experience as a fan. I've never had a fic feel like this much of an event before. Every chapter drop was so exciting; I never knew what exactly to expect. And now, with the end being over 100k words?? Where did that word count come from! That's insane! I'm sad to leave this iteration, but I'm so excited for what's to come next. So please, if you haven't read this, give it a try. It's such a impressive work, so much time and effort was put into this and you can tell. It's not only a love letter to Good Omens, but one to fandom and fanspaces as well. Thank you, thank you, thank you for this journey
There are some explicit scenes towards the end, but they are all marked and skippable, so I'd say you're perfectly fine reading this in public.
Edit from after actually seeing the finale: no I’m not tearing up it’s just really dusty in this room. I’m being so normal rn 🥹🥹🥹
Read it here, fic by ghostrat
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astraystayyh · 1 year
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MASTERLIST
all rights reserved © astraystayyh. all pieces are works of fiction and do not represent the members in real life. do not copy, translate or repost.
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OT8
╰┈➤ series.
༊*·˚ SKZ song series masterlist (completed)
༊*·˚ Winter falls | winter themed collab with @forlix (in progress)
༊*·˚ SKZ quotes series masterlist (in progress)
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ All for you- skz wedding vows | f.
༊*·˚ SKZ saying I love you for the first time | f.
╰┈➤ headcannons.
༊*·˚ SKZ as oddly specific love languages | f.
༊*·˚ Mundane activities you'd enjoy with SKZ | f.
༊*·˚ SKZ when you are stressed and overworked | h/c.
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bang chan.
╰┈➤ one-shots & series.
༊*·˚ Pieces of you | f. a. singledad!chris. mutual pining. neigbors!au.
⟿ In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
༊*·˚ Vanilla | a. f.
⟿ Breakup with a happy ending.
༊*·˚ Beginning of the end (part 1) | a.
⟿ You are breaking up with Chan, he just doesn't know it yet.
༊*·˚ Bittersweet (part 2) | a. f. exes to lovers.
⟿ Four years later, you are back home and everything has changed.
༊*·˚ Wait for me | a. major character death.
⟿ "I think I might see you soon, my yn. You've been waiting for me, haven't you? Just like we promised."
༊*·˚ The wedding saga | f.
The impromptu proposal.
A few hours before the wedding.
The wedding and the morning after.
༊*·˚ Myth | f. friends to lovers.
⟿ Skimming across the edge of being friends and something more with Chan is a dangerous game. Even more so when you're both sharing the same bed.
"The consequence of what you do to me, help me to name it."
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ chan is tired and you are his sun.
༊*·˚ you're sick and chan takes care of you.
༊*·˚ when you're having a bad day and chan is still proud of you.
༊*·˚ chan comforting you through a thunderstorm.
༊*·˚ chan's hugs.
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lee minho.
╰┈➤ one-shots & series.
༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 1 | f, a. academic rivals to lovers. slow burn.
⟿ Your studies have been your life line for as long as you can remember, what happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?
༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 2 | f. a. h/c.
⟿ In which Minho rewrites your entire relationship with love.
༊*·˚ Echoes of love | memory loss trope. a. h/c.
⟿ If given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.
chapter i. to forget - chapter ii. to remember
༊*·˚ The only exception | strangers to lovers. slow burn. barista!minho.
⟿ Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.
"Cause none of it was ever worth the risk, but you are the only exception."
༊*·˚ Conversations with Minho | f.
༊*·˚ A cat proposal | f.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ mine.
༊*·˚ a sun and a moon.
༊*·˚ when you used to feel lonely but not anymore with minho.
༊*·˚ minho comforts you through a storm.
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seo changbin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ The alternative | brother's best friend!changbin. f. ♡
⟿ You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.
"Love is a risk, but what's the alternative?"
༊*·˚ Burning in the winter wind | romcom vibes. (fake) enemies to lovers. f.
⟿ Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
when you're feeling sad changbin will do anything (being silly) to cheer you up.
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hwang hyunjin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ The snow falls, we fall apart | friends to lovers. roomates!au. a. f. longing and pining.
⟿ when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.
༊*·˚ Somebody else | exes to lovers. a. miscommunication. happy ending.
⟿ You and Hyunjin have broken up, guilt and blame simmering between you both. He doesn't care anymore, or so he thought. Then why does it hurt him to see you with someone else?
"Don't want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else."
༊*·˚ You're in the wind, I'm in the water (pt.1) | friends to lovers. pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw)
༊*·˚ Orange (pt.2) | f. my take on The Orange theory.
༊*·˚ Young and beautiful | f.
⟿ How you both said i love you for the first time.
༊*·˚ Snow on the beach | f. implied soulmates.
⟿ You've never said i love you to Hyunjin but you've both always known.
༊*·˚ Say yes to heaven | a. f. (pt. 1)
⟿ Seven minutes in heaven except you're heartbroken and hyunjin has a huge crush on you.
༊*·˚ Say yes to me | f. (pt. 2) ♡
⟿ After your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.
༊*·˚ When I fell in love | f.
⟿ It's your birthday and Hyunjin has a surprise gift for you- all the moments he fell in love with you in.
༊*·˚ You and I | a. happy ending.
⟿ In which you wrongly lash out at Hyunjin and have to mend it back. Human character who makes mistakes and apologizes for them.
༊*·˚ Conversations with Hyunjin | f.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ serenity.
༊*·˚ mornings with hyunjin.
༊*·˚ nights with hyunjin.
༊*·˚ hyunjin and touch starved reader.
༊*·˚ you've had a nightmare and Hyunjin sings you to sleep while it's raining.
༊*·˚ in which you're in love with hyunjin and you're both swimming in a lake.
༊*·˚ hyunjin with glasses and a tiny ponytail brainrot.
༊*·˚ hyunjin is your friend except you're making out in his car backseat.
༊*·˚ your reaction to hyunjin's new burgundy hair.
༊*·˚ valentine’s with hyunjin.
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han jisung.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ Volcano | Enemies to lovers. slow burn. f. a.
⟿ You've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.
"I'll take care of you. It's terrible work. Not to me, not if it's you."
༊*·˚ 5422 | a. f.
⟿ Your morning after a fight with Han.
༊*·˚ Backburner | Exes who can't move on. a.
⟿ It's been seven weeks since Han broke up with you. And yet he's still calling you, every saturday night, without fault. And even though you try not to, you still pick up each time.
"You'd think I'd be a fast learner. But guess I won't ever mind crisping up in your backburner."
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lee felix.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ If the world was ending | estranged childhood best friends to lovers. a. f.
⟿ Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old. Until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.
"If the world was ending you'd come over, right?"
༊*·˚ Scream! | f. h/c.
⟿ When you are overwhelmed by the stress of your studies, your boyfriend Felix will do anything to cheer you up.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ red lollipop.
༊*·˚ you apply lip gloss on felix but it takes an emotional turn because he's too pretty.
༊*·˚ cooking with felix.
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kim seungmin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ In my dreams | (Fake) enemies to lovers. a. h/c. slow burn. ♡
⟿ Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.
"I'm sorry that I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away."
༊*·˚ Photobooth | f.
⟿ Your first date with seungmin, except he pretends he's confident when he's just as nervous as you.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ seungmin's silent comfort.
༊*·˚ when you realize you don't have to be perfect around seungmin.
༊*·˚ enemies to lovers (for a night) with seungmin.
༊*·˚ seungmin thinks you’re the prettiest at your most ordinary.
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yang jeongin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ You're sexy I'm sexy | friends to lovers. fluff and tension.
⟿ Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.
"It could be simple as loving on each other with no strings."
༊*·˚ Please fall before I fall | best friends to lovers. mutual pining but they think it's unrequited love.
⟿ 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ jeongin when you are sad and don't know why.
༊*·˚ jeongin's duality.
1K notes · View notes
rinixo · 1 year
Text
sulfur and granite
Din Djarin/Reader | 2.7k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, Jealous Din Djarin, smut, piv sex, semi-intense consensual sex, aftercare.
On a short detour to Tattooine, you are introduced to the Marshal. Mando is definitely not jealous.
Non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi.
a/n: I imagine Mando would not know how to comfortably express feelings of jealousy/possessiveness right away, but ultimately would be respectful towards his partner's desires.
read on ao3
You weren’t sure what planet you’d choose if you had to pick your favorite, but you were fairly certain that Tattooine wouldn’t even make your top ten. You had only been there a few times, and each time you had left with an uncomfortable amount of sand in an uncomfortable amount of places. The only redeeming quality in your eyes were the brilliant binary sunsets the arid rock offered, but even then there were hundreds of other places in the galaxy where you could see those.
When Mando charted course for Tattooine, you bit your tongue. He said he needed to talk to an ‘old friend’ in some tiny, middle-of-nowhere town, and seeing as you were along for the ride, you steeled yourself for another day of brushing sand out of all of your clothing.
Mando had not given you much information, which you didn’t particularly mind. This was mainly a detour on your journey through the galaxy – some kind of favor he needed to repay or something, you surmised. His ‘old friend’ was only described as ‘The Marshal’, and you wondered what kind of law enforcement a syndicated crime planet like Tattooine could even harbor.
Mando landed the Crest on the outskirts of the city one late afternoon. You, Grogu, and your armored patron walked the short distance into the town to where a man dressed in red was waiting for you.
“Good to see you,” the man called out, moving forward to grasp Mando’s arm in greeting. You hung back slightly, feeling a little out of your element when the man happened to glance past the bounty hunter and catch your gaze.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” The Marshal sauntered forward, an easy grin matching his easy gait. He was quite handsome, you decided. Nice peppery-gray hair, eyes lined with laughter. He reached out for your hand, which you gave with a quiet giggle as he brought it to his lips.
“Don’t tell me she’s one of your bounties, Mando.” The Marshal directed at the Mandalorian as he kissed the back of your hand flirtatiously. “Cause I might be tempted to play the hero and rescue her from your clutches-“
“She’s helping me on my journey,” Mando interrupted flatly. There was a wink of humor in the Marshal’s gaze as he released your hand, only to wrap one arm around your shoulder.
“Well, then, welcome,” he exclaimed. “Any friend of Mando’s is a friend of mine, er…?”
You shared your name, and the man began to walk you toward what you assumed was the local cantina. It was past midday, and it looked like the building was the gathering place for most of the locals as they ended the day. Several people greeted the Marshal as he pointed out different landmarks to you, indicating that he was just as popular among his people as you would have assumed based on his appearance and looks alone.
Mando trailed along just slightly behind the two of you, Grogu tucked in his sack at his side.
“Can I buy you a drink?” The Marshal asked, motioning to the bartender. Two glasses of blue liquor were poured, and the charming man held one out to you.
“Sure,” you smiled. It had been a while since you had let yourself indulge. Even on the rare occasions you and Mando stopped someplace with alcohol, it was mainly for information or to pick up supplies to take on the go. Not to mention the fact that Mando never took off his helmet.
The Marshal – who you later found out was named Cobb Vanth – clinked his glass against yours and the two of you took healthy swigs of the slightly sour drink. Wincing, you matched the handsome man’s grin as he leaned casually against the bar.
“So tell me,” he drawled, swirling his drink In his glass. “What’s a girl like you doing hanging around a Mandalorian bounty hunter?”
You vaguely registered Mando hovering off to the side. He did not ask for a drink, nor did you think he would accept if one was even offered. You glanced over at him, wondering if you should defer to him – he had wanted to come to Freetown to speak with the Marshal, who was currently more fixated on you. On the other hand…it had been a while since you had a chance to talk to someone who wasn’t a literal child.
Turning to focus your attention on Cobb, you explained your background and talked generally about what you were doing for Mando. You left out most of the details in the interest of protecting both his and Grogu’s safety but were secretly delighted that the man did not pry for answers. Instead, he asked questions about you – where you were from, your research, your favorite parts of the galaxy you had seen thus far. He had a charming way of speaking, and a quick wit, and you found yourself losing track of time as the conversation flowed steadily into the evening.
At some point, Cobb had procured a small table for the two of you, and you perched on the edge of your seat as he explained how he had come to meet the Mandalorian. He laughed at how your jaw dropped during the tale of how Mando had flown into the mouth of a krayt dragon to blow it up from the inside. You spared another glace towards the bounty hunter, who hadn’t moved since you had entered the cantina. His helmet was fixed on you, and though you couldn’t see his eyes something told you his gaze was fixed on you. The feeling sent a slight shiver up your spine.
Seeming to notice, Cobb reached out and placed a calloused hand over your own. “It has truly been a pleasure,” he smiled. “But I better go speak to Mando before he burns a hole through both our heads.” You returned his smile and stood – albeit a little wobbly from the several drinks you had consumed over the past hour or so.
The Marshal beckoned for someone to come over, and explained that they would show you to a room you could stay in for the night. As he did so, Mando walked over, his bulk just millimeters from your back. You opened your mouth to greet him, but he just handed you Grogu in his sack and asked that you take the now-sleeping baby with you.
“Of course,” you said, gently taking the child into your arms. “See you later?”
Mando did not answer you and instead took your seat across from Cobb. The Marshal wished you a good night, and you followed the young woman he had procured to show you to your room.
--
An hour later, you were freshly bathed and had changed into a clean set of clothes. The room was decently sized, if not a bit dusty from lack of use. It held one large bed along with several chairs and a small table and was attached to a small side room that had a smaller bed. You had tucked Grogu into the smaller bed in the side room, closing the door gently so that you could prepare for sleep without waking him up.
You laid against the pillows and were browsing your datapad when the sound of the door sliding open signaled the arrival of Mando. You watched him clunk into the room over the top of your datapad. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, a tension in the atmosphere having followed him in. “Where’s the kid?” He asked, and you pointed to the side room. He walked over to the door and opened it slightly to peer inside. Satisfied, he gently closed it and continued to stand there in the middle of the room.
“Have a good chat?” You asked, breaking the frigid silence after it became clear he was not going to. Mando settled into a chair heavily, spreading his legs and resting his arms on those of the chair.
“Was gonna ask you the same thing,” he rasped in response, and you raised a brow in question.
“What do you mean?” You asked, tapping a nail against the side of your datapad. Mando raised one shoulder in a half-shrug.
“You two seemed to hit it off.”
“Who? Me and Cobb?” You set down your datapad and crossed your arms. “He was nice.”
You could hardly believe the scoff you heard from the man. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”
“Are you jealous?”
“…No.”
“You are,” you expanded, uncrossing your arms and swinging your legs over to hang over the side of the bed. “You’re upset that he was flirting with me, aren’t you?”
Mando was silent, and you wondered if his jaw was clenched under that helmet. You looked at him expectantly, and he sighed.
“I’m not upset,” you tried to clarify. “I think that’s just how he is. It’s ok to be jealous, Mando.”
“I am not jealous,” he grit out, and you tried to hide a smirk. Standing, you swayed over to stand in front of him. You were wearing an old oversized tunic that came just above your knees, and not much else. You stepped in between his spread thighs, your bare legs bumping against his armor. Even sitting, his head was nearly level with your own. Were you pushing it, standing naked from the waist down in between the legs of a dangerous and definitely jealous man? Perhaps.
“Then why were you staring at us the whole time?” You teased. “Mad that your friend was talking to me and not you?”
“I was waiting for him to make a move,” Mando interrupted. “To touch you.”
“Yeah?” You queried, and in a burst of bravery, you sat lightly on one of his broad thighs. You felt him tense underneath you, even through the armor, and resettle his weight back In the chair to support you more firmly. “What was your plan if he had made a move?”
One of his gloved hands came to rest on your bare thigh, and he slowly pulled it towards him, forcing your legs to spread slightly. His hand rubbed soft circles into your flesh, and you shifted so that your back was supported against the side of the chair.
“Hauling you over my shoulder and back into my ship,” Mando husked, hand venturing further up your thigh, under the hem of the long tunic. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed lightly over your bare cunt. “And reminding you.”
One of his fingers ran up and down your slit, and you shifted again, trying to get him to put more pressure where you wanted it. “Remind me of what?” You asked breathlessly. Mando’s other hand crept up your back to grip your neck, forcing you to arch in his lap. He stood, hauling you up against him with ease. He half-dragged you over to the bed, sitting down so that he could pull you up against his back into his lap.
“This,” he said simply, spreading your thighs wider and grinding his hips up into your backside. You could feel him, hot and hard under his flight suit, and you let out a low moan at the sensation. One hand roamed over your shaking thighs, playing with the slick gathering between your legs, while the other came up to cross against your chest, holding you tightly against him.
“I was thinking,” Mando continued, sounding almost casual in his tone and timbre, “Of how to show you what you’d be missing. How to show other men that you spend your nights in my bed.”
You licked your lips, feeling air-light as he rasped through the modulator into your ear. His fingers between your legs alternated from pinching your swollen clit to probing your entrance.
“That’s what I was thinking,” he said lowly. “What were you thinking, wicked girl?”
“I’m thinking you should just fuck me already,” you gasped out, and Mando laughed. It echoed through your blank mind like smoke, and your eyes fluttered closed as two of his thick fingers slid tightly inside of you, thumb pressing against your clit. Your hips bucked at the sensation, only to be held tight in his iron grip.
“Can you be quiet?” Mando asked throatily, and you could feel the rumble of it from his chest. “The kid is sleeping…and who knows who else might be listening?”
“I thought you wanted them to know,” you whimpered, and his grip on you loosened for a millisecond before he stood and flipped you face-first onto the bed. The back of your tunic was pushed up as he pushed your shoulders down to the mattress, and dragged your hips up toward where he stood behind you.
“Keep quiet,” he gruffed out, and you heard the familiar sound of his belt coming undone and felt his bare hips warm against your ass. “You only cry for me, understand?”
“Y-ye-“ you barely had a chance to respond before he shoved his throbbing cock into you, punching the air out of your lungs in one solid thrust. Keening, you let your head fall against your arms as Mando gripped your hips firmly and began a steady, brutal pace.
He spread your thighs as wide as they would go so that you could take all of him in with every thrust. Something about his hands on your hips and the way he moved you felt necessary – deep, intense thrusts that would resist anything except acceptance from him. The bed creaked from his weight against your body, along with the rich sound of his hips slapping against yours.
The superiority of this angle made you focus on the place where he filled you like it was the center of your universe. You bit into the flesh of your arm in an attempt to silence the keening cries that wanted to escape from your throat. Mando groaned above you, and his pace quickened.
“This what you wanted?” he husked lowly. “To come on my cock? Come on, wicked girl, come on-“
You choked out a wordless plea as his weight came down across your thighs, and his cock rammed as far as it could go. You knew you would feel the ache of him inside of you for days.
“M-mando-“ you keened again, and you felt his grip on your hips clench harder.
“Gotta be quiet,” he rasped. “Want them to hear how you’re spread open for my cock?” You could feel your orgasm approaching like a ship preparing to exit hyperspace. You were sure nothing in your life would ever feel as good, as full, as right as the heavy weight of his cock inside of you.
The frantic clutch of your cunt wrung from Mando his own release. He all but collapsed onto you, wrapping you up so that you disappeared into his embrace. You came with a muffled scream, your leg going numb from the release of tension and the weight of the man fucking his semen into you.
Not allowing you reprieve, Mando groaned and collapsed onto his side, rolling you so that you were pressed up against him. His iron-hard cock was still inside of you, throbbing its release, and his hand came down between your legs to tweak at your clit. “Again,” he demanded, and you threw your head back and hit it against his helmet. He shoved the fingers of his other hand into your mouth to silence your cries as you came again, obediently, at the clumsy push of his fingers against your sore cunt.
Your body jerked against him, twitching from the edge of overstimulation. His cock, still streaming cum, slid out of you, pulsing the last of his release over your flushed entrance. For a while, all that could be heard was the sound of your breaths easing back from near hyperventilation. Mando’s grip on you was still possessive, but he shushed you gently and murmured praise into the back of your neck, hands circling your skin to ground your consciousness back down to him.
After that, Mando gently slid from behind you and lifted you into his arms. Your legs still shook from the onslaught, and he carried you quietly to the refresher where he helped you wipe yourself clean.
“All right?” He murmured as he brought a soft cloth to your inner thighs. You smiled sleepily and leaned your head forward to lay against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the cold metal.
“If that wasn’t you being jealous,” you whispered, “Maybe next time I should flirt back.”
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meggletoomanyfandoms · 3 months
Text
Valentines Day!
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(Not my gif!)
Alastor x Fem!Reader
Summary- Valentines Day is coming up and Charlie has decided to incorporate the holiday and use it to create an exercise to bring the hotel staff and residents closer together!
Word count- 1,625
TW- None really. Alastor fluff, super sweet!
Not proofread, there may be some spelling/grammar mistakes!
Author's Note- This might just be the sweetest thing I've written in forever! I can't wait to write more for Alastor, as I had so much fun writing this one! I am also taking requests, feel free to send one in!
“Alright everyone! So for today’s lesson, I thought it would be fun if we did something for Valentine's Day!” Charlie excitedly said, clapping her hands together with a big smile on her face, “This could be great to strengthen our bonds and help us get to know each other better!” You looked around the room and could see the other’s weren’t too happy about this, especially Angel.
“Look, do we really gotta do this?” he asked, rolling his eyes, “Noone hardly even celebrates that holiday here.” 
“True that may be, I still think this would be a great lesson and exercise for us all!” Charlie grinned, “Okay, so what I was thinking is we draw names from this bowl and whoever you get is the one you have to make a valentine for and deliver them at the end of the day!” 
“And what are we supposed to be making?” Husk shook his head, “I gotta agree with Angel on this one, I think this is stupid…” You looked at Charlie who now had pleading eyes.
“Oh come now, this should definitely prove interesting,” Alastor said, his wide grin unfaltering. 
“Uhm.. I think this could actually be fun..” Charlie grinned and grabbed you into a big hug.
“Oh thank you, thank you!” she let you go and stuck the bowl with the names written on folded pieces of paper in it, “Here y/n, you can pick first!” 
You gulped but then stuck your hand in the bowl and grabbed one of the small sheets of paper, “Alrighty now, don’t tell us who it is! Simply make them a gift and give it to them!”
“What's the point of doing this if we’re not going to be sharing it with the rest of the group?” Angel asked as Charlie passed the bowl on, now holding it out in front of him. 
“I was thinking that we are always doing group activities so I thought that maybe this time we could do something sort of one on one! And if you’d all like, we can always share it with each other later!” 
You waited until Charlie finished passing the bowl around and everyone went to draw names., “Now everyone, see who you got!” she excitedly said as she unfolded the small piece of paper in her hands. With a racing heart, you followed suit and did the same. When you read the name on the small piece of paper your eyes instantly widened and your heart began racing.
Alastor. 
You immediately looked up to find a certain radio demon eyeing you and grinning, and after a few seconds he turned and made his way out the door. Around you you could hear a few sighs coming from the others but your thoughts drowned them out. What were you supposed to make for Alastor?You hadn’t really even spoken to the demon since you’d started staying here a few weeks ago; he really kept his distance from you and you from him. In all honesty, he kind of frightened you a bit as everything about him was so mysterious.
Sighing you made your way upstairs and into your room. You started rummaging through what few things you had in your drawer, hoping for any sort of idea to pop into your head but… Nothing. Not a damn thing. You rubbed your hands over your face and sighed once again until something at the bottom of your drawer caught your eye.
Red ribbon? You thought for a moment and grabbed it, an idea immediately popping into your mind. It won’t be anything big but it’s the best you’ve got…
--------- 
Putting the last few finishing touches on his Alastor’s gift, you felt kind of proud of yourself for making his gift. You managed to find a small box to put it in and now you just had to deliver it. Feeling suddenly nervous, you held the small box tightly in your hands as you made his way to his room. You stopped in front of his door and took a deep breath, then knockers slowly on his door.
“Come in, come in!” he said, static clinging to his voice. You did as he said and slowly opened his door to find him sitting at his table in his, er, swamp that connected to his bedroom? Yep, definitely mysterious…
“Oh my dear!” he said, standing up and making his way over to you, “yes I thought it was you got my name from the bowl!” You nodded.
“I did,” you said, “And I uhm, made you a gift but Alastor it’s not the greatest thing-” before you could finish speaking he simply shushed you.
“Now now, dear girl! I’m sure whatever you’ve made is marvelous indeed!” he held out his hands, “May I see it?” You handed the small box over to him and watched as he lifted the lid and tossed it to the floor. His smile didn't change a bit as he pulled the bright red bow out of the box and inspected it.
“I thought that maybe you'd like to put on your uhm, microphone thing? To uhh.. Liven it up a bit?” you felt your cheeks heating up instantly as you spoke aloud, what an awful gift! You could have made him literally anything else,  but this is what you came up with? 
“Thank you!” he said, sticking the ribbon onto his cane, just below the microphone, “this was a well thought out gift indeed!” You were surprised and were going to question him when he spoke again.
“For your gift my dear, we’ll have to take the long road if that is alright with you!” You shook your head.
“Uhm, Alastor I think you’re supposed to give a gift to the person whose name you drawn, not me-”
“Well whose name do you think I drew?” he said, reaching into his pocket and handing you a small white sheet of paper. Your eyes widened when you saw your own name written on the paper. He held out his arm to you, “Would you please accompany me?” You hesitated but finally took his arm and followed where he led you. 
His radio tower. You’d never been in there before- actually, you don’t think anyone except Alastor himself had been. “My gift is up here?” you asked him. He nodded his head and pointed to a seat, “Won’t you please sit, my dear?” Hesitantly, you did as he asked and sat in the chair. You watched as he took a seat at his desk and began speaking into his microphone. 
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, still grinning from ear to ear, “For tonight’s broadcast, I do have something special planned indeed..” You watched as he spoke and then, like it was absolutely nothing a.. Piano materialized in the room? Instead of him sitting at a desk he was now sitting in front of the instrument. 
“Yes yes, usually my broadcast’s are a bit more.. Different from the one I have planned for tonight, but ah, it is almost Valentine’s Day indeed so I thought to myself, tonight and tonight only, my dear listeners, I shall sing you a song,” he said, making sure to look directly at you with the last thing he said. It was then that he started playing the piano and you watched as his fingers effortlessly flew across the keys and then he began singing..
You instantly recognized the song, ‘La Vie En Rose’ and you were, well, most definitely caught off guard but also you were amazed. He had the sweetest singing voice and, since when did he know how to play the piano? The Alastor you knew was a ruthless soul whose only goal you thought was making deals and stealing other’s souls, but this? Maybe you really didn’t know Alastor, perhaps there was so much more to him then you had realized. 
He finished up the song and piano de-materialized and his desk reappeared, he continued on with his broadcast and you sat by him until he was finished. 
“And with that, dearest listeners, I shall bid you goodnight until next time..” he said, finishing his broadcast and then turning to look at you, still grinning from ear to ear. 
“I do hope you liked your gift, my dear,” he said to you, “Perhaps it wasn’t what you had in mind but I do hope you still enjoyed it.”
“Alastor, since when could you sing like that? And play piano?” you questioned, “Oh! Yes I did enjoy it, so much.. Nobody has ever done something like that for me.” 
“Ah my dear, there is so much that you don’t know about me,” he said, taking your hand and then kissing the top of it. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up as he did so, “Shall we go back to the others now?” You nodded your head.
“Uhm, y-yes Alastor,” you agreed, following him out of the radio tower and back down to the hotel to meet up with the others. 
BONUS:
In the hotel a radio sits upon Husks bar and is playing a certain radio demons podcast, with everyone gathered around it and listening intently. 
“Is that..?” Charlie questioned, turning one of the dials to turn up the volume. 
“Didn’t know the guy could sing, “Angel said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Who woulda guessed..” Husk rolled his eyes, taking a cloth and wiping out one of his glasses. 
“I seriously can’t believe it,” Vaggie said, turning to Charlie whose eyes were now tearing up, “Charlie?” 
“He has the most beautiful voice,” she said, now crying. Vaggie rolled her eyes but took her girlfriend into a hug, patting her back to calm her.
241 notes · View notes
captainpricelover · 10 months
Text
In the car, really?
Captain price x f!reader
Wordcount- 0.8k
Warnings: Smut!! Car sex, Public sex, P in V sex, Breeding kink, possessive!Price. Price missed you after a long mission and shows you that in his own special way.
Names used: Honey, Hun, Baby.
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After an extended mission, you pick your boyfriend up from the airport. It's the middle of the night and no one else is around. It's raining heavily and you're playing your favourite Lana del Rey song through the Bluetooth speaker.
Prices smile at you as opens the driver-side door, he leans over and presses the release button on your seatbelt before lifting you into his arms and pulling you out of his car while practically squeezing you to death.
“Missed’cha, honey,”
 John states while planting small kisses all over your face, his overgrown mutton chops scratch your face while he does. You make a mental note to tell him to trim them later. You wrap your arms around his neck as you pull in him closer
“I missed you too baby!”
The parking lot near the base is empty and dark, the only light coming from the moon and inside your car. You and Price share a long-awaited romantic moment as the raindrops fall around the two. He places his bonnie hat on top of your head as he breaks the kiss. The hat smells of Price; cigars, gunpowder and whiskey with a hint of some expensive cologne.
He smiles as he sits down in the driver's seat “Let's go home,” 
“You’re tired, let me drive,” You say while attempting to stop him from getting in
“No, it's fine really. To be honest darling your driving stresses me out,”
“Aren’t you a charmer,” 
Laughter erupts from the both of you. Price pulls you into his lap as he finally sits down.
“I missed that laugh,” 
He sighs, Price never talks about his missions but you could tell that they affect him. The rain starts hammering on the roof of the car.  
“Let me show you how much I missed you,”
 Price's hands start to explore your entire body. His fingers play with the hem of your skirt as he thrusts his hips only to discover 
“No knickers, huh?” 
“Was meant to be a surprise for later”
“Well I am very surprised baby, but your cunt is soaking my work trousers,”
“We’re going to fuck in the car aren't we?”
“You read my fucking mind, hun!” 
With that, your skirt is flipped over, with your ass out for anyone to see. His fingers grip the flesh as he humps his clothed cock on your wet pussy. You move your hand down his torso past his chiselled abdomen and to the large tent in his trousers. He flinches as soon as your fingertips make contact.
“Fuck, I need you, baby, haven’t fucking touched myself in weeks.”
“I need you too, missed your cock inside me,” 
Price’s zipper gets undone in one quick movement. Your hand quickly pulls his manhood out of his boxers before moving up and down his shaft. He lets out some small groans as his head flings back, hitting the headrest of the seat. The fingers that press into your ass push you back slightly as John aligns his cock with your entrance. He might have pushed you back slightly too fast as your ass makes contact with the centre of the steering wheel causing a loud honking sound to echo throughout the parking lot. A roar of laughter escapes Price’s lips before being shortly followed by your own giggling. His manhood enters you as he pulls you in closer, away from the wheel. A moan exits your lips stopping your chuckling. You bite your lip in an attempt to quieten the noise
“Don’t, I want to hear you” 
He commands using his captain voice. So you let go of your bottom lip because of course, you got to follow his orders. You move your hips up and down, slowly grinding yourself against his cock. One of your hands moves up to secure his bonnie hat on your head while the other wraps place itself over Price’s shoulder. His movements speed up as more low groans escape his lips.
“Missed you, John. The house is so empty without you” You manage to say in between moans.
“Gonna knock you up, so you ain’t lonely anymore,” 
“I was thinking of a dog, but that could work too,” You joke but it flys over his head
“Fill your cunt with my cum. You wanna be filled huh?”
His thrust gets faster. He is actually going to go through with this. You're getting close. He squeezes you tighter as he becomes rougher. You let go of his hat and wrap your arms around his neck as you get closer to your orgasm. The movements of your hips become in sync with his thrusts. All of a sudden you feel a bite on your neck, it’s John, he only does this when he's feeling possessive which turns you on even more. 
“I’m going to cum!” You practically scream
“Cum for me, honey,” 
And with that, you unravel. Your whole body shakes as you reach your high. Your cunt squeezes around his cock which causes him to finish as well. His cock shoots hot cum inside you before he slowly pulls out. 
“I love you, honey.”
“I love you too, John,” You smile as you look in his eye. You can make a shape that's reflected in his pupils. It's a car. You snap your head around only to see a man with a skull face staring back at you.
605 notes · View notes
semisgroupie · 3 months
Text
ALWAYS YOURS, ALWAYS MINE
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toxic ex!semi eita x fem. reader
wc: 4.7 (I don’t know what got into me)
warnings: yandere, stalking, VERY toxic behavior, unprotected sex, creampie, dubcon, manipulation, biting, noncon recording, noncon filming, possessiveness, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), drugging, aphrodisiac use, fingering (f!receiving), semi is very delusional (but so hot), snowballing, cum eating
synopsis: you just need to get it through your head, you’ll never get rid of him
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Dating Semi might have been the biggest mistake of your life. You can only say that now because when you first got together, everything seemed perfect.
It really was the perfect relationship by your definition. He paid attention to every single thing you liked, remembered important dates that you told him, showered you with more than enough love and affection. Maybe all of that was what made you blind to what his true nature was. Maybe you were mystified by the idea of dating a famous rock star. He took you to his private studio sessions and let you in on the secret process of making his music. Even dedicated and wrote a few lines in a song that were for you. That was what really reeled you in.
But like a fish caught on a hook, you were roughly yanked to the surface. Forced to face the reality of the situation you were in.
After six months of dating it was like a flip was switched. The sweet and kind man you knew was no longer there. Everything felt cold whenever he was around, like he was a walking snowstorm blowing in your direction. Whenever you planned out dates with him, he somehow always ‘forgot’ or something always came up last minute that pulled him away. His kisses weren’t a frequent occurrence and the pet names he gave you were never used. Whenever you spoke about your day or just wanted to make small conversation, he just brushed it off and seemed completely uninterested in whatever you wanted to talk about. It hurt you but somehow you found the strength to continue to push through it.
You finally reached your last straw on your one year anniversary. You had called the restaurant two months in advance to make a reservation and Semi was aware of your plan. He even gave you the name of the restaurant and was even in the same room as you when you made the call. When the night finally came, you waited in the restaurant alone for an hour and a half. Every call you made to him went straight to voicemail, every text was left unread and you were frustrated and completely embarrassed. After a few more minutes passed, you went back to the apartment you shared with him, then about thirty minutes later, he came home and reeked of alcohol. Seeing him in that state made you extremely furious.
“Baby,” he slurred as he wobbled towards you, “what’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?” He opened his arms to pull you in and you pushed him away, the anger and frustration from everything that has happened in the last few months boiled to the surface. “What do you think? I bet you don’t even know what day it is.” You were met with a confused look on his face. “It’s our fucking anniversary. I was at the restaurant alone for almost two hours, do you know how humiliating that was? And now you’re here, completely drunk. I’m done, I’m done with this, I’m done with the coldness from you, if I’m going to be alone in this relationship then I might as well be single. It’s over.”
Your words quickly sobered him up and as you moved away from him he reached over to grab your wrist. “You can’t leave, I love you, we love each other. Just give me another chance and I’ll make it up to you.” You pulled your hand from his grip and shook your head, “I gave you chance after chance and all you did was fuck up again and again. I can’t keep doing this. I’m going to pack a bag and then later on in the week I’ll pick up the rest of my things. Maybe you can be useful for once and move whatever I leave behind in some bags or boxes.”
He followed you to your shared bedroom and watched you pack your things in shock. He definitely wouldn’t win the award for boyfriend of the year but he didn’t treat you that badly, or so he thought. He tried to convince you to not leave, making more empty promises to try to make you stay but you didn’t bother to listen to any of it. As you shoved whatever else could fit in the duffel bag, he made his way over to you and placed his hand over one of yours. “You’ll change your mind about this. You’ll realize that no one could treat you and love you the way I do. You’ll see it for yourself soon enough.” You looked into his eyes as he spoke and you saw something dark swirling in them. You pulled your hand away from him and adjusted the bag over your shoulder. “Have a good life, Eita.”
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It had been three months since you ended things with Semi. The first month was difficult to get through but after a lot of tears and snacks, you were able to push through everything. You blocked his number and blocked him on all social media you had him on and he became a thought of the past. There were still moments where you thought about him and the good moments but you didn’t dwell on those thoughts for too long. It would just sink you back into the abyss you worked so hard to climb out of.
Other things in your life got better. You got a promotion and a raise at work, it gave you more responsibilities but you were thankful that it was able to keep your mind busy. You were able to go out and have some more girls nights with your friends. But most importantly, you started to gain more confidence in yourself and after a lot of convincing from your closest friend, you started to put yourself out there. You recently made a dating profile and spent the first night scrolling through and swiping through the profiles.
You got a lot of creeps and weirdos but then you met someone interesting. After a few days of talking to him, you decided to set up a date for some drinks and dinner. You were looking forward to it but you were also extremely nervous. It was the first date you’ve been on since ending things with Semi.
Only if you knew that he’d make a surprise appearance.
You planned to meet at a local restaurant and you slipped on a dress that hugged your curves and put on some heels. You walked through the front door and made your way over to the hostess. “Hello, I have a reservation for two under the name ‘Tobio Kageyama’.” She looked through the names and nodded, “I’ll lead you to your table now, I have to say, he is very handsome.” You smoothed out your dress and followed behind her, looking around as your heels clicked and clacked along the floor. Your nerves started shooting through the roof as you got closer to the table and saw a mess of ashy blonde hair.
From all the pictures you saw, Tobio had jet black hair. But as you got closer you recognized who it was. You approached the table and the mystery man stood, “you look absolutely beautiful, come sit.” You were in complete shock to see Semi there in Tobio’s place. How the hell could he have known that you were going to be here with another man? He placed a gentle hand on your wrist and helped move you along to the empty seat and helped you sit down. Your mind was racing as he sat back down and the hostess left. “I already ordered some drinks, I got your favorite.”
You grabbed the glass of water that was already placed there and downed its contents. You couldn’t believe he was here. You didn’t even tell any of your friends about this date, it was just between you and Tobio. “You look nervous, my love. What’s wrong? Aren’t you surprised to see me? I would’ve expected at least a smile or something different than just a look of fear.” You shook your head and set the glass down, “how did you find out about my date tonight, Eita? What happened to Tobio?”
Your questions just received laughter in response. You started to grow more irritated by the second. “Eita. Answer my questions.” He combed his fingers through his hair and leaned back against his chair. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you walked out on me, my love. I just had to take some extra measures to make sure you’d be safe and I mean come on, who else would do something like this for you? Do you know how much money I had to pay someone to give me access to your phone and all your social media profiles? And do you know how nervous I was when I saw you made a dating profile? You can’t just go out and meet strangers you’ve spoken to online, what if you met some creep?”
You were taken aback by his words and scoffed, “the only creep I’ve seen lately is you. I didn’t walk out on you, I broke up with you. You’re insane.” You put your hands on the table to stand and he quickly moved one hand over the table to grip one of your wrists, you looked at him and saw the darkness swirling in his eyes. “What you’re going to do is sit back down and listen to what I have to say. We don’t want to make a scene in this quiet little restaurant now, right?” You chewed on your bottom lip and sat back down, pulling your wrist from his grip once you were seated. “Then speak.”
He chuckled at your harsh tone and looked over as the waiter brought over your drinks then waved them off. “What’s with the harsh tone? I would understand if I cheated on you, all I did was miss one little anniversary dinner and you want to throw everything away.” He spoke so lightly as if you were the one that was overreacting. You took a sip of your drink and narrowed your eyes at him. “It was more than just the anniversary. We didn’t go on any dates anymore, we didn’t spend time with each other, I couldn’t even talk to you about my day.” He sighed and shook his head, “enough of living in the past. Those were all mistakes I made, what do you want? Want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness? I can do that if you’d like.”
You scoffed and shook your head, you couldn’t believe him. How could he become so inconsiderate of your feelings? You stood up again and moved your hand away when he tried to reach for it, “I’m going to the restroom, maybe that’ll give you some time to become less of an ass.” He leaned back against his seat and watched as you turned the corner to where the restrooms were located. He didn’t expect you to be like that, he genuinely thought you would be happy or at least show a different emotion on your face. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little baggy, inside were two small pills and he reached in to take one of them out. “I hate that I have to do this to you but at desperate times.” He mumbled to himself and dropped the pill in your drink, he watched it fizz for a few seconds before it settled. Thankfully for him, it settled just in time because you were walking back.
Once you sat down he combed his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, we got off on the wrong foot,” your expression told him all he needed to know and he continued, “I’m really sorry for how I treated you when we were together. You were the best thing that I had and I fucked it up. I tried to reach out to you for a second chance but you blocked me and that messed with my head. I just want to take this time to try to repair things, what do you say?” He looked into your eyes as you grabbed your drink and brought it to your lips to take a few sips. You set the glass down and shrugged, “fine. I don’t even know why I’m agreeing to this but I’ll give you this one chance. But get this through your head now, this isn’t a date and this doesn’t make me forget about what you put me through. Got it?” He smiled and took a sip of his drink, “yes ma’am.”
Everything was going according to his plan.
As time passed you continued to sip at your drink but the more alcohol that filled your system, the weirder you felt. You couldn’t put your finger on it but it felt like you were put in a heater. But you continued to try to push past it, trying to ignore it as you and Semi spoke. As time passed, the feeling in your body continued to intensify, it came to the point that you could no longer ignore it. To add onto the burning there was also an ache between your thighs that was screaming to be relieved. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably and Semi raised an eyebrow, “is everything okay? You don’t look so well.”
You shook your head and took a big gulp of your water in hopes it’ll cool you off but it didn’t help. He got up and pressed his hand against your shoulder, leaning in by your ear. “Are you okay? I think we should leave.” His breath by your ear made you feel even hotter and you nodded. “Let’s go.” He helped you up and held you close to him as he laid some cash on the table then started to lead you out. “You’re in no shape to drive, I’ll drive you back.” You just nodded along as he walked, your mind could only focus on one thing and that was how good his body felt against yours.
He led you to his car and helped you into the passenger's seat and then got in the driver's seat before he started the car and started driving. You rested against the seat and couldn’t help but start to press your thighs together to try to relieve the ache that was building by the second. You were more focused on the pain that was starting to develop and you didn’t realize that he was watching you. Watching how you writhed and whimpered as you pathetically tried to relieve yourself. At the red light he turned his full attention to you and placed a hand on your knee. “You know, I can help you if you’d like. You look like you’re in so much pain, I just want to help.”
Every nerve in your body tried to scream at you, tried to get you to realize that he was the one to put you in your current predicament but lust clouded everything. You spread your legs and looked at him with such a pitiful look, “please Eita. It hurts so much.” He moved his hand up your thigh and pressed two fingers against your panty-clad pussy. You arched your back and started to grind against his fingers, it felt good but it wasn’t enough, you needed more. “Needy girl, let me move your panties to the side at least.” He laughed and hooked a finger under the soaked fabric before moving it to the side. You whined as the cold air hit your wet folds and you opened your mouth to complain about his slow movements but the complaints died in your throat as he pushed two slender fingers inside of you. The pads of his fingers were slightly calloused from his years of playing the guitar but they felt perfect against your sensitive bits. He pumped them with ease and the slick sounds of your pussy filled the car, your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath and a light sheen of sweat coated your forehead. He scissored his fingers and curled them up slightly to press against your g spot, the motion alone made your toes curl in your shoes and a sultry moan of his name left your lips. You felt wrapped in the warm embrace of bliss and you were completely caught up in it, you didn’t even realize the car had stopped until he pulled his fingers out of you.
“W-Why did you stop?” A pout was on your face and it looked like you were on the verge of tears as you turned to face him. You watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth to clean them off, watching how he moved his tongue along his slick digits before wrapping his lips around them. Watching how he groaned as your juices fell along his taste buds like the sweetest ambrosia before he pulled his fingers out of his mouth. “We’re here. You don’t expect me to fuck you in the car right? Your a classy woman and classy women don’t get fucked in the backseat like cheap whores. Now, let's go.” His tone was light but his words hit like daggers into your stomach, at this point you would’ve let him fuck you right on the filthy sidewalk if he wanted to. He got out of the car and you fixed yourself as best as you could before he opened the door and helped you out. Your legs trembled slightly as you walked through the lobby of your building to the elevator. You were practically shaking with need and he didn’t even mention a word to you. He pulled you into the elevator once the doors opened and pinned you against the wall before pressing the button to your floor.
Your mind was so clouded with lust, you didn’t even pay mind to how he knew what floor you lived on.
As the doors shut he leaned in close and kissed you roughly, his teeth and tongue mangled and fought with yours and his hands groped your body bruisingly. You moaned wantonly against his lips and moved your hands up to lightly tug on his hair. You wanted more, you needed more from him. But the elevator doors opened. He pulled away from you with an agitated huff and gripped your hand to pull you along with him. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable at this point. You felt your juices run down your thighs and you tried your best not to whine or whimper as he led you to your door. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key and quickly unlocked the door.
If you were in the right state of mind then you would’ve asked how he got a spare key to your apartment. Then he would’ve had to come up with a lie and try not to tell you that he had been keeping an eye on you since the breakup and was able to bribe your landlord into giving him an extra set of keys to your apartment. And he would have to conceal the details of the amount of times he entered your apartment while you were asleep or while you were at work. He would also have to hide the lie of how he was able to sneak in some cameras into places you never checked and how he watched you while you thought you were alone. Oftentimes with his hand wrapped around his cock and a pair of your panties pressed to his nose. But the aphrodisiac was working perfectly, if he had known it was that strong then he would’ve only slipped half into your drink (at least that would be the lie he’d tell himself to make himself feel better).
He pulled you inside with him and kicked the door shut before pinning you against it to go back to ravaging you. He bit and sucked along your lips and then moved down to your jaw and neck, nipping and sucking at the skin while you moaned and whined. His hands moved along your body, gripping whatever he could latch onto before he pulled away. “Fuck, look at you. Did you plan on doing this with Tobio? Hm? Is that why you wore such a slutty dress? Look at those fucking nipples, you didn’t even wear a bra and those soaked panties are so skimpy. I bet you wanted to get fucked by him tonight, but that’s too fucking bad, there’s only one person that gets to fuck you and that person, is me. No one gets to see you, let alone touch you like this, got it? You’re mine and mine alone. I’ll fucking kill anyone that tries to get in our way.” He spoke purely out of possessiveness and jealousy, to think that you got all dressed up for a man that wasn’t him made his blood boil. How dare you think that you could go out and date another man?
He bent down slightly and hooked his hands behind your knees before lifting you up, his cock was throbbing in his pants and he could feel the heat from your pussy pressed up against him. He walked to your bedroom in quick strides and dropped you onto your bed. He spread your legs and ripped your panties off of you and practically ripped your dress off in a hurried rush. He quickly shed his clothes and pressed his cock against your soaked pussy. “I should just deny you the pleasure from my cock. Since you think you could get fucked as good by anyone else, you don’t deserve it. But since I can see where you were so misguided, I’ll give it to you. Maybe once and for all, I’ll put it in your head that no one could make you feel like I do, no one could fuck you like I can, and most importantly, no one could love you like I do.”
He placed his hands on your inner thighs to keep your legs spread and shoved his cock into you in one fluid motion. A loud cry of his name left your lips as you trembled underneath him, your first orgasm ripping through your body as he started thrusting. But not even an orgasm could lessen the effects of the aphrodisiac, it just intensified every feeling. Your back arched off the bed as he jackhammered into you, his heavy balls slapped against the curve of your ass and the tip of his cock hit your g spot perfectly each time he bottomed out. Strands of ash blonde hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and he took his kiss swollen bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes moved along your body, capturing how your tits bounced with each movement and how your eyes grew emptier by the second. And wait, was that drool spilling from the corner of your mouth? Fuck, you were really fucked out for him.
Then the next idea struck him.
He looked over and grabbed your phone that fell on the bed with one hand and opened the camera. He pressed the record button for the video and brought the phone close to your face. “Okay my love, why don’t you do something for me? Go on and say, ‘hi Tobio’ for me.” You blinked dumbly at his command but followed, “hi Tobio.” Your words were slurred as you spoke and your empty eyes met Semi’s for the next command. “Now go on and tell Tobio what’s happening to you.” He moved the camera even closer to your face as you started to speak, “‘m getting fucked and it feels so good. Never felt this good before, I don’t want it to stop.” Your words almost made Semi cum right then and there, you sounded so sweet and so fucked out. He couldn’t wait to send the video to that idiot. “Good girl, such a good girl for me. Now, one more thing, tell him who’s fucking you this good and tell him who’s gonna fill this needy little cunt.”
His thrusts picked up in pace and you were on the verge of a second orgasm. “Eita! Eita is fucking me this good! A-and Eita is going to fill my pussy with hot, sticky cum over and over again! Only Eita!” Your words blinded him and he slammed his hips into yours as he reached his orgasm, as the thick white ropes started to fill you, your second orgasm was triggered. This time it was more intense, tears spilled from the corner of your eyes and your juices gushed out of you, coating Semi’s abs in your essence. He groaned as he continued to fill you then started to move the camera down your sweat covered body until he reached your pussy. He used his other hand to spread your pussy as he pulled out then moved the camera closer to your leaking hole, getting the perfect money shot of his cum leaking out of your spent hole. “And that is something you’ll never get to experience for yourself, consider yourself lucky and if you ever contact my girl again, I’ll rip your eyes out of your fucking skull. Now say bye bye to Tobio, my love.” He brought the camera back up to your face and you brought a hand up to wave, “bye bye Tobio.” Your voice was weak as was the rest of your body and Semi stopped the video, then unlocked your phone and sent it to the man you were supposed to be with tonight. Once it went through he deleted all the messages, blocked the contact and deleted the video. It's not like he needed to send it to himself, the camera that was on your nightstand had caught everything and it would be saved into a private folder on his laptop. Plus you really needed to change the passcode to your phone, if it had gotten into the wrong hands then they would have access to all your personal details.
He set your phone down and leaned down to kiss down your body, kissing in between your breasts and continued to move south until he was at your pussy. “Oh poor baby, this little pussy is swollen, was I too rough? Want me to kiss it better?” He cooed at you and you just nodded along, letting out a meek “mhm” before he pressed open mouth kisses to your cunt. “I’m so sorry, I won’t be so rough on her ever again, I promise.” He continued to kiss along your cunt before he stuck his tongue out and started to lick at your entrance, collecting his cum that had been leaking out. He licked and sucked for a few moments before moving back up your body. He gripped your face and pressed his thumb and fingers against your cheeks to open your mouth then he spit his cum inside. “Swallow for me, since you can’t keep it inside your pussy, I might as well give you some to eat.” You swallowed then opened your mouth for him to show that you had swallowed it, he smiled and kissed you, softer this time than before then laid down beside you.
“My sweet girl. I love you so much, you could never understand.” He pulled you close and you rested your head on his chest, the exhaustion of everything finally wearing on your body. Your eyes were heavy and half lidded. You just wanted to sleep. “You love me too, right? Say it, I want you to say that you love me.” At this point, you were so tired, you could agree to anything. “I love you Eita. I love you.” You mumbled your words before you closed your eyes completely but that was enough to fuel his delusions further. “I know you do, you were just misguided. But don’t worry, I won’t let you slip from my fingers ever again. And if you manage to do so, I’ll just reappear from the shadows, maybe I’ll slip a second aphrodisiac into your drink. That would be fun.”
You would have to face the consequences of your decisions in the morning but maybe Semi was right, maybe it was true. Maybe no one could love you as much as he did. Or maybe there was someone out there that could, you wouldn’t get to experience it. He had an invisible chain tethered to your ankle and you were stuck with him for the rest of your life.
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taglist: @punkgibsons @suyacho @tojjist @hitobaby @satmitsuplanet @litepowee @enchantedforest-network
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152 notes · View notes
ralkana · 3 months
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Fluffbruary, Day 6
February 6: tie | embarrassment | dessert
Dream of the Endless / Hob Gadling
Rated G
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It's the middle of the afternoon when his stranger shows up at the New Inn, a smile on his face, naming Hob friend. Apologizing for his absence.
"Welcome," Hob says, shoving his marking into his satchel. "Let me get you a glass of wine."
His stranger sits silently as he asks Katie for another pint and orders a glass of Malbec.
"The good one," he clarifies, and she grins.
"Got it, Robbie," she says, with a curious glance at his companion, and then they're alone again.
His friend is still watching him, that smile on his face, and Hob can't help but take a moment simply to look. He thinks about asking why they didn't meet in 1989, why he was left adrift and alone, but it doesn't matter. Not really. He's here now.
"What were you working on when I arrived?" his friend asks, his gaze shifting briefly to Hob's satchel before anchoring firmly on Hob's face once more.
"Marking," he says, and his friend's brow furrows. "Checking my students' work," he adds. "I'm a professor now! Me, can you imagine?"
And then he's off, the familiar rhythm of their past meetings suddenly returning. He talks for so long that his voice falters. There is so much to tell his friend about. X-rays and the space race, vinyl records and the internet. With a word to Katie, he switches from beer to water, and keeps going.
His friend is no more talkative about himself than usual, but he seems more engaged, less... dour. He asks questions, and is more expressive than Hob has ever seen him. Hob even thinks he tried the wine Hob chose for him, though the nearly full glass now sits on the table between them.
He is in the middle of explaining the miracle of organ transplants when his stomach growls, loud enough to be heard from across the table even in the busy pub, and he breaks off in embarrassment.
"Pardon me," he says with a laugh.
"I have kept you from your evening meal," his friend says, shifting in his seat, and Hob lunges, half-desperate, as it looks like he might rise. His friend stills, eyes widening a fraction.
"No, no! It's fine!" Hob says, lowering his hand from its aborted grasp. Please don't leave! He takes a moment to breathe, to calm himself.
"We have shared a meal before," he reasons, though of course, his friend has never eaten. He has remained while Hob has eaten, though, and that's what he's hoping for now. "We could do so again. If you'd like."
His friend nods his agreement, so quickly that Hob thinks he might not be the only one unready for the evening to end.
He orders a steak and ale pie, and when Katie asks his friend for his order and he declines, Hob asks for two forks. His friend raises an eyebrow at that, and Hob simply grins. One day, he'll find something that tempts his friend - his need to feed those he cares about is strong. Stronger still because his friend looks like he's missed a fair few meals recently.
If he even eats. Perhaps he lives on words. Heaven knows Hob has given him plenty of those.
His meal arrives, and he breaks the crust of the steaming pie, smiling as he inhales the aroma of the thick gravy that wafts out.
He has eaten a few bites in between his words when his friend shifts in his chair, reaching for the fork in front of him.
Hob watches, fascinated, as he scoops up a small bite of beef, a morsel of crust, and a tiny bit of gravy. Those petal pink lips part as he tastes it, head tilted like a bird's as he considers it.
"It is pleasingly savory," he pronounces as he sets the fork down again, and Hob grins.
"That it is, friend," he says in agreement, applying himself to his meal and his tale.
"Dessert then, Robbie?" Katie asks a few minutes later, as she brings him another glass of water and sees the remains of his meal.
Hob debates for approximately three seconds. "Yeah, go on then."
Katie laughs as she picks up his plate. "The usual?"
"Please, and two forks."
There's so much more to tell his friend about - there always is - but Hob feels mostly talked out. This is by far the longest his friend has ever lingered, and he can't ignore the ache of the knowledge that soon, their meeting must end.
Unwilling to prematurely give into the melancholy that always arrives after these evenings, Hob pushes it away and says, "The kitchen here is fantastic. In some ways, pub food is the same as it's always been, but some things are so different now..."
He's in the middle of explaining gastropubs and fusion cuisine when Katie approaches their table once more, and he breaks off.
"Ah, thanks, love," he says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as she sets down their dessert. "Butterscotch bread pudding with vanilla bean ice cream and housemade whiskey caramel sauce. It's absolutely the best thing on the menu. It's won awards."
Lifting the shot glass of caramel, he upends it, drizzling it over the pudding sizzling in its little cast iron pot. The ice cream is melting slowly into the top of the pudding, and the smell is divine.
Hob digs in and pops a bite in his mouth. It's too hot, burning his tongue, and it's absolutely worth it.
His friend picks up his fork and digs out a tiny bite to try, and Hob watches his eyes widen, his pleasure clear on his face in a way that has Hob shift in his seat. He's beautiful.
"Good, innit?"
He says nothing, but his fork dips again, lifts a larger bite this time.
Sweet tooth, then, Hob thinks. Got it.
He goes in for another bite as well, picking the thread of his words back up.
He's talking about the rise of the celebrity chef a few moments later, reaching for another bite, when his fork scrapes against iron, and he blinks and looks down. The little pot is empty, only a few drops of caramel sauce and a few smears of melted ice cream remaining. Hob has had maybe three bites.
He looks up, astonished. His friend looks back serenely, but there are spots of color, high on his pale cheeks. He sets his fork down.
Hob could not stop the smile breaking over his face for all the money in the world. His friend's lips twitch, the corner tucking into a tiny smile, and Hob notices there is the smallest drop of caramel sauce at the corner of his friend's mouth.
Hob entertains a very brief fantasy of leaning across the table and licking it off, tasting the sweetness of the caramel and his friend's perfect skin.
Clearing his throat and shoving the thought away, he sets his own fork down. They are not unfamiliar, these little moments of want that flash within him, whenever they share an evening. They are what sustain him in the long decades between their meetings.
His friend's gaze is sharp on his face, but those spots of color remain.
"I apologize for consuming your dessert."
"Our dessert, friend. Two forks, remember? I'm just glad you enjoyed it. Would you like another?"
His friend looks away, out the window long since gone dark.
"The hour grows late," he says, and Hob tries not to flinch. "And I have. Difficult work ahead of me. But. Perhaps we might meet again soon. To share this dish. Or perhaps another."
Hob's breath catches, his heart pounding. I will take you to every bakery and dessert shop in London, he thinks. England! The world!
"I would like that very much, my friend," he says.
"Dream," he says as he stands, looking down at Hob with the same smile he had when he first came in. "You may call me Dream."
"Good night, Dream, my friend," Hob says, trying not to choke on the emotion that swamps him. "I hope to see you soon."
"You shall, Hob Gadling. Good night, my friend."
Between one blink and the next, he's gone.
END
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Thanks to @fluffbruary for the prompt, and to the Morrison in Atwater Village for the best damn bread pudding I've had in my life.
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