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#mans drowning out here acting like their fucking rich or whatever
shazleen · 2 months
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today I am thinking about code switching and also wanting to gatekeep ones own class / race culture vs making my words accessible vs actually expressing my feelings the way i want to
Often because im speaking to people online who are not from the specific areas of london I am from I am like self censoring the way I respond and it’s sad !! But also it means I can be accessible AND sort of protect my local culture possibly
But also sometimes I just want to say you mans are making me crease 😭 cuz your jokers and i greatly appreciate everyone who comments on my comic 🙏🏽 thank u
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burning-fcols · 1 month
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"If you stay, I'll make us coffee." Vox being quick to interject because fuck if Alastor was thinking of leaving so quickly. "You can even watch me make it so you'll be sure I don't put anything in it. Just. Stay." - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧
「 ☆ 」 He has to get out of here.
Preferably before his old-pal turned current-enemy turned accidental-lover ( temporary as he knows this mistake will be; HAS to be ) wakes up and has the bright idea of prolonging this annoying little… accident. Yet all Alastor can manage to do is slip out of Vox’s annoyingly-warm arms, before the television demon has stirred from what was no doubt a VERY restful slumber. He had certainly exhausted himself last night, as the aching of Alastor’s marked body can attest. How insulting, bitten by the other Overlord like a scrap of meat thrown to a starving mongrel.
What’s even worse is how pleasant the sting of those bites feel settled into his skin, an animalistic part of Alastor’s brain near-preening at being marked so thoroughly by his mate.
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Standing at the side of the bed, back facing the other man— refusing to look at whatever pathetic desperation Vox is likely aiming at him ( he always was so worriedly emotional ) —he pauses in putting on his shirt ( pants already donned: tail on display and showcasing its bright underside ) an arm halfway through the sleeve, before shuffling it over his shoulders. Upper lip twitches at the missing buttons, hands hovering at having no busywork to burden themselves with.
❝ … You owe me a new shirt. ❞
Dryly breaking his silence, he sharply tugs down the garment as if trying to futilely rid it of wrinkles. Hands keep gripping the edge of his shirt, he tensely stands there. Trapped in torturous indecision, he mulls over the best way to save his cracked pride. The only reason it has yet to shatter completely is that Vox clearly is the most outwardly pitiful of the two. Hastily bargaining for Alastor to stay, he could easily leave the television to wallow in his loneliness. To drown in regret and paranoia, wondering whether he made a monumental mistake… Or Alastor could stay, and ensure that Vox KNOWS this.
Make it irrefutably clear that what transpired was a lapse of judgement— no, an act of necessity. Surely someone in business with Valentino would be aware of such things. Would easily believe such a ruse. If he runs, Vox’s imagination devises a narrative and Alastor knows better than to let others attempt to decipher his actions. Not when it MATTERS. Entertaining as theories may be, they’ve been… unflattering, as of late. Best to nip this in the bud before Vox can become even more reckless in his chasing.
God forbid anyone ever finds out about this.
❝ I expect a proper coffee. None of that pre-ground, boiled nonsense. ❞ Glancing over his shoulder at Vox, ear gives a flick as he says in as unaffected a purr he can muster, ❝ I trust you remember what I taught you? Or have you gone so long swallowing swill that you've forgotten all about how to start a morning decently. ❞ If Vox even still owns the Siphon coffee maker Alastor had insisted the other buy once the deer learned of his subpar preparation methods. Let alone the whole beans Alastor used to meticulously grind for them. A less-convenient method than modern machines, but a soothing way to begin ones day. As well as ensure a rich, aromatic cup. Far more vibrant than newer methods could hope to achieve.
Truthfully, due to some of the curses of his cannibalistic form, he can't exactly taste anymore... Not unless it's richness of blood or the tenderness of flesh. But proper coffee is still a nostalgic feeling. A reminder of a life once lived, of his human past as well as the companionship he used to share with Vox. 「 ☆ 」
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sukirichi · 3 years
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acquainted
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You had no intentions of becoming acquainted with the clan your family had cut ties with, but when Naoya Zenin himself is willing to teach you a lesson and you’re determined to show him what you’re capable of, it becomes a silly game of power and dominance.
REQUEST. naoya putting reader back to her place
WARNINGS: Naoya Zenin, rough sex, orgasm denial, face fucking, slight voyeurism, degradation, slight bondage, cowgirl riding, manhandling, spanking, hate sex
WC. 5.4k+
NOTES. Because Naoya is my favorite, his fic is the only one I’ve ever edited, LOL. Even though this is requested, this is written out of self-indulgence, purely because I love Naoya and even though he’s nasty, he’s my comfort character. And freaking FINALLY I have written more for this man. I worship this King 👑
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There were so many ways this day had gone wrong. First, your shower broke. Second, the maintenance men couldn’t come until late in the afternoon, so you had to drive all the way to school looking like a half-mess. You weren’t a slob, of course, but you were beyond irritable at the thought your hair felt greasier than most.
So when an unfamiliar mop of blonde hair sat at your place, the sight of pierced ears meeting your gaze as you smiled at the young man, you had to clutch your bag tighter. No need to be harsh to anyone; you reminded yourself.
“Hi,” you greeted as politely as you could.
The young man in your seat was handsome — terribly so — feline eyes emphasized with an eyeliner, and stunning green eyes that peered up at you with utmost boredom. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you’d seen him before.
“I believe you’re in my seat.”
You expected he’d kindly take another seat since the hall was empty, but he only leaned back in your seat, brow raised with a slight smirk. “So?”
Your mouth fell agape, hands falling at your sides. Who was this guy? “What do you mean, so? Get the fuck out of my seat.”
“Women,” he rolled his eyes, “Always so tempered and dirty mouthed,” the words felt like stinging slap in your face, and he easily read through you when he snickered to himself, waving a hand in the air as if he was swatting a fly away. “I’m already sitting here, so go find someplace else. I came here first.”
“You little — who do you think you are?”
“Who do you think you are for speaking to me? Did I give you permission?”
His condescending voice made you lunge at him if not for your friend’s hand wrapping at your arm, shooting worried glances over the guy. His smirk deepened when your friend pulled away, the words mutter under her breath. “Come on, let’s go,” she tugged you away despite your protests, pushing your shoulders down to make you sit. Once out of earshot, she rolled her eyes. “I seriously hate that guy. Don’t you ever involve yourself with him.”
“Who’s that prick anyway? He acts so high and mighty like he’s some rich daddy’s son. Look, he’s totally claiming my seat as his!”
“That’s Naoya Zenin, and yeah, he is some rich daddy’s son,” she confirmed, shivering at the mere mention of his name. “He’s an absolutely big misogynist. Don’t be fooled by his pretty face — he’s the worst fuckboy to ever exist. That dick of his isn’t worth getting fucked over. He’s already made half the women in school cry and run after him like a horde of lovesick zombies,” your friend gagged with a shake of her head, “It’s terrifying, actually.”
“Fucking asshole,” you hissed under your breath, sending side glances at the corner of your eye.
That stupid guy was still in your seat, a bored expression on his handsome face, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks at every blink. He just had to be a sexist pig with that gorgeous face — no good men existed anymore. “Whatever. He’ll get a taste of his own medicine soon.”
“Whatever it is you’re planning, I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“I’m doing this for all of us,” you announced with your spine straightened. “I’m not letting a man walk like that acting like he’s got the whole world at his feet. I’ll teach him a lesson or two.”
“You do know he can sue you if you punch him right?”
“Who said I was going to punch him?” a smirk painted your lips at the same time he felt your eyes burning holes at the side of his face, your expression even more triumphant when he tilted his head to the side, eyebrow cocked at your gaze. He must’ve assumed you’d fallen for his looks judging by the satisfied smile on his face, making you laugh because it would be fun to teach him a lesson.  “No, I have a much more interesting plan in mind.”
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It turned out that Naoya wasn’t that much of a stranger.
You had his reputation to thank for — people spoke his name left and right that it was nearly impossible not to know of him. It had you wondering how you managed to live through university so long without knowing him when the name drowned you; he was a Zenin.
No wonder that name was so familiar.
The Zenin’s were a close business partner of your family, but they cut off ties with their company years ago due to them having an intolerable attitude. Clearly, it ran in the blood, and their heir manifested it so well.
Thoughts of Naoya and his stupid face were soon drowned out by expensive champagne, the golden liquid sparkling in your hands. You had to attend this dinner gala where businessmen and powerful families alike conjoined for a formal opportunity of forming connections and solidifying deals, pressuring you to be at your best behaviour lest you wanted your black card to be cut off.
You made your way through the crowd to get another one of those hors d oeuvres, opting to just sit in the corner while you watched your family plaster on big, fake smiles with even louder, faker laughter.
It was quite sad, really, that people had to do stuff like this, but who were you to complain when it was what fed you on a silver plate all the time?
For now, you just wanted to enjoy the new dress your mother had gotten you, the silk black material hugged around your curves delectably. Pearl drop earrings hung to frame the sides of your face, legs lengthened and accentuated with stiletto heels.
You felt sexy — especially when you got lingering gazes from men who were slightly older and definitely richer, though you made no move.
The last thing you wanted was to become someone’s trophy wife when you could become so much more.  Plus, only your parents had the task of befriending people and building trust with others. You were only here to help represent the name somewhat with your pretty face, not really having much of an intention to be acquainted with anyone.
You swiped another glass of fizzy alcohol from the waiter that passed by, glossy red lips pinched around the glass when a sultry voice mused at your ear, “Still can’t find a seat?”
Swirling around so fast that the contents nearly poured out the glass, you weren’t surprised to see Naoya fucking Zenin stood before you, his tall stature draped in only the finest and hand-stitched three piece suit.
He looked absolutely delectable this way, earrings glimmering under the golden chandeliers and eyes lined with kohl, the aura of elegance that perfectly concealed his less than pleasing personality excessively charming.
You were beyond appalled.
“Still can’t find a brain?” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, eyes still narrowed at Naoya’s displeased ones as you dunk your drink in one go. “What are you doing here, pig?”
“I’ll let that comment slide once — only because you look hot tonight,” his predatory gaze ran over your form, the careful pattern of him pausing at the swell of your breasts sliding to the curve of your hips heating up each inch of your skin. “And it’s Naoya for you. Naoya Zenin, the rightful heir of the Zenin Corp—”
“What’s that scent you’re wearing? Baby powder? Fitting for your cute face, actually.”
Naoya’s jaw clenched, clearly unaccustomed to people cutting off his holiness, and you had to bite down on your lip to prevent the chuckles from slipping through. “It’s Tom Ford.”
“Hmm, why am I not surprised? My horrible ex also wore the same scent. Maybe it’s a trademark for all limp losers, huh?” Naoya opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, stepping forward to grab at the space between his tie to pull him down. His face was mere centimetres away from you, close enough that his breath ghosted over your lips, the intense anger flaring through those eyes hot enough to burn you. “You act so smug and defensive, Naoya. Trying to have a big man personality to conceal a small dick?”
“I have nothing to prove to you.”
“You don’t need to prove me anything,” you glanced down at his pants with a smirk, ignoring the heat pulsing in your veins because the sight contradicted your words. There was a noticeable bulge inside those shiny black slacks, though the last thing you wanted him to see was the way your mouth watered in anticipation. “I already know what I need to know.”
“Yeah? You and your shitty girlfriends can’t stop talking about my dick?”
You shrugged sarcastically, “You know women. We’re tireless complainers.”
Naoya’s jaw ticked upon you using his words against him, his hands coming up to caress at your neck, his nails scratching behind the thick silver chain you wore.
From afar and in the eyes of others, people would’ve thought you and Naoya were simply getting a little too heated, his lips dipped to graze your ear while his slender fingers pressed a little tighter into your air pipe. Your positions could easily be mistaken for Naoya seducing you, and you supposed he was, since your body responded differently from your verbal protests.
“You should watch what you’re saying,” he warned, voice low with warning. “I could easily dump your body into a river and no one would even notice. In fact, maybe the world might even thank me for doing them a service and ridding them of a spiteful woman like you.”
“Oh, pretty boy,” you chuckled back and stood to your tippy toes. One of your hands wrapped around his neck to forcefully tilt his neck to yours, nose pressed above his collar to inhale the intoxicating masculine scent he wore. “You’re all bark and no bite. Why don’t you show me what you’re capable of? If you’re as awful as they make you out to be, maybe I’ll shiver enough to drop my panties for you.”
You didn’t miss the way Naoya’s hands gripped at your waist to pull you close, enticing you to continue with your insults because maybe Naoya liked this a lot more than he let on. Could it be his superiority complex didn’t always like submissive women, after all?
Well, it would make sense; everyone always liked a little challenge, didn’t they?
If that was what he wanted, then you’d be generous enough to grant it to him.
“Wouldn’t you like to get a chance to put me in my place, to teach me a lesson for defiling the oh-so-mighty Naoya Zenin?” you purposefully toned your voice down to a more breathy tone, your chest swelling with pride when Naoya sucked in a sharp inhale beside your ear.
God, he sounded beautiful — and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. Now, you were eager to hear what else those disgusting lips could be capable of other than degrading you.  
Pulling away from him just to bat your lashes at him, heat pooled straight into your core when Naoya’s gaze had completely darkened, dark orbs pooled with lust and anger. Only he could make such an expression look so good.
“You don’t scare me, Zenin. You’re nothing but a small boy wearing big man pants.”
For a moment, your smile widened, believing that you’d won this time around. Naoya was still breathing hard at each brush of your stomach to his now hardening erection, but then he smirked and gently pushed you away from him. “I’m not fucking you here,” he stated calmly, not even bothering to keep his voice low. “You’re a lot dumber than I thought you’d be if you really think I’m whipping my cock out during this dreadful dinner.”
“This dreadful dinner you speak of is an opportunity for people like us to establish connections. I would’ve assumed you wanted nothing more to impress others but it seems I was wrong. If you hate this event so much, why bother coming here in the first place?”
“Just had a feeling I was going to meet a little minx,” he watched you seductively, his smirk adorned with his tongue peeking out to lick his lips — in turn wetting you in places he promised to make his by the end of the night. Curse him, you chanted in your head, curse him for being so attractive. It would’ve been easier if he was ugly. “And as always, I’m right.”
You tilted a brow, slightly impressed. “So you’ve done your background check on me. That doesn’t explain why you’re still here though. Surely a woman couldn’t be enough for a reason to make a man like you go all this way?”
“You’re right, a woman would never be a good enough reason, but I wanted to put you in your place,” his eyes flickered back up to you, now twinkling with danger and something else entirely. “Bad little girls need to be a taught to a lesson.”
“So what’re you waiting for? Go ahead and show me your ways, Zenin.”
“I will,” he nodded to himself, “I’m about to,” Naoya was nothing but confident as he strode your way until his arms was locked with yours, his breath tickling your collarbones that had unknowingly exposed itself at each heated touch. “You’re not that bad for a slut. You look like one, smell like one — I bet you also feel like one.”
A dry laugh left your lips as you fisted his shirt, mirroring his smirk to show that if a match was what he looked for, then a match he’d find indeed. Only this time, you would be worse.
“Why don’t you go ahead and find out?”
Naoya, despite being an absolutely poor excuse of a human being, was somewhat redeemable for being a man of his words. Find out he did, and he wasted no time into shoving you inside his McLaren, barely able to keep his hands off you the whole way up to his penthouse.
It was a blurry mess from there.
Moans spilled from your lips while he ripped your clothes off, not bothering to apologize that he’d just ruined one of your most prized possessions, his lust-clouded haze mumbling that he’d just buy you another one.
It was the last thing you expected to hear from him, but you couldn’t protest, not when he’d angrily snapped the buttons of his shirt away, a low growl mixing with your breathy whines as he loosened his tie.
Your eyes widened at the sight, legs rubbing together as you imagined what else he could do with that pretty tie of his.
Would he tie you to his bed, fuck you stupid and call you useless? Or perhaps, you could do it?
Naoya cut off your train of thought by pushing you back to his mattress, his hands tugging at his belt before he pulled his boxers down, his thick length slapping at his abdomen. Your mouth immediately watered at the sight. You were beyond wet from nothing but your sloppy make-out sessions, but would he fit?
Just the thought of him giving you that burning stretch made your legs spread beside his sides, the sardonic laughter ripping from Naoya’s lips absolutely disgusting.
“Fucking pathetic. You’re just like everyone else; submitting to me at the sight of my cock, but that’s not true, is it? Moment you saw me, I knew you were clenching around nothing,” he gripped at your jaw to force you to look at him. You glared up at him from his bruising hold, your cheeks squished under his rough hands. “But that’s okay; wanting me is not something you should be ashamed about. Although you should be thanking me I’m even letting you near me like this.”
“I’m so honoured. Come on, Naoya, let me feel you — let me make you feel good.”
Naoya, too lost in his ego, missed the sarcasm dripping in your voice. “So eager to be my cock sleeve, huh?” he grinned, tugging at your hair to push you deeper into his mattress.  “Get on your knees. Now suck.”
He was too harsh in his pace, determined to exert his dominance over you. You could feel every ridge of his vein as he continued fucking into your mouth, his abs rippling above you. It felt like witnessing a Greek god come apart, and you took pleasure in being his ruin, prompting you to hollow your cheeks and bob your mouth up and down on his cock harder.
Naoya’s chuckles were broken and often mixed with curses of fuck, you feel so fucking good, his nails now scratching at your scalp.
Soon, Naoya stilled inside you, his hold around your head deadly to keep you in place. Tears flowed down your face as he kept thrusting inside, making sure to hit the back of your throat before his muscles tightened. Spurts of warm cum followed after that, but instead of swallowing it like you expected he’d command you to do, Naoya whipped out his cock and came all over your face, his seed shooting all over your cheeks and lips.
You took it all obediently, just enough to give him the false pretense of submissiveness that he was so willing to force from you.
While he was occupied pumping his still rock hard cock, eyes closed and massaging your scalp almost soothingly, Naoya failed to notice your hurried movements of standing from the bed, fingers looped around his tie.
A small wail resonated from him when you shoved him down onto the bed, knees locked at either sides of his waist before you tugged at the cloth wrapped around his neck. Naoya kicked his legs behind you as you tied his wrists to the bed hard enough that Naoya winced, the tie only forming tighter at each lame grapple of his.
You looked back at how he got more beautiful laid out in front of you like that, chest heaving up and down while he struggled against the restraints, face flushed with anger — no, this wasn’t anger anymore — he was furious.
“What are you doing?! Get this off me — how dare you!”
“How dare you,” you spat back, discarding your lace bra off to wipe his cum away from your face, gagging when the bitter cum left a tang on your lips. “I just got my skin appointment last week and you came on my face like that?”
Naoya kept fighting back before he realised it was a futile attempt, leaning back down onto the pillows, though that didn’t soften his heated eyes on yours. You cooed at how adorable he submitted to you, running a finger down the sides of his jaw. “Aw, don’t look so angry, baby. I’m just starting my fun,” you purred, “You should’ve known better than to mess with me, Naoya. I’m not as nice as the others. And I’ll show you just how awful I can be.”
Naoya’s breath hitched when you shimmied out of your underwear, a dark glint in your eyes as you stretched the elastic into a fake arrow until it snapped into his face.
“You fucking bitch,” he growled, turning his face away from your panties soaked with arousal. “Once I get out of here, I will ruin you.”
“Huh, yeah, sure,” you mumbled incoherently, too lost in the pleasure as you sunk down on his cock. You were right, he was fucking thick, stretching you out better than any of your toys could. Plus, he was warm and leaking with pre-cum that he slid in easily, erotic groans leaving both your mouths once he was finally seated inside you.
Naoya was growling at you to let go of him when you laughed, lifting your hips up slowly before sliding back down on him just as slow, almost as if you made love to his cock the same passionate way you did with a lover. “You do have a wonderful cock, though. I’ve never felt this good in my life,” you leaned down to lick a stripe down to his neck, allowing him to hear the needy pants you graced with him. “You feel so good, Naoya, oh. If you weren’t such an asshole, I might even fall in love with you.”
“Go faster. This is unfair!”
Naoya tried thrusting deep into you, evidently unsatisfied at this torturous pace you set, but you only gripped at his thigh in warning, your eyes no longer sweet as you glared at him.
“Nothing’s ever fair in this world, sweetheart,” you reminded him, shivering every now and then as you bounced on his cock, his length slipping past through your walls magically. “Like how such a gorgeous face and amazing dick is paired with the most disgusting personality ever. No, it’s not fair, indeed...”
You closed your eyes with your head thrown back, placing your hips flat on his pelvic bone instead, fingers rubbing at your clit while Naoya throbbed inside you, desperate for release.
The little whines you gave were nothing but mocking. You knew that Naoya suffered through this position, but did you care? Absolutely not. With Naoya’s cock stretching you full and his tip kissing your most sensitive spots, in addition to your fingers rubbing and tweaking at your clit, this was the most pleasure you’d ever gotten from sex.
You were stimulated everywhere, your other hand reached up to tug at your hardened nipples.
Your walls clenched around him, signalling him that you were close and you let out a broken moan, falling forward to gyrate your hips around his cock to push you over the edge. It wasn’t enough to get him off since you were mostly still fondling with your clit, the sounds of your moans like torture to his ears.
“No, don’t you dare cum, I swear if you—” Your orgasm washed over you comfortingly like a warm blanket. Instead of seeing white, it was like your vision cleared, the sight of the sweat that made Naoya’s hair stick to his forehead in clumps crystal clear. You prolonged your orgasm by thrusting your hips in a sickening rhythm of thrust, pause, thrust, stop ­— and by then Naoya was losing his mind.
Naoya lost control as he snapped his hips upwards inside you hard enough that you winced in pain, pushing off his dick until he’s left humping the empty air, his body drenched with perspiration. “No, no, no, fuck you! Get back here you useless slut!”
You lay beside him, giggling in post-orgasm bliss. Just to tease him, you rolled to his side to press a kiss to his cheek, laughing harder when your lips came in contact with his flushed skin.
“You’re so adorable like this,” you cupped his face tenderly, perfectly aware that Naoya had begun to growl, his wrists almost bruised from how hard he brawled against his tie. “If I didn’t hate you so much, I would’ve let you cum inside me,” you offered with a pat to his chest, moving off the bed with wobbly legs.
“Well, whatever, that was fun. I would say we both had the most sensual sex of our lives, but that would be a joke for you, don’t you think?” you snorted as you inserted your arms to his discarded suit jacket.
Naoya stayed still on the bed, his cock still painfully hard and slick with your cum. “Don’t look so angry, Naoya. You had it coming for you. Don’t worry, though, as a thanks for letting me cum that hard — though I mostly did all the work — I’ll keep this between us so you at least get to keep whatever’s left of your dignity,” you blew a kiss his way, “Bye, sweetie. At least now I know people weren’t exaggerating when they called you a good fuck.”
Not bothering to slip your heels back on, you looped your shoes into the curls of your fingers, about to button Naoya’s jacket as you made your way to his door.
You never got halfway across the room when strong arms suddenly lifted you off the ground, your vision transitioning from his door to the pads of his feet, your body slung across his shoulder. Naoya gripped at your ass in warning when you kicked your legs, leaving him with no choice but to hug your thighs with one arm.
The next thing you knew, he slammed the balcony doors open with one hand and slammed you on the pool table. His rough hands yanked his jacket away from your body, the chilly night of the air bringing a shiver down your spine as it hit your drenched core.
Naoya had pinned your arms flat on your back in a painful angle, making you cry out just as he kneed your legs open, his free hand that wasn’t pinning you down aligning his cock against your hole. You were a moaning mess underneath him, the pain only an intoxicating addition to the pleasure he was pounding into you. Naoya then leaned to whisper your ear, the sudden movement making his cock slide deeper into you, the pleasure overwhelming.
“Oh, Naoya, fuck—”
“I am not just a good fuck,” he corrected you, “I am Naoya Zenin — and you will do well being silent and submissive while I fuck you, do you understand?” You were too lost in the feeling of him rutting deep into you that he had you seeing white this time around. When you didn’t answer, Naoya slapped your ass, your yelps echoing from the dead night. “I asked you a question.”
“No,” you bit back, “I refuse to—” you were silenced when Naoya hit your sweet spot, laughing at your state that you were too fucked out to give him a proper answer.
Naoya’s pace was merciless as he fucked deeper into you, the hand on your ass moving up to grab at your waist to keep slamming you back to his cock. He watched as your lips sucked him in so tight that he didn’t know whether you were pushing him out or refusing to let go. Turning your head to the side to gasp for air, you opened your eyes, only to be met by the sight of men crowding on the building across yours to witness your undoing by Naoya’s hands.
“I’ve barely started and you’re already so wet for me,” he mocked in your ear. As if on cue, squelching sounds accompanied your desperate moans, hands grabbing at nothing in particular. “Shall I try upping my speed?”
“N-Naoya- there are people looking.”
“Let them see,” he seethed, using one arm to lift your other leg up to the table to gain him more access into your warm, wet cavern. The sudden stretch made your muscles ache until you lay there limp; jaw clenched at the pleasure Naoya drowned you with. “Let them know how much I’m making this pussy mine. Gosh, can you hear yourself? You sound like a dirty fucking slut,” another slap landed on your ass, hard enough to leave a mark there for tomorrow. “You claim to hate me, so then why are you dripping all over me, huh? Pathetic whore. You women are nothing but cum dumps to me.”
Naoya spread your butt cheeks open, laughing at the silly way you clenched around him every time he pulled out, your puffy lips sucking him back again until Naoya buried himself to the hilt. His dick did wonders in letting out the most erotic whines and whimpers you never thought you’d be capable of, leaving you a drooling and panting mess under him.
“You little fucker, don’t even think about cumming inside me, I will literally castrate you and feed your balls to yourself.”
“Such a dirty mouth. Though that’s expected of a nasty woman like you,” he sassed, his thrusts faltering while his hand clenched your flesh tighter. That was enough to send you over the edge when Naoya slammed his hips harder and more desperately this time around, his cock twitching against your walls. “You wish I would cum inside you. But I have a better plan in mind.”
All it took was one rough hand for him to pull you before him, pushing you down into your knees again as he came inside your mouth. You could feel your cum and his dripping onto his dark marble tiles, the white pool of liquid shining.
Naoya thrusted lazily into your mouth, a sickening grin on his face while he kept you down there. His glare deepened when you tried to pull away from him. “Swallow, you slut. Or I’m fucking your face until I break your jaw.”
Furiously, you swallowed around his cock, Naoya groaning at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him. The moment you gagged from when his tip poked the back of your throat, Naoya pushed you off him until you were left choking on the ground. You gasped for air, hands clasped around your neck, sure that you were going to have a sore jaw and a fucked throat tomorrow.
You kept glaring at Naoya, but this didn’t deter him from gripping your chin down, humming to himself upon seeing that his cum was now gone in your mouth. “Hmm, so you did swallow it like a good girl. I’m glad I’ve disciplined you well.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m King there already, baby,” Before you could retort, his arms encircled your waist until you were heaved in his arms again. You pounded against his back because you were too done, you couldn’t do another round. Naoya sighed as he threw you in the bed as if you were a ragdoll, disappearing in the bathroom for a while before coming back with a wet towel, which he rudely flicked your way. “Clean yourself up and then leave. Take the back elevators. I don’t want the staff to see a whore leaving my place.”
“You’re the one who brought me here.”
“Only because I had a duty to put you in your place,” He stared at you with his smirk now permanent in his face, admiring the bruises he left on your body.
“We’re not over yet, Zenin. I’m going to break you one way or another.”
You rolled your eyes at him, walking to his closet to wear one of his shirts. Naoya was silent the whole time as he watched you button his shirt with trembling hands, his presence hot on your heels as he followed you out the large room.
As you were about to leave, you picked up the towel you used to clean your cum with and threw it right at his face.
Naoya dodged it easily, eyeing the towel with a scoff. “Still resilient, I see,” settling down on one of his lounge chairs like it was a throne, Naoya rested his cheek on his fist as he stared you down. “But fine — I accept your challenge. A true man never backs down from a challenge, after all.”
“Oh, honey, I’m more than just a challenge,” you sneered.
Naoya’s gaze left your eyes to stare at your perky nipples that poked through his shirt, feeling his cock swell all over again. But he was a man of control and dignity — he wouldn’t do anything more with you, not when it was clear you’ve had enough for tonight.
It didn’t bother him though, he knew he’d have more opportunities to put you in your place.
“We’ll see about that. I’ll be the one to decide your worth,” he declared oh so smugly, the mere sound of his voice pushing you to slam a fist to ruin that pretty face of his, though you held your ground, far too tired to move a muscle. Naoya saw this too, and he smiled to himself, head tilted to the side as he studied the mess he’d made of you. “Tomorrow, same time same place?”
There was no telling what pushed you to agree, but the words left your lips far too confidently for you to even wonder why.
“Be ready for me, Zenin.”
“I always am.”
All the way back to the back elevators that Naoya had directed you at, you pondered on how you’d be able to tell your parents you suddenly needed a ride home when they had no idea you left the dinner gala in the first place. But most of all, how were you supposed to tell them you’d acquainted yourself with the Zenin clan all over again?
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dreamteamspace · 3 years
Text
Some positivity about this Tales Of The SMP because I feel like it. MAJOR SPOILERS
Technoblade being in character and hilarious at the same time
Karl says he’s a minecraft streamer fully in character and it’s treated as being the equivalent of a billionaire for the rest of the tales
Everyone having awful rich people accents
Fundy is an old person
Technoblade is just hilarious I don’t make the rules
NIKI NIHACHUUUUU FUCK YEAH!!!!!
Ranboo is the butler and can only communicate in enthusiastic or panicked nods for 90% of it
They try to throw Quackity out of the party the moment he walks in the door. His name is Drew P. Pe- [gets shot]
Karl and Quackity keep falling off the railings and it’s sometimes plot relevant and sometimes not
Techno: “Poor people don’t get healthcare”
Karl trying really hard not to laugh throughout the entire thing, mostly cause of Technoblade and I can’t blame him
Techno, whispering about Quackity: “Butler, feed the poor man poison!” Quackity: “You can say that to my face you son of a bitch.”
Techno: “Sir can you spell ‘economy’?” Quackity: “Of course. A-” Karl: *laughing into his elbow*
Technoblade and Quackity are the funniest people on the planet I don’t make the rules
Technoblade keeps flexing on poor people and I can’t even be mad at him
Quackity: “I’m gonna cough on you!” Everyone: *FERAL PANIC, SCATTER IN ALL DIRECTIONS, HIDE UNDER THE TABLE, SCREAM*
Techno: “Butler, did you feed this man poison yet?” Ranboo: *Tosses Quackity a poison potion.* Techno: “Ah, there it is. Now drink that.” Quackity: “Now why would I do that?” Techno: “It’s high in vitamin B.” Quackity: “What does the ‘B’ in vitamin B stand for?” Techno: “Broke.”
They play duck-duck-goose fully serious and in character sitting in the middle of the ballroom in a circle, complete with screaming and yelling
They stop playing duck-duck-goose for the lights to go down by 3%, everyone to run around as if it’s pitch black, and Niki start to murder people. It’s great. Absolute highlight
I’ve gotten used to Karl being 70% out of character at all times and it’s actually really funny contrasted with everyone else being extremely in character and rolling with whatever he says
“Oh Niki went to the bathroom so we can’t question her.”
Karl: “Oh! ~Canonically~ I see some of his blood! On this wall!!” Everyone: :O!
*Quackity is the one who died* Karl: “I don’t think he died from being dumb and poor... I think he died... from one of YOU!” Everyone: *shocked gasp* Techno: “Who did it? I will pay them for their troubles!”
Ranboo, whispering: “Can I talk?” Techno: “Keep it short, five words.” Karl: “I think we should let him talk to investigate this murder.” Techno: “Alright, six words. That was one of them.”
Fundy: “Everyone knows poor people are very sneaky.” Techno: “Yes, us rich people only commit ~financial crimes~.” Karl: “And it doesn’t count because we don’t MAKE it count!” *Everyone agrees*
They play terrible rich people and simultaniously flex on rich people. We love to see it
Whenever they have to look around Techno just goes and gets a bath and he’s not even sneaky about it
Karl: “I can’t believe they did that to that poor person, whoever this murderer is... I know they’re poor but sometimes they can still live for something else. Like helping rich people get richer!”
Fundy almost drowns in the aquarium?? Was that even scripted??? Nobody even threw him in there he was just there??
NIKI DIES NOOOOOOOOOO WHAT!
*Everyone thinks it’s Karl* Techno: “He did medbay scan!”
Karl: “So it couldn’t have been me. Unless I’m lying. Which killers don’t do!” *Everyone agrees*
Techno: “Everyone empty out your pockets!” Techno: *tossing stacks and stacks of gold bars* Karl: *picks up Sapnap’s gold and mouses over ‘disconnect’* Ranboo and Bad: *buckets and buckets of milk??* Sapnap: *keeps picking up all the gold everyone keeps throwing*
Karl, walking forward and picking up 3847 buckets of milk: “Oh I’ve got so much milk now.” Techno: “Here, wash it down with some poison.” Karl: *actually drinks it and starts screaming “If only we had milk!” while running away*
Karl, to Bad: “Are you still drinking?” Bad: “dn,, btnt... no.”
Karl and Bad chilling in the closet
*Karl and Techno stumble onto Fundy on top of a dead body* Techno: “Caught! In! Four! K!”
Fundy “But if I was the killer... and I was from London... WHY didn’t you hear a GUNSHOT?” Techno: “He’s got a point there.”
Karl: “Why couldn’t it have been the butler?!” Ranboo, whispering: “How many words?” Techno: “Three.” Ranboo: “Nope. Not... me.” Techno: “...he does raise a good point.”
Ranboo: “Is there a murderer-” Techno: “SILENCE! ...He really singed up thinkin he’d get to voice act. Not on my watch.”
Karl, to Techno: “We really need the butler to talk. If we allow him 30 minutes-” Techno, quietly with horror: “30 minutes?”
Techno: “Butler, you have 30 minutes of free speech.” Ranboo: “Oh, oh! 30 minutes! I have a question, then. I read something in a book once. What is a... ‘union’?” Karl: “Nevermind, cut him off.” Techno: “No rights for poor people.”
Fundy: “If it was me, how come I can play such a JOLLY tune?” *starts playing crime theme on a piano* *Ranboo vibing to the music in the background*
Karl: “Okay so Fundy will stay with the butler. He was only like a 100 millionaire, right? Fits that he stays with the poor people.” Techno: “Oh yeah, he’s broke. I heard he streams fortnite.”
Techno laughs himself lightheaded at that
Techno: “I’m gonna file so many complaints to the lights company after this.”
Techno: “Oh no, it’s the butler, we’re out of here! Throw gold, he’s poor so he has to stop for it!”
EGG?!?!?!
THE EGG?!?!?!?!?!
?!?!?!?!
I mean I knew they were all gonna die at the end but STILL
Ranboo is rly scary when he wants to be
LMAO the book dissapeared and Karl had to do a take two
Karl just makes the stream read the book themselves lmfao
on that note HOLY FUCK THE BUILD
HOLY FUCK THE BUILD
they probably downloaded that from somewhere but still
I would fucking die for that castle
TLDR: Ranboo has never done anything wrong in his life, ever
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harveywritings92 · 3 years
Text
BNHA Vampire soulmate au: they feed off you for the first time.
They explain to you how blood tastes to them and enjoy a meal... 
Tw: Blood drinking, heavy petting
---------------------------------
Hawks: It's been a year you and Keigo seem to be together, you've been talking about moving in together anywho, You got a paper cut and Keigo who was crashing at your placed smelled it from your living room, he nearly gave you a heart attack when you turned around to see him standing behind you, his gold eyes had red tinge as he eyed your finger like a like man who hasn't eaten in a week. "Ey, there I thought you've already had enough to drink today?" you were referring to the black and red sports bottle he'd brought with him. "I did, It's just- You have no Idea how hard I've been holding back, your blood it does something to me..." Keigo husked eyes locked on the crimson nectar dripping down your hand he was salivating and swallowed hard. "My blood...does it smell good?" you asked timidly.
The blond snapped out of his trance. "Petal, you smell like ripe strawberries and chocolate to me..." Keigo has already told you how smoker's blood smells and taste to him, well you now you were curious about non-smokers, and asked if blood type also has an effect on the blood's flavor? the winged vamp was happy to answer! 
Smokers: Charcoal/moldy bread.
Drunks: depends on how drunk they are, it's somewhere between hard soda and hard wine or liquor.
Drug users: no idea, he says they smell like rotten eggs, and he's seen how loopy other vamps act after feeding on them and stays clear of them.
Sick/injured: He stays away from sick people but they smell like a cross between a hospital or a funeral home.
Virgins: sweet/tart like fruit-punch.
regular folks: like Sangria the fruitiness is still there but it's mixed with bitter wine . 
"Blood types don't really change up the flavors, but I've noticed type As have a spice to them, Bs start off sour, and type Os are pretty mellow." You hummed very intrigued at what you were hearing then, noticed Keigo was still eyeing your finger, like a starved animal, you looked down at the cut then back Keigo and noticed his wings were tense and he was clenching his jaw, after some thought you sighed you held your hand out to him. "Go head before your jaw breaks" His wings bristled. "I'm not some desperate leech y'know." he huffed you shrugged and went to went to put a band-aid on, but Keigo stopped you.
"Let's not be hasty here..."  He stammered out at you cocked a brow at him. "Yer really giving me mixed signals here." you huffed did he want your blood or not? " Um... Are you sure about this?" he said blush adoring his cheeks. "I'm just letting you suck my finger...Why are you acting like I just asked you to pop my cherry?" Keigo's face was as red as a cherry as you said this. "Because you essenually are..." He explained the big difference between mates and prey, on instinct he wouldn't give a crap about some rando he picked up off the street or whatever mystery pack the commission gives him, but you... 
You're his soulmate, his fated one... and right now your pretty much telling him to make you his! He's not gonna stop at your finger, once he's had a taste he's going for your neck! And once he bites you that's it, you have his mark forever, You paused absorbing what the blond male just told you...Well, he hardly leaves you alone already might as well go all in? "Do it." Hawks's eyes were red now. "Come" he hissed sitting across from you and gesturing to sit in his lap.
You complied and watched Keigo warily as he brought your finger to his mouth, immediately you felt a shock go through you the second Keigo's tongue started lapping at the cut, he moaned tasting your blood for the first time. He was right you tasted every bit as sweet as he thought you would...*more...more...* his monster groaned euphorically he felt the cut on your finger close from his saliva's healing properties.
Keigo's eyes drifted towards your neck, You gasp feeling his grip on your hand tighten before his free hand found it's way behind your head, you tensed seeing Keigo's fangs elongate but before he could pierce your neck he smelled your distress.
His rough hold on you suddenly slacked and his hands lowered to your hips his thumbs gently rubbed you sides as he left little kisses and nip along your jaw before you calmed down enough to trust Hawks wasn't gonna tear your throat out. "Just relax." he cooed kissing you neck a couple more times like a countdown. one...two... three! 
You tried not to scream as you felt his fangs pierce your neck, your fingers gripped his jacket as you felt yourself be drained... then like a switch had been slowly tuned the pain tuned into pleasure? moans started sneaking their out from your mouth which confused you, the blond vampire groaned in ecstasy at how rich your blood tasted with lust mixed in he buck his hips against you, after what seemed like hours Keigo's fangs finally retracted from your flesh and lap at the two holes he left on your neck, they sealed as you whimpered weakly Keigo just shushed and you. "It's alright kid, you did good" he cooed kissing your head as you started drifting out of consciousness.   
When you woke up your head was pounding like a bad hangover Keigo was cradling you in his lap looking relieved and sheepish, he explained he went a little overboard with his drinking and venom dosing and you got drunk on him and passed out! you must've looked panicked cos Keigo assured you were completely fine, the venom isn't lethal... (To you anyways, one of the benefits of being a vampire's soulmate.) Though you might be a bit feverish and cranky for the next couple days.  
----------------------------------------------------
Dabi: You were on your period so yes Dabi's self restraint was breaking! you had no fucking idea what you blood was doing to him you smelled like a 5 star meal and all he could do was sit and drown in his own drool and watch you, like a hawk as you moaned and groaned about  cramps and ruining your pajama shorts when you woke up this morning! a low growl escaped the faux raven haired vamp when he saw you toss out a bag with said aforementioned shorts, it took every nerve in him not to run after the garbage truck like a starved dog! before something you said snapped him out of his trance. "hn...What ya say?" he looked at you drinking his third pack of cow's blood.
"I asked if my blood smells good and what does it taste like?"
"I wouldn't know haven't tasted yours yet..."
"Well, what about anyone else's?" 
"Why are you suddenly interested?"
You huffed "Sorry for wanting to know you..." and were about to tell him to forget it, when the the undead cremator spoke up. "Mocha mixed wit' something spicy like cinnamon or rum" he muttered not looking at you. Of course you cocked a brow now intrigued, now that that was out of the bag he might as well tell ya the rest. 
Smokers: burnt rubber/earwax (eh, everyone was a kid once, had to know what that gunky crap in your ear tasted like.)
Drunks: Depends on how much they've drank, it could between hard water to straight up red wine.
Drug users: the one time he fed on one he thought they were just a pothead, but in turned out they had ate a few shrooms which made them kinda taste like... orange juice and black liquorice?... Honestly he can't give a straight answer, as he was too busy trippin out on another plain of existence to remember.  
Sick/injured: doesn't feed off the sick, but they smell like a hospital or a morgue.
Virgins: like apples and honey
Regular folks: they taste like Apple cider. 
Animal blood: kinda tastes like artificial cherry cough syrup, and he hates it!
"Then why do you drink it?" you gulped seeing his cerulean eyes flash red for a brief second as he locked eyes with you. "Why?...*growl* your standing in front of me smelling like a walking buffet and you have to gall ask me why I drinking this crap?!" he snapped crushing the blood pack in his hand as you started backing away, you were nervous that only fueled Dabi's sadistic side you learned early that he enjoyed agitating you via flashing his fangs, popping behind you out of seemingly nowhere, and faking you out.
I.E. making it seem like he was gonna bite you then blow air in your ears before walking away laughing at your reaction, something about putting you on edge and having your adrenaline pumping through your veins adds more "spice" to your scent, it happens so often that Dabi started noticing arousal was mixing in with your fear, you bet your ass he started mocking you for getting off on him scaring you. 
Of course right now you weren't sure if he was seriously mad, or making fun of you again? He was not making fun of you again he was seriously pissed off, The nerve of you walking around asking him about useless crap, and offering him nothing in return! Dabi had you backed against a wall face buried in your shoulder you felt him sniffing you and flinched you felt him nipping along your neck, and like all the other times he's riled you he smelled that that little speck of arousal through the fear. 
He let out a low chuckle causing you to to become fed up, you though he was screwing with you again! "Goddamm-.hm!" You were cut off by sharp yelp as Dabi's fang suddenly pierced your neck! oh god it hurt! you whimpered tried shoving Dabi off! he groaned pushing your back against the wall, suddenly your body felt weird... you moaned it was hot and and everything felt sensitive...
You barely registered Dabi lifting your legs up you instinctively wrapped them around his hips, he let out a low purr and his demeanor became less angry and forceful, his shoulders relaxed as his hands gently rubbed your legs, after what seemed like hours Dabi finally pulled away from your neck lapping at the pin holes he left on, he checked on you only to find you passed out his eye had a rare tenderness to them as he eyed your flushed appearance. "Well aren't you high maintenance." he cooed his thumb caressing you chin before taking you to bed.   
----------------------------------------------------
Bakugou: He didn't want say what you smelled like to him as it made him look soft, he finally cracks after more poking a prodding. "If I fucking do will you shut up and let me sleep?!" he hissed it was 8: 47 p.m. and he was tired which confused you, the sun was still out and you could hear kids playing in the streets outside. You heard a angry growl Katsuki's ears were pink. "S'mores...you smell like S'mores, happy?" he groaned when you started shaking him, no point in trying to sleep now that he's lit the fuse! He gave you the sum up of what blood tastes like to him.
Smokers: old news paper and figs.
Drug users: No clue stays clear of them, they smell like pickled eggs.
Drunks: Somewhere between hard water and flavored vodka.
Virgins: Why would you want to kno-... arhg! Coffee and vanilla!
Regular folks: Irish coffee and bitter mint.
Then you you started asking about blood types and what it was when he drank, Next thing you knew Katsuki let out this frustrated bellow! You yelped as he grabbed your wrists and pinned you under him. "You wanna know what it feels like?" you sheepishly mumbled a meek "yes" but the blonds red eyes narrowed. "Hah? say that again I couldn't hear ya?" he jeered trying to get you to use your voice, you repeated "Yes" again a bit more forceful as the ash blond unbuttoned the shirt he let you borrow exposing your neck to him. 
Katsuki frowned he could smell your reluctance, then grumbled in annoyance as he recalled Shitty-hair's advice ""Take it slow, be gentle..."" He took a deep breath and carefully buried his face in you neck, You flinched expecting him to clamp down, giving how much you annoyed him, but to your surprise; Katsuki instead opted to started leaving kisses along your jaw and collar bone.
You bit back a moan when he found you sweet spot and causing Katsuki to smirk if wasn't so hungry and tired right now, he might've taken this much farther, but the mouthwatering scent of your blood calling him was too much to pass up. "I'm gonna do it" he husked as you nodded and with that, Katsuki's fangs pierced your neck.
You gasped in pain felling them puncture your skin as Katsuki grasped your hand, the blond groaned in euphoria your blood tasted every bit as rich and sweet as he thought it would, he could smell your discomforted and on instinct inject a doses of his venom into your bloodstream in minutes your blood's flavor intensified with added lust, your tiny moans and whimpers were music to his hears, soon his instincts were warning him stop.
Katsuki's fangs retracted he lapped at the punctures he left on your neck, before pulling away to look at you and snorted you were a flushed out mess. "That sate your curiosity?" he huffed fixing your shirt you tried to say something but were too exhausted to say anything tangible, the ash blond chuckled and settled down next to you for the night.   
-------------------------------------------------------
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ha-hatdog · 4 years
Text
daisuke kambe hcs
- what is it like to be dating daisuke kambe/domestic life with daisuke kambe
i hope you don't mind but i slapped two requests together because they were nearly similar. since i am making one post with two requests, i'll try to make this longer. i hope you enjoy this
requested by anon (i just turned my anon ask and i'll just go ahead and presume you want to be anon hehe sorry about that) : Hi, I saw your post. 😳 I just wanna say goodluck to your writing! and I'll be looking forward to them in the future. ❤ (Your anon asks aren't on btw. 😔) And for the request, it can be a headcanon or a short fic/scenario, whichever you like. :3 But can I please get soft/domestic Daisuke to his s/o (which is the reader)? Like, they're taking care of each other stuff. ❤👁👄👁
uwu thank you so much and i look forward to writing more stories for you
requested by @holdmejk : what it’s like to date daisuke 🥺
i wonder too how it would be like to date this rich man so here ya go
__
haru kato is the simple man, simple life
there is no way daisuke kambe can be considered the same. this is the very reason why haru hates the man with a burning passion
waking up with daisuke goes two ways - the normal soft wake up, or the after sex wake up
if you wake up normally, you will always find yourself on his chest, a hand over the small of your back and the other behind your head, pressing you close to him as if you were his leverage to the real world
you never get tired of seeing him peaceful and cute that you kiss him everywhere your lips can touch - his chest, his cheek, his nose, his forehead, but never his lips
daisuke loves waking up to your kisses but what really gets rid of his sleepiness is the annoyance he felt that you never kiss him on the lips
he will lift his head up from the pillow while holding your head and lean forward to capture your lips. no, he doesn't care about morning breath, he cares about your kisses
if you two had sex the night before, it's a different story because it's daisuke who always wakes up first this time around because you know, he tired the hell out of you
he runs his fingers through your matted tresses as the side of his head rested against his open palm, elbow proped up on his pillow
he loves how you look so happy and satisfied and peaceful. he admires your beauty silenty, a small smile on his lips
he'll try to go another round because he can't help himself when you look so enticing but you stop him because you were already so tired
you will drown in luxurious things. this daisuke kambe we are talking about. what did you expect?
you want it? you got it. you like it? you got it. you need it? you got it. your eyes looked at it a second too long? you got it
daisuke believes you deserve the best of the best so whatever you wanted, bam, something much better
flowers? you get a garden. chocolate? you get a factory. movies? you get a theater. cup noodles? you get a ramen shop or the actual cup noodles company. dress? you get your own clothing line that trumps over versace and gucci
oh you think you can stop daisuke from spoiling you just because you begged him and showed him your big doe eyes? he was tempted for sure but there is no way he'll be holding back, especially after seeing your big doe eyes (yup, that plan backfired)
one hard thing about dating a millionaire? you can't buy anything for him
you do not have the money to lavish him the same, and even if you did, it's stupid to assume daisuke can't afford the same things you plan on buying for him. maybe he'll buy something even better
so instead of spoiling him like he does to you, you buy him trinkets that remind you of him
daisuke has no clue as to why items could remind you of him but he still keeps everything you buy for him close to him like in his office so he can always see them
you bought daisuke a goofy looking bobble head and he put it on the dashboard of his super cool looking car and haru was like the hell is that
daisuke sped through the streets before haru could make a comment
daisuke trust you more than anyone. more than suzue, more than haru, more than himself, more than his credit card
that being said, you are the only one he allows to patch him up after a particularly rough day at work
he will literally drive all the way to your shared home while bleeding out, enter your shared room as more blood trailed his face and deadass say "Can you help me? My head is bleeding"
you scold him for being so reckless and for always giving you a heart attack whenever he comes home in that condition
he doesn't mind being lectured tho because he still gets to feel your soft touches and gets lots and lots of kisses from you
he doesn't get why you kiss his wounds after patching him up. like his wounds are dirty? it still hurts? what was the science behind it? he still won't get it even if you explain it to him but he'll take note for reference
when you get injured, you are obligated to tell daisuke that you are not severely hurt that he had to call the hospitals all around the world to come heal you
you had to snatch the phone from him at one point when he tried to contact professional surgeons from america after you scratched yourself from a bush
daisuke at least knows how to use the first aid kit and no matter how little your injury may be, he will always proceed with the basics because he's very worried about you (though his face doesn't show it), that your small wound would get infected, and then you'll be on your death bed saying your last words, and then he's kneeling on your grave -
you had no idea this is what goes on inside his head every time you get injured
he also kisses your wounds after patching them up. he still doesn't understand the reason as to why you and others do it, but he does it because you do it
daisuke doesn't allow you to move a muscle aftee he's done fixing your wounds. he acts as if you have a terminal disease and would check on you every five minutes when he's working at home and calls you every three minutes when doing police work (haru gets annoyed with that habit so you had a talk with him)
dates with daisuke is far from simple. you either go to the most expensive resorts or attractions in japan or you're going out of the country. yes, your dates are basically mini vacations
so that's the reason why whenever you two want to spend time together, you are in charge. you can't always go to malaysia and england every weekend. plausible when you're with daisuke but you're not having it
you try to make your dates as simple as it can be. like what regular couples would do like going to movies (he was irritated because he had to sit near other people because he only wants to be near you), hanging out in the mall ("No, Daisuke, don't you dare buy that Gucci bag for me, I just glanced at it - oh for fuck sake"), and eating food from stands (Daisuke was confused like where will you two sit so you can eat your food properly?)
you two went ice skating and you guided him as he wobbled on his skates. you never let go of him because the first time you let go of him so he can try to balance alone in the ice, he looked very worried and made grabby hands at you
he becomes better at skating after doing it so many times. you were a little jealous because he's better than you now
daisuke his whole life always had a professional chef make something for him and when he began dating you, he also began inviting other professional chefs to make something for you two
but as your relationship grew stronger, you began cooking for him and you made him feel so special and he couldn't react properly
sometimes he watches you cook and helps with the cutting (you stopped him when he cut himself), but most of the time he's at his office and you bring his food to him and he scolrs you because he wants to eat properly with you ay the dining table
bringing food to his office is a no no. eating together at the dining table and sharing stories together is a yes yes
you don't know if the food you make for him is good or bad to be honest because he always has a deadpan face and if it is bad he won't tell because he'll hurt your precious little feelings but he'll be blunt as hell if it was another person
don't even wish that daisuke will cook for you. don't get him wrong tho, he really wants to but he's been pampered a little too much that he can't distinguish onion from garlic. he just thinks garlic is an elderly onion lmao
so yeah, daisuke cannot cook
but he likes cleaning the dishes with you because he can spray you with water and he'll hear your giggles. you always break many plates when you clean dishes and always drenched in water after your little fight
having the same authority with his AI. you rarely use the AI unless absolutely necessary and you can communicate with daisuke through it. you always mess with daisuke and you'll say something to the AI like "dial haru" and AI will go like "contacting haru kato" daisuke will go "cancel dial" and then AI says "cancelling contact" and you'll say "dial haru again" and the cycle goes on
late night walks are common for you two. when he comes home earlier than he originally does, he will insist you to take a walk on his private property and if he's feeling extra generous, he'll let you take him outside and to the park or something
you can take him to the convenience, the gas station, the prison - as long as he's with you, he's fine
stargazing is part of the late night walks. he'll point at a star and you'll say what constallesation that star was part of
"do you want that star"
"no daisuke"
"i can buy it"
"you are not buying a star"
daisuke : (꒪-꒪) ⇨(¬、¬)
he loves kissing you on the lips. your lips and kisses were just so addicting and sweet that he can't find another better place to kiss you
plus your blush is too adorable. he smirks whenever you get flustered. add a soft embrace to the mix, and his heart melts
daisuke will always open the door for you. in cars, in restaurants (he'll pull your chair for you too), in anywhere
he won't let you open a door as long he's there with you cause he's a simp for you
he won't care about any other person trying to enter an establishment after you enter. he'll let go of the door handle and won't even turn if he hears a loud thump behind him
you know what else he loves? hand holding. daisuke always holds your hand whenever you're outside and will only let go if absolutely necessary like going to the comfort room
he likes playing with your fingers while you love tracing the lines on his palm. you'll probably make a cheesy joke that you can see him marrying you in his future and he goes ( ºΔº )
"how do you know i was planning to marry you?" ( ºΔº ) "can you really read palms?"
you always massage each other because stress. when you massage him, he'll let out small mewls that just makes you go omg so cute but when he massages you - he will whip out the best of best stuff for massage
he will play relaxing music for you. you fall asleep whenever daisuke massages you because he's just so good with his hands
you know what else those hands are good for? touching your body in places that'll make you blush but he mostly especially likes cupping your butt because he thinks its so cute
you don't try to do the same because last time you did, you couldn't walk the day after. don't seduce daisuke if you're not prepared for a pounding
you like grocery shopping with daisuke. sure you can always order someone else to do it or you can make use of shopping as a time to bond with each other
you two work out together. daisuke is a boxer and learning that, you begged him to teach you to box but he didn't because what if he hurts you and instead, taught you how to workout and how to defend yourself
he wanted to test out if his self defense lessons were truly learned so he hired someone to pretend to steal something from you
he learned that his self defense lessons was fruitful because the man he hired came back with bruises and such
when daisuke admitted, he slept on the couch for an entire week
in your birthday, you woke up feeling nervous because it's your birthday - meaning daisuke must be up to some expensive shit
then you realized you're not in your bedroom. it was a completely different bedroom
you were scared honestly and you thought you were kidnapped until daisuke comes into your room wearing his beach wear and his shades while holding two coconuts with straws
"happy birthday. welcome to hawaii, my love"
HOW DID HE BRING YOU THERE WITHOUT WAKING YOU UP
you're just very tired the previous night after some fun activities with daisuke if you know what i mean wink wonk you wouldn't wake up no matter how many times you tried
suzue adores you because daisuke smiles more with you and you're best friends uwu so cuteeee
will always be your peace maker whenever you and daisuke fight. she ships you two. her ship cannot sink
suzue: "just hug it out now. hug it out - I SAID HUG DON'T MAKE OUT YOU TWO ARE GOING TOO FAST"
daisuke loves head pats. he wants them all the time. ruffle ruffle his hair. his eyes will close whenever you pat his head
he only wants you to pat his head. anybody else is a no no. maybe suzue but mostly just you
he lets you get all the groceries while he pushes the cart. he doesn't know the brands he sees on the shelves so he depends on you all the time
there's another reason he likes holding hands with you - he doesn't get lost. there was this time when he got lost because you let go of him and someone called you in the intercom and when you went there, you saw daisuke waiting for you with crossed arms and a balloon and its string around his wrist
the person at service said he was frowning the whole time you were gone and so they gave him a balloon but all he did was frown while playing with the balloon. he's mad because he got lost, you were gone, and you let go of his hand
you two are opposite of haru and his girlfriend in grocery shopping
you love it when his hair is down because he's so cute? can a man really be cute and hot at the same time?
the first you saw him with his hair down, you swooned and coddled him and since then, daisuke makes it his point to put his hair down more often now
taking baths together is just as great as massages. shower? you're not some commoner peasant. you use a very large bathtub
you relax with daisuke in the bathtub with bubbles and wine and sometimes he read you a poem from the poetry book he brings at times
you two always go to bathe together. but if you feel like you wanna bathe alone, daisuke will get all pouty aww and sulk aww
he will sit at the toilet seat and stare at you and when he does this, you can't hold yourself back anymore because he's too adorable and just let him join you with a sigh. he's with you in the bathtub in seconds
but if you don't, he'll leave the bathroom after a while and poke his head at the door, staring at you, as if saying this is your last chance and if you still don't allow him, there is a good chance you'll find him sulking on your bed while lying down, back facing you
just cuddle with him, he'll be fine
haru still doesn't believe daisuke got someone like you as his girlfriend because you're so kind and down to earth and you're dating this rich bastard like whaaaat
you try to make haru see the good qualities of daisuke and every single time you do, daisuke does something to piss him off
you made it your personal mission to experience the regular life of a human being without an unlimited balance
daisuke allows you to style his hair whenever you two sit on the couch. any hairstyles, any accessories, he's open so long your soft fingers are on his hair
you have always wanted a dog and begged daisuke for one but he did not relent, saying it was too much work and although it hurts to see you sad, he had to be strong
this is the only thing and time he said no to you and i'm pretty sure you heard haru scream in horror at the distance in disbelief
then one day you and him were walking down a street when a small puppy trotted up to you two wagging its tail and barking happily at you
you bent down and patted it, cooing and daisuke is wary of that small adorable pup. will it bite you? surely the pup has some common sense
you scooped the pup up and it licked your face and you were laughing and daisuke just has a sudden realization - who looked cuter? you or the puppy? or perhaps you made each other cuter?
daisuke rejected the puppy when you tried giving it to him but you forced it into his arms. daisuke and the pup kinda just stared at each other for a long time. you honestly thought you broke both of them until daisuke kissed the forehead of the puppy, hesitantly but softly
you were shooked (you swore you can hear haru screaming again)
daisuke couldn't help himself. something about the puppy just reminded him of you. it's those puppy eyes
"we need to find its owner, daisuke"
"no"
you told him he cannot buy the puppy because the owner must be worried sick
but it turned out it was a stray lil pup and you adopted her
now daisuke comes home to see you sleeping on the couch waiting for him with the pup in your arms. his heart melts every time
his small little family
for now
Daisuke Kambe let out an exhausted sigh as he parked his car in the garage. His hair was tousled, eyelids dropping, and jacket discarded on the passenger seat beside him. The case earlier has proven difficult than the previous ones he had taken. The criminal was harder to catch with his agility and athletic abilities, and was not easily persuaded when beckoned by cash. Not to mention his partner has been rebuking him the whole time, ranting about how justice workes and how money does not solve everything - basically, the usual. He was extremely fatigued, and all he wanted to do was wash up and go to bed with his beloved in his arms.
A tired smile broke his bland visage at the thought of you. The only reason he hasn't decided to spend the night at a hotel was because you weren't there. The faster he moves, the faster he can get to bed with you. Oh, he can't wait to see you and that little puppy of yours and his.
He exited the car, jacket draped over his shoulder. He sluggishly went to the front door and entered. As he delved further into his mansion, he was immediately greeted by a lovely sight. Your slumbering figure was laid out on the couch, the newly adopted puppy curling near your chest and resting with you. Warmth swaddled his heart and his eyes softened. All of a sudden, the exhaustion he felt has vanished, and all he could do was admire this masterpiece before him. You were waiting for him again.
As much as he wanted to see you like this longer, he couldn't let you sleep on the couch. There's a much more comfortable bed waiting for you upstairs. He approached you with quiet footsteps. The puppy perked up, her superb hearing picking up the sound of his advancement. Daisuke knelt down and stroked her head. "Good evening, Chico." Then he turned to you. You looked so peaceful - parted lips, even breathing. He leaned forward and pecked your cheek, smiling a small smile when you shifted. "Good evening, love."
You let out a yawn as you rubbed your eyes, body shuffling. "Daisuke?" You groaned out. "Is that you?"
Daisuke knew you couldn't see him but he nodded anyway. "You don't have to keep waiting for me like this, you know."
To his surprise, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled yourself closer to his body. "But I want to. And I missed you." You yawned through your statement as you nuzzled your head on his neck. "You still smell good after being outside the whole day. How unfair."
Daisuke let out a chuckle. "Come on. Let's get you to bed." He stood up easily even with your form carried in his arms. Chico jumped out of the couch at the same time and followed Daisuke as he carried you upstairs to your shared room, lying you down carefully on the bed. Daisuke made an attempt to withdraw from the withholding grapple of your arms around his neck but his endeavor was less then proliferant as you have established a stronger hold on him, unrelenting.
Daisuke let out a sigh as he tried to adjust from the uncomfortable stance he was positioned in. "I need to change first, Y/N." Badgered Daisuke, hands resting on your back.
Yet his words did no preclude you and you merely shook your head in response. "No," Your eyes shone with defiance, pout manifesting on your lips. "Stay."
"I'll come back in a few, love. I can't sleep in my work clothes." Insisted Daisuke, resolve crumbling the more he looked into your eyes.
"I don't care. Just stay." You grumbled.
Sometimes Daisuke sometimes wondered just how much power you had over him. He couldn't say no to you, apart for that one time when you asked if you two could get a puppy. Looking back at it, he felt guilty that he did not allow you two to have a dog earlier but if it wasn't for his stubborness, you wouldn't have come across Chico.
Speaking of the little puppy, it had successfully jumped on the bed and let out a merry howl. Distracted by the new development of the young dog, you were able to pull Daisuke down on the space beside you and did not think twice before snuggling to his side, arms embracing him tightly as you grinned happily, a happy giggle exiting your lips. You rubbed your head on his shoulders, sighing contentedly. "You're staying here with us."
Daisuke looked down at your beaming face and looked away, redness tinting his cheeks. "If it can't be helped." He stated, but he knew he made his choice the moment you had told him to stay.
Daisuke slowly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, and you willingly accepted his affection. You were so warm, so loving. How did he ever find you?
And then came the cloud of exhaustion. His eyelids gradually drooped over his sockets, his strength withering every second that had gone by until the last thing he saw before sleep overcame him was you and a bounding Chico burying herself in between the two of you.
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lupismaris · 3 years
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Blackberry Crepes- silverflintham black sails modern au ficlet
(i saw a few posts about how love is sharing food and making breakfast for your loved ones and lets just say this is part 1 of a series in which Flint cooks for his loved ones when saying i love you might not be enough)
Sleep was something of a stranger to Silver. He liked to joke that he didn’t need it, that he could just cat nap for half an hour here and there, and be good for a few days, that he was just built different, the perks of life on the run and never having a real routine. But in truth he’d push himself until his body gave out and he slept for 18 hours and woke up feeling like death warmed over. That was the only way he’d be able to get any real sleep. Pushing himself to the point of exhaustion, or, as he had eventually learned with Flint and Thomas, getting well and truly laid until his brain shut off and his body felt like lead.   He preferred the latter, of course, but it still wasn’t something he felt he could readily ask for. Especially when it wasn’t enough to keep his mind quiet. Dreams, nightmares, they’re funny things. You can think you’re too tired to dream and then on your way into an REM cycle you get blind sided by the most vivid night terror you’ve had in the past three months. You could be napping on the couch when the phantom limb starts acting up and your mind conjures memories of when you lost it or just vague ideas of what life would be like if you hadn’t and you wake up unable to tell which is worse. You could be strung out and coming down from an orgasmic high and then feel your stomach drop when you finally fall asleep and your mind tells you it isn’t safe, jolting you violently back to consciousness. Or you could be dozing in the early morning hours, the way Silver had been, after a good night, a genuinely good night, and find yourself halfway between deep sleep and waking, faced with fears you’d buried so far deep you hoped they’d suffocate. They’d gone to dinner, on a date even. Flint and Thomas had made a point to be home and get dressed up and take him out on the town and pay complete attention to him, like he was just a normal lover and not, well, himself. It was still an adjustment for him, this idea that he could just have this, a normal relationship with men who actually wanted him, where using each other wasn’t part of it, where the end game wasn’t someone’s bank account or an act of violence, where there wasn’t even an end game to consider. By the end of July the charms of summer had started to wear thin, even for Silver, and he was tired of the heat and the mirror like cage of the city, he was tired of the long days and the long conversations and the longer shadows on the blistering asphalt. He was tired of the haze that made his mind question what was and wasn’t real, despite knowing what was. It left him on edge and he knew Flint could tell, no matter how hard he worked to hide it. If Thomas knew, he was at least polite enough not to give it away. Dinner had been lovely. A little Spanish place by the promenade, followed by a short walk since the evening was cooler than expected and a breeze of the Hudson meant it was almost blissful. There had been wine and Flint’s homemade limoncello tarts when they got home and endless lazy kisses and one of them always touching him as if trying to keep him tethered. There had been sex, great sex, not that Silver had ever had bad sex with the pair of them (the smug rotten bastards), but the kind where Silver had been able to let go and drown in it for a while, let someone else carry the load, and do the thinking for a while. It still hadn’t been enough.
Silver sighed, a cloud of smoke curling around his face as he watched the rooftops shift and glimmer in the faded teal skies of four am, his second cigarette of the hour dangling somewhat carelessly from his fingers. He had tried, valiantly he felt, to stay in bed with Flint and Thomas, to sleep curled up with them the way Flint always hoped he would after sex. Some nights it worked and he’d wake up when Flint went for his blasphemous morning run. Most nights though he’d wait until Thomas was out cold and snoring like a bear, then kiss Flint goodnight, and slip back to his room next door. He’d fallen asleep tucked into Flint’s chest, with Flint’s arm around him and the deep rumble of his breathing filling his ears. Thomas was spooned up behind Flint, clinging to his husband like a child and snoring loudly, but that too was somehow comforting. He was safe, he was loved, he was home. And suddenly the next thing Silver knew he was choking on nothing and fighting the air, sitting bolt upright in bed with a wordless, noiseless scream of fear. The only saving grace was that it didn’t wake the others, Thomas still sound asleep and curled up under the covers, Flint spooned up behind him, years younger in sleep, a different man. Silver had sat there shaking for some time, half an hour, five minutes, he couldn’t be sure. Once he could breathe without wheezing and his hands had stopped shaking violently, he steadied himself and slipped out of bed, grabbing his crutch from where it rested dutifully against the nightstand. There wasn’t much he was good at in life, but John Silver had always been good at running. This wasn’t any different. Now, he was wrapped in an old blanket, hidden away on the roof where he’d been putting together his own little makeshift garden. Plants that he’d found half dead or dying on the curb, abandoned succulents from friends, houseplants he found on discount at the hardware store that he’d barter down to a dollar. He liked the distance heights gave him, always had, was always climbing things as a kid to try and get a better view, try to hide away from prying eyes. It was harder now that he had the prosthetic, but the elevator could take him up to the loft, and the stairs to the roof weren’t too steep, so he could manage them with his crutch. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the little patch of green paradise that Flint and Thomas had nurtured down below, he loved it and the time they spent there. But this- this little scrap of roof top, with it’s homemade shelves of plywood and resurrected plants, was his. Silver took another drag from his cigarette and watched a flock of pigeons shift their course in flight, heading west towards Manhattan where the morning crowds were no doubt slowly beginning to stir. Even on Saturdays, the city got a bright and early start if it ever truly decided to rest. He could hear tidbits of conversation from his perch, voices carried up to him like secrets as their owners walked past, heading home from work, from a night out, leaving home to go to work, whatever their little lives demanded, existing in spite of themselves, for themselves. Cars hummed past, cabbies and uber drivers trying to catch the last of the club goers as they left the bars in search of a trip home, picking up the true early bird tourists as they tried to beat the others to some absurd event or another. He could even hear music, someone’s window open on their block he thought, and the faint repetitive sound of a piano as they worked through their scales. Maybe he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. The neighborhood would be well and truly awake soon. The running group would be on the corner waiting for the stragglers, hitting the asphalt by five am. The store fronts and bodegas would start opening up around six, the bars by eight if they served brunch, and the world would come to life at Silver’s feet. He had until then to quiet the noise in his head and remember how to put his mask back on. The sound of the door nearly gave him a heart attack. He thought for a moment that maybe, if he kept still, he’d go unnoticed, they the sparse shelves and plants and the blanket might hide him well enough that Flint, because it was always Flint, would go back down stairs and go for his morning run and leave him well enough alone. But he knew better. “Do I want to know how long you’ve been up here?” came the sleep heavy rumble of a voice. “Depends on whether you want to be disappointed this early in the morning,” Silver replied dryly. And there it was, the telltale sigh of disappointment, because Flint was going to be disappointed no matter what answer he got. “Silver-” “I don’t want to do this right now.” “Do what?” Silver sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He heard Flint move across the roof, the soft footsteps of bare feet on the weatherproof matting slow and well chosen, stopping next to him. “This thing you do where you try and bully answers out of me. I don’t fucking feel up to these games, alright? I just- I don’t,” Silver said, risking a look upwards. Flint was shirtless, as he always was when fresh out of bed, but he’d pulled on a pair of old sweatpants before going to look for Silver. He’d left his hair loose, the rich copper strands hanging in a curtain around the left side of his face, the shaved under cut peaking out along the right. Silver could still see the pillow prints on his cheek, and his beard was disgruntled and unbrushed the way it rarely was when he left the house. Silver loved him like this, he loved Flint always, but there was something about Flint like this, soft and at ease, bare chested and vulnerable that managed to settle even the worst of Silver’s deep seated insecurities. Because who else got to have Flint like this? Who else but Silver and Thomas got Flint at his gentlest? They looked at each other for a moment, Flint frowning softly with his hands on his hips and Silver wrapped up in his blanket, saying nothing, saying everything they could. Then Flint sighed and sat down next to him. “I’m not here to bully you,” he said gently, taking the cigarette that Silver was neglecting. “You were gone when I woke up, thought I’d check on you,” He paused, relighting the cigarette with his trusty old lighter, “but as you were not in your room I figured something was bothering you and you’d be either working in the office or up here.” “You didn’t have to check on me.” “It was for my sake, not yours.” Silver smiled faintly, his eyes stinging from what he hoped was just exhaustion but was probably tears. He didn’t look at Flint, just blinked them away and watched the sky lighten little by little as Flint finished the cigarette. “You know that’s not what I’m doing, right?” Flint asked after a few minutes of silence. “Whats not what you’re doing?” “Bullying you.” “I mean it’s kinda what you do.” “Is that how you see it?” Flint wasn’t looking at him. He was reaching for the French enamel cigarette case that was sitting next to Silver, one he’d stolen in Monaco several lives before, and lighting another cigarette. Silver watched him, a little wistful, and incredibly exhausted all at once. “No.” He said. “Yes. Depends on when you try and do it I guess.” That got a low hum from Flint, smoke filling the air for a moment in a pensive cloud. Silver waited, oddly tense, hoping that Flint would listen to him, and not try and play one of their fucked up little games so early in the morning. They were doing really well these days, not playing any games at all, having real, honest conversations like well adjusted adults who hadn’t done all the awful things they’d done, to each other, to others. But sometimes it was so much easier to just be awful to each other, to fall back into the old way of doing things. “I only check on you to know you’re still here,” Flint said finally. “I only ask if you’re alright because if I can fix it, I want to. I don’t care if you lie to me about what had you out of bed this morning. I don’t give a shit if you never tell me the names of your ghosts, I’ve told you that a dozen times, I know you remember that as well as you remember the names of my own ghosts.” Silver did remember, both the ghosts, and the plaintive way Flint had asked him to trust whatever it was they had between them. “I just want to know you’re still here. That you’ve not gone running off again. That you’ll run to me next time this,” he waved at the rooftop and the skyline as if encompassing all of Silver’s faulty coping methods, “fails and you’re out at sea. I just- I ask those questions to reassure myself, alright?” He paused, taking another drag from the cigarette, tipping his head back with a heavy sigh. Silver could see the age starting to show on his face again, in the soft lines around his eyes, the firm set of his mouth, the scars on his nose and throat, the endless sea of freckles, the faded ink of his tattoos, the streaks of gray in his beard. Before his eyes, the man he loved, his Flint, was appearing, returning to flesh and blood from the land of dreams. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, pup,” Flint added, finally turning his head and catching Silver looking at him. The sea green of Flint’s eyes always seemed to hook Silver, regardless of whether he wanted them to. They could be the deep inky black full of secrets or the still gray of quiet waters, it didn’t matter- if Flint looked at him, soft and open and endlessly patient the way no one else was, Silver would eventually break. Flint knew it, but so far, he never seemed to abuse the power he held. Silver smiled faintly. With a soft groan he shifted onto his knees, loving the way Flint’s hands immediately reached to steady him whether he needed it or not, and crawled into Flint’s lap, straddling his hips and wrapping the worn blanket around them both. He took the cigarette from Flint’s lips and stubbed it out in the ashtray, as Flints hands settled like an anchor, warm and sure, at the small of his back. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, old man,” Silver said, brushing Flint’s hair out of his eyes, “I promised you were stuck with me. No amount of nightmares are gonna change that.” He kissed Flint softly, smiling at the low rumbling purr it got him, at the way Flint’s hands pulled him closer, spread wide on his back. It was a soft, innocent thing, no heat, no hunger, and that too was still something novel to Silver, that he could have this innocent kind of intimacy with someone, with a man like Flint. He craved it as much as he craved the wilder side of love and was grateful that Flint seemed happy to satisfy both moods whenever they arose. “Good,” Flint said, once the lazy kiss broke and Silver tucked his face into Flint’s shoulder with a happy sound. “Because while I would absolutely give chase, I’d rather not have Thomas trailing after us as well. You know the kind of trouble he gets up to, just imagine him trying to find you.” Silver snorted with an undignified burst of laughter. “No, god, he’d be impossible.” “Exactly. I’d have my hands full just trying to keep him in one piece. I’ve got enough gray hair as it is, pup, don’t go giving me anymore before my time, alright?” Flint lifted his chin as Silver’s fingers petted the gray streaks in his beard, letting out another soft rumbling sound. “Alright. Though I do think it’s sexy.” “Yeah yeah, you’ve made that perfectly clear,” Flint kissed the top of Silver’s head, nuzzling his messy curls. “C’mon, why don’t we head inside, I think it’s a reasonable time for coffee.” “What about your run? Your awful five am morning ritual I can almost never talk you out of even for a blow job.” “I feel like skipping this morning.” Silver lifted his head, leveling Flint with a skeptical look and a raised eyebrow. Flint returned it with a fond smile. “Its Saturday, I feel like making breakfast,” Flint said with a shrug. I love you, Silver heard. “Can we have blackberry crepes? And scrambled eggs?” Silver asked after a moment. “And that fancy bacon you got from the farmer’s market?” Flint smiled, still fond and impossibly warm. Silver’s heart skipped, flipped, and settled in his chest. Flint had heard the unspoken, skittish, and undeniable “I love you too” tucked into Silver’s reply. Flint coaxed him into another soft kiss, still wearing that same smile.
  “Blackberry crepes it is.”
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padmsanakin · 3 years
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okay i’m giving my two cents on ml salt.
man??? it’s so confusing??? how people can have critical thinking skills worse than a rock. it’s frankly embarrassing and i can’t help but feel second hand embarrassment from it??? like one minute they all worship adrien and next minute they just???salt him from making a small mistake which is often not that significant. literally, half the time it’s just victim blaming for whatever fudging reason that i have yet to pinpoint.
but let’s debunk them, i guess.
syren. apparently, according to a couple of galaxy brainers, adrien allowed 200 people to drown?? what?? he doesn’t even have the power up. he would probably just drown and die somehow and the team would be one member down. like?? how is that heroic?? that’s stupid. adrien has been kept in the dark and reasonably, he does get angry and he wants to renounce his miraculous. understandable. not right but understandable. but these galaxy brainers want him to just jump into the fucking flood and die. amazing.
0/10 criticism
chameleon. okay hotshots, but i don’t even see half your arguments. okay, let’s dissect this. it’s in a sad way he does view this. he has been his whole life been majorly deferential to authority because of his father and chat noir is the only place where he can question a bit. and he knows that he and marinette can’t expose lila but they do know she’s lying and often times, when adrien knows he does support her. i mean the criticism seems to be pulled out of nowhere to me. okay???
-1000/10 criticism
nyc special. adrien fucked up majorly and it was essential to him growing and maturing. he needs to be less reckless and more serious when it comes to handling things. but the thing people salt for is him renouncing his miraculous. essentially adrien was acting like the abused child he was and he is apparently the manipulative freak. *spits into can*
1/10 criticism. maybe I’m being too generous.
and the most recent one of him breaking the chimney. apparently he was acting entitled and assert his power?? over who?? may i ask? there is literally not a single soul in sight. like apparently chimney is the poor thing here ?? like i am against destroying public property but he was rightfully angry for being kept in the dark and sidelined. remember optigami where marinette said i would have come for him if she knew his secret identity. sounds rich, man, and yet i see literally no one call her out. like what adrien did was wrong but literally people are so fricking funny it doesn’t make sense at the arguments they make. being angry is human and your emotions are valid but his actions aren’t. but people act like as if adrien committed something inflammatory like a war crime or smth.
lmao. adrien salt.
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turkwriter · 3 years
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Part of the first chapter I’ve been working on in my real world private investigator Dinfeld fic. It’s not the whole thing, doesn’t have a title, I didn’t really edit it, so... enjoy it, I guess.
“I have a proposition for you.”
They're the first words Migs has heard from Din Djarin in at least a year and a half now, the first he's seen of him in that long too. Yet here Mando is, standing in Migs' shitty strip mall office as if the asshole hasn't been acting as if Migs was six feet under to him this whole time. To add insult to injury, it's been raining this week like Migs has never seen before in Nevarro County and Mando apparently doesn't believe in umbrellas, considering the water soaking his hair and clothes is dripping all over the office's decades-old carpet. Mando somehow manages to pull off the drenched look without looking like a drowned dog- it's a good look on him even- but the carpet smells shitty enough already and it's not like Migs has a janitor to clean the office up. He's gonna have to go looking for the fucking mop and that shitty little yellow cart on wheels with the gray water in it to clean the mess up himself, and Migs seriously considers chucking the stapler on his desk straight at Mando's head. But then he'd have to clean up Mando's blood too.
He doesn't even know how Mando got into his office without Migs seeing or hearing him. It's not like there's a bell over the door or anything- the office is one small room, what the hell's he need a bell for?- but Migs was sitting right there and the door's made of glass, glass that he's sorely tempted to put Mando through right now.
But instead of the violence he really wants to rain down on Mando's head, the surprise of seeing the bounty hunter in his office after complete radio silence for so long leaves Migs gaping quietly at the other man for a good minute...which, if he thinks about it, might be the longest he's gone his whole life without saying a word. The few rational thoughts drowning in the fuzzy blood rush in his brain surface just long enough that he realizes that Mando is expecting a response from him.
“What?” Migs finally asks, dumbly.
“A proposition. It means-”
“Yeah, I fuckin' know what it means, jackass,” Migs growls. Because annoyance is an emotion he knows how to deal with, anger makes talking easier, he's good at bringing out the sharp words. “What the hell do you want?”
As an answer, Mando approaches his desk- and Migs has to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from launching himself over the desk to beat the shit out of the guy for leaving muddy footprints all over his goddamn floor- and drops what looks to be a big bunch of papers wrapped in multiple plastic bags to keep it safe from the rain.
“So you do know that water makes things wet,” Migs mutters under his breath. Mando makes a questioning noise and gives Migs that weird I don't know how to do facial expressions facial expression he always used to make whenever conversation went anywhere beyond work shit. Migs guesses it's sort of comforting that some things don't change but, hell, he almost feels bad for Mando's kid: with a dad like that, the little gremlin's probably a lost social cause already. “Never mind. What's all this crap?”
“Something I've been working on,” Mando says. And then, like he owns the place, he starts fanning out the papers inside the bag all over Migs' desk. Migs takes in multiple pictures of a woman's face on some sort of flier. A few seconds later, he realizes it's not the same woman in each picture. “Vasi Giannino, Aku Huang, Roxy Shimada, and Kristina Mulrennan. Four women, all missing in Nevarro County, in the last two years. Ever heard of any of them?”
“No, I haven't-” Migs starts but then shakes his head. “Wait, Shimada was on the news, wasn't she? The missing pretty rich girl of the week about a year back or whatever? Yeah, I heard of her. Did they ever find her?”
“No,” Mando answers. “What about the others?”
Migs stares at Mando. Mando who is in his office and acting like everything's fine and normal.
“Mando, why the fuck are you asking me about this?” Migs asks bluntly. “I don't got info on any of these ladies. You know what my business is about. It's a bunch of paranoid assholes who want to make sure their significant other isn't getting someone else's dick stuck in where it doesn't belong.”
“All four of these women have cash rewards out for information that might lead to finding them,” Mando says all matter-of-factly.
“Okay...?” Migs asks questioningly, shrugging his shoulders. He suddenly sort of has an idea of where this conversation is gonna go and he wants no part in it. “People go missing in Nevarro all the time.”
“These are the four cases that were never solved. Shimada's got a ten thousand dollar prize. Giannino's five, and Huang's another two. Seventeen thousand dollars.” Mando glances around Migs' office. “Enough to pay someone to clean up in here sometimes.”
“Oh, fuck you!” Migs mutters, wanting to shove Mando's stupid handsome face into his own wet footprints.
“Sixty-forty,” Mando says as if Migs will know exactly what he's talking about and the sad thing? Migs does know what he's offering. “You can even have the bigger half.”
A while ago, Din Djarin being in his office bringing up the idea of working together wouldn't be an out of nowhere concept. It's not like they worked together exclusively or nothing, but Mando and his bounty hunting worked well with Migs and his private investigating, and Morak's not that big a city so it made sense that they'd wind up working together on some cases. Mutual goals working against a small recurring group of shady characters and all that good crap. Migs uses his connections in Morak to find someone who jumped bail and Mando got to swoop in and take the guy in hot. Neither of them (usually) got too hurt and they both got some money out of it. A happy ending for both of them.
But it was Mando, not Migs, who put an end to that. Let Mando live with the fucking consequences.
Apparently, Mando can sense the “fuck no” energy radiating off Migs in waves because he just pats the papers on the desk one more time, leaving a wet hand print on poor Kristina Mulrennan's teenage face.
“Just think about it,” Mando urges him. “You have my number if you change your mind.”
That finally gets Migs out of his chair. Yeah, Migs has Mando's fucking number. He called it enough times without an answer when they had their falling out last year. Migs can see Mando lowering his hand towards the back of his sweater, looking all defensive, as he approaches but Migs just puts a firm hand on Mando's shoulder and leans in close.
“Nice seeing you, Mando,” he says in a friendly voice, with bared teeth. And then, just to add some asshole emphasis to it, he pats Mando on the cheek with his other hand, much harder than he needs to. “Real good of you to drop in.”
Mando frowns at him for a second before giving him a short nod and walking out as quietly as he came in, considerate enough to make sure he walks on the already wet parts of the carpets. Migs waits until he's gone to exhale, gives himself a minute to calm down, then goes searching for some paper towels.
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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years
Text
Ride Me Like a Harley
Part 1 | Part 2 of The Prospect & The President
A/N: Here’s Part 2 of this 2-part series with Jax and a gender-neutral reader, based on the below requests! *The idea is that this fic can be enjoyed from the perspective of any reader, with no reference to gender-specific features.* Anyone reading as a woman can just imagine that SAMCRO admits women! (hard to believe, I know, but hey this is fanfiction 🙃)
Pairing: Jax Teller x gender-neutral reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, anal sex, dom!Jax (being bossy as fuck while you ride his cock) Requests: Request 1 (+ follow-up) and Request 2 from @malethirsty
Word Count: ~3k
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... Continued from Part 1 [Read Here]
So it’s finally happened. Tonight you were finally patched in. The excitement of joining the club lives up to everything you’d imagined. After all of the hazing and humiliation, the brutal process of initiation... it feels so good to know it was all worth your while. 
And now it’s time for celebration. A couple of other prospects were patched in too, the same time as you, and the Sons are throwing a huge party to welcome you all to the crew. A big bash at the clubhouse with limitless bitches and booze. Bikers gone wild, in true SAMCRO style.
Thankfully, all these festivities help to distract, take your mind off the fact... that you still can’t get over your stupid obsession with Jax. Can’t get over that task, from a few weeks ago, that had put you on the fast track into SAMCRO. Just as Jax had promised. You will never forget how the President savagely teased and taunted, that the patch would be yours nice and quick... if you did just one little thing: sucked his big dick. Standing there like a motherfucking king, Jax knew how eagerly you’d jump on it.
Well, at least he was honest, you think as you throw back another drink. Speeding up your admissions process was exactly what you’d wanted. You’re just glad Jax kept his promise.
You spend most of the night pretending you don’t notice as he silently flirts with you from across the room, in all the ways that make you melt for him. Glancing at you over his shoulder, for no reason, simply for the sake of teasing. Flashing all those dirty little smirks and winks.
Fuck him, you think, knowing you surely never will. The President had ordered you to suck him off for one specific purpose; now that you’ve performed that service, your reward has been fulfilled. When you followed that order, you couldn’t have hoped that a meaningless joke of a blowjob would take things between you and Jax any farther...
Like he’s reading your mind, Jax approaches you now from behind. “Hey, you know why this is such a big night for our charter?”
You turn toward him and end up losing yourself in his blue gaze, admiring every feature on his flawless face. Dumbstruck as always. The universe is clearly conspiring to make your attempts to get over this man even harder.
As your eyes lock on his, Jax flicks his tongue between his smirking lips, ruining you the way he loves to do. “Well, thanks to you... our club just got a hundred times hotter.”
Ugh. Does he have to be corny as fuck? He knows that his praise always gets you all horny and hot and bothered...
And you’ve honestly had enough. Tonight you’re gonna put your foot down: now you’ve finally joined the club, Jax either has to stop fucking around, fucking you up... or just start fucking you, full stop. One or the other.
For fuck’s sake, you hope it’s the latter.
You spent so many months enduring teasing and torture from all of the Sons—no one more so than this dirty bastard—and in some ways, you have to admit it was fun. But tonight you are done. Done with doing whatever it takes, just to move up the ladder. Done playing along with the President’s games. Because damn it, your dignity matters.
Ever since Jax demanded that you suck his cock, then just left you to grovel in shame, feeling shitty as fuck, you’ve been struggling to put back together the pieces that shattered. 
But now you are an actual member. The President has to remember, and has to start treating you better. You’re not just a plaything for Jax Fucking Teller.
Never mind that the thought of being a plaything for the king turns you on to no end... you just have to pretend that it doesn’t. Your willing submission is just what he’d want. And you won’t ever let him humiliate you into such a position again. You just won’t.
“Jax, I think you should stop this,” you snap as you set down your shot glass, attempting eye contact, but quickly averting your eyes because otherwise you’d fucking die from his hotness. “Seriously, just stop with this... all of this nonsense. I’m sick of your shit, to be honest.”
The President pauses and arches his brows up. He clearly has no plans to stop. The cute crow eater standing at the bar just handed him a frothing mug of beer, hoping to catch his attention with tits popping out of her top, but Jax’s focus is on you alone as if nobody else is even here.
“Sick of my shit?” he repeats your words, wickedly snickering at you because he is the worst. You will never get over your thirst, and he knows it. “Nice try, bitch. This whole fucking club is my shit, in case you haven’t noticed. I own it.” 
Oh shit. There he goes acting like the king he is, exuding big dick energy that makes you fall to pieces. You down another shot, to drown out your instinctively submissive thoughts. Struggling to stifle back your inner whore. Yes, sir, you’re desperate to answer. The whole fucking world is yours. Yes of course. Yes, Master. You are a god.
Why does he have to be so mind-blowingly hot...? It really sucks, the way this evil bastard, just existing like he does, has your ass so totally fucked. His presence never fails to blow your mind to bits, rendering you a speechless piece of shit.
The king reaches to run his ring-clad fingers slowly across your new patch, the small strip of fabric that you have so proudly attached. His touch feels like a goddamn attack. Reminding you, just as he’d said, that SAMCRO is the property of Jax. “And now you’re a part of it. Don’t act as if you don’t love it.”
Fuck this shit. You try to pull back; you’re determined to act. Dead set on doing exactly that. “Don’t touch me, Jax.”
“DoN’t ToUcH mE, jAx,” he mocks, with a sadistic little laugh. And he’s so savage that you honestly can’t manage. Might just drop down onto your knees to bow before his crotch, right here and now and let the whole room watch, as you worship his cock.
On impulse, your eyes drop to his jeans and you notice a bigger-than-usual bulge. Jax is hard as a rock. What the fuck? You know he loves to tease you and crack jokes, making you choke, watching you turn to mush, taking advantage of your silly little crush—but since when does it get him off this much...?
He leans in closer, wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you can’t think anymore. Melting into his touch and moaning like a whore. Engulfed in the rich scent of Jax Fucking Teller.
“Bitch, you know nobody ever looked better in leather?” he breathes into your ear, scandalous words for you alone to hear. “Look even hotter now that you’re a member. Fuck, I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night. But you already knew that, right? Think anyone would notice if the two of us snuck out of here? Together?”
At this point Jax’s arms are the only thing holding you up. You’re about to pass out right in front of the whole fucking club.
And the bastard won’t keep his goddamn dirty mouth shut. “Tell me how much you wanna get fucked in this kutte, you filthy little slut.”
Oh my Goddd... You want nothing more than to surrender, but then you remember—the pain you had felt, literal living hell, when the President shot his whole load down your throat and then left you alone and abandoned, like it never happened. The worst sense of emptiness you could have ever imagined.
You swore to yourself that you’d never allow him to do that again. Definitely not the night of patch-in. Your first night as a part of the crew, and already he’s set on destroying you? Seriously, though? Fuck no.
So you pull back. “Look, Jax—before I earned the patch, I let you go ahead and burn me like a sack of trash. But now I’m done with all of that,” you state, shoving him further away. Forcing yourself to resist even though you can feel that his dick is so fucking erect... You try to keep your words plain and direct. “Now that I’m not just a pathetic little prospect, don’t you think maybe you should show my ass some damn respect?”
As soon as you’ve said it, you realize that you probably shouldn’t have used the word ‘ass’ in that sentence. But you had. And Jax makes sure to take advantage of that fact.
“You want me to respect your ass?” he suggestively asks, moving in close to you before you can even attempt to step further back. “Well, with an ass looking like that, what’d you expect?”
Ugh—why does he insist on relentlessly fucking you up? You try to push him off. “Jax, just stop...”
He pulls you close again and interrupts. “Y/N, listen—I know I’ve been treating you bad, and I get that you’re mad. And you have every right to be. It’s just that...” his voice trails softly, quietly, as he pushes you up against the bar, not even caring if the whole room sees how fucking close you are, “...after the shit that happened, I thought I could try to pretend. To deny what I want. Keep up the act of the cold heartless President I’m always trying to be. But I can’t. Understand?”
... Understand? No, you don’t. You blink up in silence at this glorious god of a man. What does he really want...?
And so he goes on. “Ever since then, I haven’t stopped thinking about you, Y/N. Not for one fucking minute,” he boldly continues, his heated confession infused with such passion you almost believe that it’s true. Very nearly convincing you, somehow. “I mean it. I mean—shit, every time I see you now, I can’t stop staring at your mouth. Thinking about my dick in it.”
Well, at least that you can believe. You remember the look on his face, so aroused and amazed, and the stars in his gaze when you’d swallowed him down all the way. The way he’d groaned and heaved, just before you allowed him to fucking explode. Jax had looked so euphoric when blowing his load, like his dick had found heaven deep down in your throat, never wanted to leave...
“Want you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone. It scares the shit out of me, honestly—but now I’m finally done trying to hide,” he declares, burning holes through your soul with the heat of his stare, till you’re totally wrecked. And with the words that he says next, you’re pretty sure you’ve died. “Tonight... I think it’s time you take this big dick for a ride.”
***************
Thanks to those words knocking you dead, you can’t remember when and how you ended up in Jax’s bed. 
He threw you over his shoulder, you’re pretty sure. Hauled you up to his dorm, barged through the door, manhandling you like a whore. It’s all a blur, raw hormones raging up a storm. He needs you now, as much as you need him. Or even more, somehow. True to form, the President takes on his role as your complete and utter dom, now that he has you in his room. He owns your whole entire ass, without a doubt.
“This ass is fucking mine,” he rasps, throwing you facedown on the mattress and attacking you with feral hands, forcefully yanking down your pants. Taking your bare cheeks in his grasp. His dominance feels so divine. “God, look at that. So fucking hot. So fucking perfect. Wanted this so bad, ever since the day we met. You said you wanted me to show it some respect?”
His palm comes down against your naked skin, with a delicious little smack that stings like hell, pleasure and pain pairing so well. Heaven-sent sin. His touch upon your cheeks makes you so weak. Can’t even speak. Jax hasn’t even fucked you yet and it’s already the best sex you’ve ever had. You need his big fat dick inside of you so fucking bad...
“Tell me, bitch,” he mutters, bending down over your body, tearing off your kutte and shirt and biting at your shoulder, every move he makes a hundred shades of naughty. Grazing his savage hands over your ass as his touch makes you shudder and twitch. “Still want respect? Or is this perfect ass of yours desperate to get fucking wrecked?”
Though you’re incapable of speech right now, you manage to form words somehow, when you feel him reach down to spread your legs. You moan and groan out loud, breathless. “Fuck yes—fucking destroy me, Jax...!” you beg.
Next thing you know he’s naked too, hot sweaty skin sliding against you, smooth and slick. Good God, he moves so fucking quick. “This tight ass ready for my dick? You ever taken anything so big?”
No point in answering that question—um, of course you haven’t. But the thought of Jax’s massive shaft splitting your ass in half sounds like complete heaven.
“Don’t wanna break you yet...” he says, shifting in one swift motion till he’s on the bottom, holding you firmly in place in top of him. Looking up at you with his trademark cocky grin, hands all over your heated skin. “First time I’ve got you in my bed—if I destroy your ass, it’ll be the last. We can’t have that.”
“I want it, Jax...” you gasp, a total mess as you reach to caress the sculpted muscles of his chest.
“I know,” he laughs, dealing your ass a playful slap. “Of course that’s what you want, you greedy little slut. Just gonna take it nice and slow.”
“But—ohhh....” you moan, realizing what he means all of a sudden, as he starts to dominate you from the bottom. 
“Mmm, there we go,” Jax goads you on. Keeping a tight grip on your hips, he guides you into position on top of him—on instinct, you reach down to grab his delicious dick, lining it up with your hole. A cry of bliss leaps from your lips, as your ass finally comes in contact with his cock, wet with the precum leaking from the tip. It feels so fucking beautiful. Won’t even need to be lubed up because he’s wet as fuck.
You take your time easing yourself down onto his enormous length, which takes a lot of self-restraint. You want him all the way; you crave the pain. But like he said, this is your first time in his bed. Jax Fucking Teller knows his size and strength. He doesn’t want tonight to leave your poor ass torn to shreds. Not yet.
“You look so fucking gorgeous like that,” he says, gazing up at your face, knowing his praises always get you good and wet. “Sitting down on this big juicy cock. So damn desperate to get fucked.”
In the state that you’re in, descending on his dick and ascending to heaven, you can’t even say much. “Jax... ughhh...”
Soon enough, you finally have him buried in your ass balls deep, and it feels so painfully good that you might just collapse in a heap.
You do your best to hold yourself up; Jax’s dominant hands and his calming words help you to do your damn job. “That’s a good little bitch. Nice and steady. Stay with me. You ready? I don’t want you missing a second of this.”
Then he starts thrusting upwards, all slowly and gently at first, and you find yourself grinding back down on him, hips moving in an instinctual rhythm. Feels so good that you’re sure all your insides are going to burst. And you love how it hurts. You’ve lost conscious control of your limbs, but your body apparently knows how to do its own thing. Always knows how to follow the lead of your king.
Jax looks so fucking pleased as he lies back admiring the view.
“Now put your kutte back on, why don’t you. Told you nobody wears leather like you do,” he suggests, smiling as you obediently grab the vest that he’d recently stripped off of you and flung onto the mattress. You’ve always wanted him to fuck you in this kutte, make you his dirty little slut. Just like he’d said back at the party. “Yeah, just like that, Y/N. Go on and start my fucking engine. Ride me like a Harley.”
And those words are all you need to fucking hear. You grab hold of his broad muscular shoulders, anchoring you as you steer; Jax wraps his arms around your back to pull you closer, bring you near. So you can listen to the filthy shit he whispers in your ear. Reminding you that you’re his dirty little whore, and that his big cock is all yours. You hear him loud and fucking clear. And you want time to stop right fucking here.
You may have started as a lowly little prospect, crushing on the President... but now you’ve earned a lot more than respect. You’ve earned the right to take his big dick for a ride, to feel him driving all the way inside, splitting your tight hole open wide. Tonight and every night. And it feels fucking perfect. Better than you’d ever dreamed, filling you up until you’re bursting at the seams, more than you could’ve ever asked.
This is the first time Jax is fucking your ass—it’s hands down the best sex, the best ride of your life... but it sure as hell won’t be the last.
***************
Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did! ✨
If you’d like to read another fic that I’ve written with Jax and a gender-neutral reader, I’d recommend Make It Rain! 💦
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maybebanks · 4 years
Text
Love, Not War
JJ Maybank x pogue! reader
based on outerbanks episode The Forbidden Zone where Rafe and Topper jump Y/n and Pope on a grocery run. If only it was possible to keep JJ from finding out
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⚠️: assault and swearing
“Y/n what do you say?” Pope encouraged. He gave you an awkward smile, as his dad handed him a grocery bag for each hand.
“Sure, why not,” you shrugged, hopping on to Heyward boat.
“I promised delivery by this afternoon. Thanks, Y/n,” Heyward smiled.
“If she’s going then I’m comin’ too,” JJ added reaching out to Heyward as he gave JJ two bags, JJ lazily dropped them as if they were heavy.
“Rich people don’t want to wait for you lazy sons of.. Aw, thank you, JJ,” Heyward said sarcastically.
You rolled your eyes at JJ, he just smirked.
“Great,” you groaned.
“What? You think I’d let you get all the sweet tips?” JJ defended, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest.
You pushed him back, “get off of me. I’m sick of you following me around. I can literally never catch a break,”
JJ looked slightly offended, but he brushed it off, “I’m not following you. I just need the cash. Chill,”
“Pope?” You asked, “let’s get a move on,” you tried to ignore JJ. But you felt him closing in on you at any moment of independence. John B kept telling you that JJ just wanted to protect you. You had no idea why, and when you confronted JJ about it he just denied.
When you arrived at a Figure Eight dock, JJ hopped off and held out a hand for you, you reluctantly accepted.
“Alright so, there’s a few deliveries my dad already completed...” Pope mumbled.
JJ interrupted, “Just get on with it Pope, where do you want Y/n and I to deliver-“
“Wait hold up! I’m not going with you,” you said to JJ.
“Why not?” he asked, completely surprised.
“I’m going with Pope. We’ll take the golf course route, right? The one that we did last week,” you mentioned.
Pope nodded, “sure, Y/n,”
“Awe come on...Fine,” JJ groaned, “your loss,”
You felt relieved as you grabbed a carton of milk and a bag of groceries. Pope nodded you over to him and you both split off from JJ, saluting him goodbye.
You and Pope walked for about five minutes, “it doesn’t even look like the storm hit here,”
“Lucky kooks,” you muttered.
Before Pope could agree, you heard the all to familiar taunting of Rafe Cameron.
“Hey, what’s up guys? Y/n, lookin’ hot as ever! And Pope, why don’t you share some of those beers!” Rafe shouted. Approaching the both of you with Topper.
You and Pope tried to walk past them, but they blocked your path with their golf clubs, “how much for one of those beers?” Rafe chuckled, but he was serious.
When you opened your mouth, it was dry, and you couldn’t make a snarkey comeback.
“They’re not for sale,” Pope told them stepping back.
Rafe smirked and eyes you up and down. You ignored him and tried to continue walking.
Rafe then grabbed your shoulders, “Wait, wait, wait.”
“Rafe, we don’t want any trouble,” you said, pushing his hands off.
He scoffs, “don’t want any trouble? You here that, Top? Pogue Princess doesn’t want trouble!” Rafe joked. He called you pogue princess as a nickname since grade school.
“I’m serious, get out of our way,” you ordered, clinging tight to the bags of groceries in your hands.
“We just want some beers,” Topper said, pulling on what Pope was holding.
“These are already paid for!” Pope argued as he struggled with Topper.
Topper yanked them away from him, sending Pope tumbling in the sand, “you guys are frickin crazy!” He shouted.
“Pope!” You exclaimed as you stepped foreward to help him. As you reached over, Rafe stepped infront of you and swung his golf club in the air.
You flinched at the fact that he almost hit you and lost balance, falling away from Pope on the sand.
Rafe’s club collided with Popes back, and he yelled in pain.
Quickly you got up, “stop it, you asshole!” You screamed at Rafe, punching him in the face from the side.
He was taken aback for sure, but not harmed enough, “you think you can order us around, on our turf, pogue!”
He turned and shoved your shoulders, pushing you to the ground.
Then he stood over you, a foot on either side of your waist.
You groaned in pain as his shadow towered over you, “I never thought I’d get this chance,” he mumbled, looking down at you, studying your every feature.
You ignored him, looking over at Pope, topper wasn’t beating him anymore, but there was blood in his mouth.
While you were distracted, Rafe started to make a pass at you, his hands moved up your shirt, and groped your chest.
You squirmed, “what the-“ you fought against him. Creating a small wave of dust from the sand.
Rafe’s large hand caressed your cheek, “It’s gonna feel so good to get with Maybank’s girl,”
“Wha- I’m not his you bastard!” You screamed, punching his leg.
He laughed, then got down to his knees, trapping you beneath him.
“Get off!” You screamed, shoving against his shoulders. Rafe grabbed your wrists and pinned them by the sides of your head.
“Dirty ass pogue,” he spit.
“Shit!” Topper noticed your screaming and was surprised by what Rafe was doing, “Dude, what are you doing, man?!”
“Just...” he breathed, “having fun with my favorite Pogue!” He chuckled, moving one hand to lift your shirt.
You felt sick as the material slid up your waist.
“Rafe,” Topper said uneasily, “Rafe, man, knock it off!”
Rafe didn’t listen, and Pope was now starting to force himself to stand.
“Come on! Let’s go Rafe! Seriously!” Topper exclaimed.
Rafe looked at you again, then he scratched his neck and spit right down on you. And slowly stood up, joining Topper and grabbing his club.
“We don’t want you over here. You got that? Stay off figure eight pogues!” Rafe ordered, chuckling as Topper continued to tell him it was time to leave.
“See ya!” Rafe shouted, heading up the hill.
Topper was breathing heavily, he stared at you, still on the floor, as you fixed your shirt.
His mouth parted as if he was going to say something.
“Top, let’s go! Hey, let’s go!” Rafe shouted.
You struggled to control your breathing.
Topper glanced at Pope again before leaving. When they were finically out of sight, you got up to see Pope.
His cries were in pain and he was still lying on his back, you grabbed his head and told him to spit the blood out.
“Hey, hey it’s okay. You’ll be okay,” you grabbed his hat and put it on his head, then slowly helped him stand.
“Let’s just go home,” Pope said, putting his arm around you as you helped him walk back to the dock.
You were every bit as traumatized as him, but your solution was to bury it deep. Try not to dwell on it, at least until the time came. This wasn’t the best method to deal with your pain, but it was better than having everyone know about the sick bullshit you just went through.
You and Pope got to the boat, he sat in the drivers seat. Just staring off straight into space.
“Hey, start the boat,” you mentioned.
He didn’t want to talk much, “JJ,” was all he said.
“Shit,” you muttered. You didn’t want to see JJ right now. There were so many reasons.
“Pope, hey, Pope. You can’t tell JJ about this. Please. Okay? None of the Pogues. Not Kie or John B either,” you rambled.
Pope didn’t answer, but before you could insist, you flinched at the sudden sound of yelling.
“Y/n! Pope! You’re not going to belive what just happened to me! Whoo! That was the best 100 bucks I’ve ever made! When I say count me in on all these grocery deliveries, Pope, I mean it,” JJ exclaimed happily. He winked when he saw you sitting in the back, you just pursed your lips in response.
“What’s up with you?” JJ asked when Pope didn’t answer, “Bro, you good?”
Your heart ached to say something, to tell Pope to keep his mouth shut. But would that make you look even more suspicious?
JJ looked at you, and then back at Pope, leaning in closer and inspecting him, “Yo,” he paused, “what happened to your face, dude,” JJ asked, then he reached for Popes hat, covering part of the damage.
Pope tried to stop him, but JJ saw enough, “Jesus!” JJ expressed, looking at you now.
“What happened?” JJ demanded.
Pope’s eyes remained on the water.
JJ clenched his jaw. Looking from you to Pope again and again.
Before you could lie, say something, anything, Pope deadpanned, “Rafe and Topper jumped me,”
JJ looked back, his jaw still clenched. You could tell he was angry, “Did they get Y/n?” He asked Pope.
“They said no pogues on their side of the island,” Pope said, steering the boat towards home.
JJ scoffed, “Y/n are ya hurt?” JJ asked, stepping closer.
“No. I’m fine JJ. Back off,” you warned, getting up and moving to the open part of the boat.
JJ felt defeated, and angry, “you better not lie to me Y/n!” He shouted at you.
“Lie to you?! You’re the fucking liar!!” You screamed, only part of your volume getting lost in the wind.
“Me? ‘Fuck did I do?!” JJ shouted.
“If you hadn’t pulled that gun...” Pope started.
“You seriously gonna blame this shit on me! Yo, Topper was gonna drown-“ JJ retaliated.
Pope interrupted him, “Look, were not gonna talk about this now,”
JJ clenched his jaw, “This is war.”
You could’ve argued with JJ more, you wanted to know what he had done to convince Rafe that you were “Maybank’s girl”, but you closed the bottle your emotions lived in, and were silent the whole rest of the day.
-
You took a deep breath as you stared at JJ across from you.
The earlier events were playing in your mind like an endless loop. You knew Rafe’s motivation for doing it, but why did he call you “Maybank’s girl”? Why did he have to bring JJ into it? Did it have anything to do with the fact that recently JJ has been hovering over you like-
“Y/n what is up with you?” John B asked you as you sat on his couch, watching the pogues talk about whatever they usually did.
You shrugged, taking a drag of a blunt JJ made.
“Maybe JJ knows,” Kie suggests, tapping John B on the shoulder.
“Ugh,” you groaned, there was so much you wanted to say to JJ, or yell at him.
“JJ?” John B asked, pointing to you.
“Beats me. She’s been acting like a bitch ever since...uh ever since she called me a liar. She’s the one who’s lying! I mean look at her! Telling us she’s fine,” JJ tells him.
“God, JJ! You are such an asshole!” You screamed, getting up and throwing your hot blunt right at him.
“Jes- What the fuck? You can’t just throw a lit blunt at me!” JJ shouted.
“And YOU can’t go around telling people I belong to you!” You shouted, instantly regretting what you said.
“What the hell is happening?” Kiara pointed out.
“Who the fuck told you that?” JJ questioned, slightly softer now.
“No one. Whatever. I’m leaving,” you stated, heading towards the door.
“You’re just gonna walk away?!” JJ shouted.
“Yeah I am! I can’t deal with you right now,” you groaned, opening the door.
Instantly, JJ was beside you, he slammed the door closed, preventing you from leaving, “we need to talk,” he said.
“No we don’t. Let me go,” you pleaded, “I don’t have anything to say to you,”
JJ scoffed, looking away from you for support from the rest of the group.
“Y/n he’s gonna find out soon enough...” Pope interjected.
“Pope! Shut your mouth.” You demanded, at this, pope adjusted his hat in nervousness.
Kie looked at you with frustration, “stop taking out whatever your going through on us!”
“Fine! I’ll leave!” You exclaimed.
Shoving JJ harshly off of the door.
Taken aback, he stumbled. He looked extremely hurt, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You opened the door, slamming it on the way out, and left the chateau.
-
You stopped at the pantry and grabbed something to drink before heading up to your room.
You were mad and needed to blow off some steam, being home alone helped that.
You sauntered up the stairs and opened the door to your room, it was dark in there so you turned backwards and found the light switch.
When you turned around, you practically screamed when you saw JJ on your bed.
“What the fuck,” you muttered, annoyed.
“I thought we needed to talk,” JJ started.
“Yeah and you also thought 9+10 was 19,” you joked, groaning as you collapsed on the bed next to where JJ was.
“Y/n I’m serious,” JJ added.
“So am I.” You responded.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s...what you meant before,” JJ stuttered, he didn’t really know exactly what he expected from this.
“You’re not listening,” you mumble.
“Fine. I’ll listen,”
“Okay. Then go. Leave me alone. I don’t need this. I’m sick of it. And you’re the fucking reas...okay just um please leave,”
“I’m not going to let you push us away. I’m staying. And I’ll be here, if you’ll talk to me,” JJ said kindly. He was almost pleading.
“I’m scared.” You blurted.
JJ’s eyebrows furrowed, “scared of what?”
You sat up, looking at the floor, “um..how you’ll react,”
“Y/n. What is it you need to tell me,” JJ says.
“Look...uh...have you been telling kooks that we’re dating, that I’m yours?” you asked, staring him directly in the eyes.
JJ broke the eye contact, “I thought...uh..I thought it would keep them off your back,”
“What?! Oh my god I’m gonna kill you! You’re such an idiot!” You groaned.
“Why?” He added a slight chuckle, “it worked didn’t it?”
You frowned, at that’s when JJ knew. Something was more wrong than what he thought.
“Who? Was it Rafe? It was wasn’t it! Today, with Pope! Rafe fucking hit you didn’t he!”
“JJ! Calm down! He didn’t,” you told him.
“No use in lying.” JJ stated.
“He just said some things. That’s all! I swear,” you plead.
“What’d he say? Hm?” JJ asked, clearly provoked.
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you...”
“See the thing is...you didn’t fucking tell me anything!” JJ exclaimed.
“Fine! Okay. Calm down though,”
JJ nodded.
“He said “it’s gonna feel so good...to get with Maybank’s girl.” I- Idon’t know I don’t really remember,” you told JJ.
JJs mind went to all sorts of places, was it his fault. It was a protective mechanism, telling those kooks that you were his. But turns out it was just a way to get a rise out of him.
He could feel his heart rate quicken.
“JJ, hey, JJ please calm down. I’m right here. He didn’t get me. Topper didn’t let him,” you said.
“So...so he would’ve...he would’ve uh...” JJ trailed off, almost loosing breath, “Y/n he’s gonna pay for that. This war is not fucking over,”
“No. No JJ. Please stop. He didn’t do it. So you don’t have to worry. This isn’t an excuse to start another battle. You need to be done,” you demanded.
“I’m not going to be done! He tried! And I wasn’t there! I’m always there! And yet he still found a way,”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” you suggested.
JJ took a sharp deep breath, “so what are you saying? You don’t want me around?”
“JJ...” you trailed off.
You saw JJ’s eyes water, he then blinked rapidly, and threw his red hat over his head as a distraction.
Once he blinked all the tears away, he stood up.
“Wait...don’t-don’t leave,” you sighed, grabbing his bicep gently.
“I have something to do anyway,” he shrugged your hand off, walking out the door.
You wanted to say something again, to call after him, but the only sound that came out was a sob. And you fell to the floor, a hand pressed against the cold bedroom door.
-
JJ could only hear his footsteps as he walked against the pavement, or rather, individually arranged stones, it was a kook house after all.
JJs mind wasn’t clear, he didn’t exactly know why he was at Toppers door. He just hoped he could get more of an explanation than he did from you.
Toppers mother answered the door, “Can I help you?” She asked impatiently.
“I need to talk to Topper. Is he home?” JJ asked.
The woman eyed him up and down. Judging his outfit and his demeanor.
“I will send him out,” she muttered, slight disgust in her tone.
JJ shuffed in his boots while he waited. And when the door opened again, and he saw Toppers gelled blond head, his eyes lit up.
“What do you want?” Topper demanded, his arms folded over his chest, “you got a lot of nerve comin’ here, man,”
“We need to talk. You need to tell me exactly what the hell happened to Y/n today,” JJ asserted.
“Aw look dude, I had no idea Rafe was gonna do that, man. I swear on my life,” Topper assured.
“What. Happened.” JJ persisted.
“Rafe just got on top of her and shit. She was violated for sure. But I stopped him before he did anything serious,” Topper explained.
“So...uh...you stopped him from touching her?” JJ asked, surprising Topper by how much he cared.
“Yeah man, I know she’s like your girl and stuff, Rafe was being a dick honestly,”
“This kind of thing won’t happen again,” JJ threatened, before quickly turning his back and leaving The Eight.
-
JJ sat on a rock near the swampy wasteland John B’s place over looked.
Kie approached him, “hey...I know things are not going well with Y/n. And I know you love her-“
“I don’t want to hear it Kiara. I just want to think,”
“About what?”
“About what I’m going to say to Y/n. I don’t even know where to start. I mean..do I apologize? And for what?”
“Oh,” Kie paused, “I think you should just be there for her. Don’t push her, just be yourself. But you know...less um protective,”
“I don’t want her to tell me what to do. I know if I go over there she’s gonna try and stop me from kicking Rafe’s ass,” JJ groans.
“Maybe she has a good reason,” Kie supported.
“Just talk to her, okay? Just be there for her. She needs you,”
“She doesn’t make it seem that way,” JJ groaned.
“It’s because she’s a lot like you. Hiding her pain. You’re the perfect person for her. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
510 notes · View notes
girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years
Text
Lilies of the Valley I
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A/B/O!BTS x Reader
Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower’s shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.
Chapter One: Hatred & Pride
“Lilies are considered a beautiful, popular flower but the orange variations actually symbolize hatred, pride, and disdain.”
Release Date: 05/18/20 @ 7 pm
next
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 YN stumbled haphazardly into her apartment, as she tried to kick off heels and steer her way into her apartment's small bathroom. In her hand lay a crumpled up business card that scorched her skin, yet she couldn't let go of it. As she reached the bathroom, she flickered the yellow lighting on and stared at herself in the dirty mirror. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged making her resemble a panda, a frown etched between her brows, and colored lips turned downward. It was not her wretched appearance that had her sorrowful, but rather the bite that was visible right where her neck met her shoulder. It looked fresh, harsh red marks that displayed to the world that she was taken. "What a fucking lie."
She took off her makeup and jumped into the shower scrubbing off every trace she could of the alpha. Not wanting his scent permeating on her body any longer, then it would truly prove people's perception of her to be true. A small ding as she was exiting the shower alerted her towards her phone.
           Mark Lee: Sorry about how I acted. I just don't understand, but I don't think we should see each other anymore.
"Great," YN grumbled. There went another one that she'd managed to drive away. It would be a lot easier if she could simply date someone like her - not that it would ever be allowed. Still, there would be less judgment and she wouldn't have to feel like a let down to society or her family every time a holiday passed and she failed to present with a mate. "Fuck society." Though truly it was more like fuck Jeon Jungkook. None of this would've happened if it weren't for the alpha and his hormones. Truly none of this would've happened if his mates kept a tighter grip on the newly presenting alpha, but she couldn't blame the others for his mistake.
           On second thought, fuck them all. Why the fuck are sub-genders a thing anyway? This wasn't the first time said thoughts had filled her head. Presenting as an Omega in a family full of beta's had been difficult, not to mention the events that followed afterward. YN dragged her feet into her bed, thankful for once that she lived in such a small apartment that things were never so far apart. Though her current apartment was about the size of the kitchen in her parent's home, she couldn't complain. Few people rented unmated omegas. She was lucky that her landladies were two female betas with small children. YN doesn’t have anything against alphas but she’s aware enough to know how they perceive her: a means to an end rather than a human being. Or half of one at the very least.
           Her cell phone screen lit up again, but YN was far too tired to check it. Until it stayed on as a plethora of messages appeared. Rolling her eyes, YN grabbed her phone and unlocked it planning to send to hell whoever sent so many messages this late at night.
           Unknown: Please consider it.
           Unknown: I know you blame me for a lot of things and it is my fault, but I’d like to fix things.
           Unknown: or help at the very least.
           Unknown: Please just answer me.
           Unknown: I’m very sorry. You know I am. It was a mistake, I was presenting and couldn’t control myself. Please YN.
           Unknown: You’re my mate.
YN slammed her phone down on her bed with tears in her eyes. She regretted ever going on the date tonight, regretted ever meeting Jungkook, regretted presenting as an Omega. YN regretted being alive. She knew others felt the same way, she'd seen the look in her father's eyes when he had gone to the police station. None of this would've ever happened if she were a beta. YN would be able to get a good education, a good job, a decent place to live. She wouldn't be treated like a third-class citizen because of her sub-gender - she would just be YN. The way she'd been in school before all this happened. The way she spent seventeen years of her life living. Sobs racked throughout her body and she bit into her arm to keep the sound from reaching her neighbors. She didn't want to get into any more trouble tonight.  
           Exhaustion eventually won over and YN slipped into a restless sleep, plagued by the events of her past and the ones that occurred a few hours earlier.
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          “So there was nothing you did in high school? No clubs or anything like that?”
YN shook her head, shrugging slightly. "I helped some teachers, dabbled in a couple of things but wasn't like the head cheerleader or class president." Tentatively she reached for her drink, making sure Mark didn't notice her smelling it for anything. It wasn't that he wasn't nice, but one could never be too careful. Mark laughed, "Alright you got me there, but I'll let you know the only reason I became class president is that I promised I'd get us a pool."
           “How did that work out?”
           “Terrible. The school was convinced our stupid asses would drown or something. Can’t say it wasn’t true.”
           YN giggled, taking another bite of her food. Mark was cute and he seemed aware of things, enough to not try too hard. He hadn’t asked to pick her up or asked about exes, he’d agreed to meet at the restaurant and even arrived early. Then again it might also be because they have a friend in between and it was Rosé who’d set them up together. “So YN what school did you go to?” Mark leaned forward resting his face in his hands. The warm lighting in the restaurant cast a nice glow on his features, it made him look more attractive. Or perhaps the alcohol had finally set in.
           “I went to Yeong-gwang Academy.” As soon as YN uttered the name Mark’s eyes widened exponentially. “No way, I’ve heard about that school. Isn’t it like a rich kid central or something? Wait didn’t you go to school with the Kims?!” It was an involuntary reaction the way she shivered whenever she heard that name, but her date must not have noticed. He stood waiting for her confirmation and all it took was a curt nod, for the man to begin rambling about all the rumors he’d heard over the years. It was difficult to keep up with them all, but she did manage to correct a few.
           “Haven’t you guys been ranked number one school in Korea for like thirty years or something?”
           “I think it’s only twenty.”
           “I heard all your sports teams are national champions.”
           “We only really had like five or so.”
           “Don’t you have the largest private collection of flowers in Asia?!”
           “Um, it’s Lilies and I think that’s an exaggeration.”
On and on it went, YN was now beginning to regret opening her mouth. She'd heard of Academy fans before, but it was mainly people who wanted to go there and couldn't or alumni. The way Mark spoke about it made her seem like she was an olympiad or a part of history. The date was drawing to an end, YN couldn't help but feel disappointed but it could have gone worse. Mark could have seen her mark and it would've caused conflict, hearing the boy ramble about her school was the lesser of the two evils.  
           It was when YN lifted her drink to her lips that she sensed it. A hint of musk and the smell of fresh linen, she couldn’t explain how she knew it was him. It was almost instinctual the fear that spread throughout her. As discreetly as she could, YN cast a glance around the room trying to find him almost exhaling with relief when she didn’t. It’s probably a mistake.
           “Hey isn’t that Kim Jungkook right there?”
It was said a little too loudly, just enough that YN knew he'd heard it. It didn't take long for her to feel eyes peering at her, goosebumps rose through her arms. Her bite began to throb and YN could feel her heart skip a beat. Mark's eyes focused on him and eventually crawled up, letting her know the alpha was approaching. Now the scent hit her entirely, shaking her to her core. YN gripped the table to steady herself but found that near impossible when the alpha kept sending his pheromones at her.  
"Does there seem to be a problem here?" His voice had deepened over the years, no longer the voice of a teenager but that of a man.
"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to call your name so loudly. Um, I'm Mark Lee. A pleasure to meet you." Mark turned his attention towards YN expecting her to acknowledge Jungkook or greet him as a classmate. YN couldn't. She couldn't look at him. It didn't help that there was a tense atmosphere between the two, the tension was palpable and it seemed Mark had enough.
           “Aren’t you going to greet him, YN?”
           Greet the man responsible for everything wrong in my life, sure. Yn’s eyes trailed upwards from the table to Jungkook’s face until her warm eyes met his golden ones. As YN parted her lips to speak, she felt it: the heat spreading throughout her body. An uncontrollable feeling that raked throughout her body. The fucker was trying to trigger a pseudo-heat. Instantly YN’s grip tightened on the table, her fingertips becoming white as she fought with nature to keep control over herself.
           “Do you two know each other?” It seems Mark was catching on and truly she couldn’t blame him if he misunderstood. She would too if the roles were reversed. Suddenly Jungkook turned to face Mark, holding his hand out to greet him.
           “I’m Kim Jungkook, her mate.”
"What?! No, he isn't. Don't listen to him, Mark." Her outcry had caused quite a few patrons to turn her way, now all paying close attention to what was happening.
"Uh -" Jungkook quickly interceded whatever Mark was going to say. "Did you not notice her mark? Or do you make a habit of seeking mated people?" At this a few people gasped, Mark looked between the two of them confused. YN snapped, "It's a partial bond. It was never completed so it doesn't mean anything." Her words only confused Mark even more. Whispers from surrounding tables began to reach her ears and it only fueled YN's rage more. This was all a big misunderstanding, but Jungkook was thriving off it. Mark and YN's eyes met as she silently pleaded with him to listen to her.
"Hey beta," Jungkook snapped his fingers together, "look at me." YN should've known she'd lost then and there. As a beta, it was impossible to resist the order of alpha, not to mention one that exuded the stench that Jungkook did.
           “You know who I am right?” Mark nodded, eyes wide as if aiming to please. “Then you know don’t you? You know…” When Mark looked back at her, there was sympathy in his eyes. “I’m sorry YN.” was all the beta said before standing up and walking away. YN had so many things to say, so many more explanations, but they all died in her tongue.
           Jungkook tsked, “What an asshole. Could’ve at least paid for the meal.” That was the final strand for YN, she gathered her stuff and threw all the money she had down on the table. Walking fast out of the restaurant trying to avoid the judgemental stares directed towards her, she swore some people hissed at her under their breaths. Once outside YN leaned against the side entrance of the restaurant trying to steady her breath and stop the incoming tears.
"YN. Hey!" Jungkook raced out the front, staring around panicked until his gaze landed on her. YN tried to walk away, but his long legs gave him an advantage and he reached her in a few steps. "Please YN. I'm sorry, I just- I couldn't control myself." YN rolled her eyes, trying to push the alpha aside.  
           “No please YN look.” His hands gripped her forearms and tugged her close to him. “I’ve been trying to find you, we’ve been trying to find you. But you disappeared off the map.”
           “That’s because of you. I left because of you.” YN tried to get him to release her arms, but his hold was too tight. “Wasn’t it enough for you? Isn’t it enough for you? You ruined my life and my reputation Jungkook. The least you could do is leave me alone.” She was begging at this point, trying to make him see reason.
           “I can’t leave you alone, YN. You’re my mate.”
           “You already have mates Jungkook. Fucking six of them! How could you want more?!”
           “It isn’t like that and you know it. You’re all our mates. You're the pack omega, you just don’t see it yet.”
           This wasn’t the first time Jungkook had tried to excuse his behavior by using the pack bond. Yes, it was true all seven of them shared it but that didn’t mean she did too. “Omega’s don’t have the pack bond, Jungkook. Stop trying to lie.” YN couldn’t see what he gained from this.
           “I’m not lying. It’s rare but it happens, please if you just speak to Namjoon you’ll see-”
           “Leave me alone Jungkook.” YN mustered all her strength and managed to finally push him off. The alpha looked shocked at her display of aggression, YN strongly desired to hit him but knew it wouldn’t end well if she triggered his instincts. “I’d rather die alone than be mated to you.” YN could see the spear driven through the boy’s heart because she felt something similar go through hers. YN let out a shaky breath, she leaned over resting on her knees for fear of falling over.
"I get it. I'm sorry, I ruined your date. I embarrassed you in front of all those people and that wasn't right. I'm sorry YN, I truly am. For everything, I've ever done to you. But it doesn't change the truth. You know this isn't something I can lie about: you are my mate. Our mate."
YN groaned and went to walk away, knowing that there wouldn't be an end to Jungkook's madness. As she walked past the shaken alpha, he grasped her hand placing something in it. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate, please." YN didn't even spare him a look as she walked away. It wasn't until she could no longer smell him that YN broke down, her body shaking as she tried to hold it all in. She was still in a public place and a vulnerable omega might draw unwanted attention. YN took a deep breath and steadied herself. Heading straight to her apartment and refusing to look back.
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           A loud abrupt ringing awoke YN from her sleep, she jumped so high she practically touched the ceiling. Grabbing the phone, she saw Rosé’s contact picture pop-up on the screen. It was rare for her to call, especially since it was nearly six a.m.
           “Hey.”
           “YN? Oh my god.” Rosé’s tone was panicked and YN could hear the way she panted. “Someone broke into my apartment while I was sleeping.”
           “What?! Are you alright?!” YN jumped out of bed and raced to put on pants and hoodie, before grabbing her keys and wallet. “Where are you?”
           “I’m at the police station. I couldn’t see very clearly, but they’re looking at security cam footage from around the area to figure out who it is.”
           “I’m on my way. Did you call Lucas?” Lucas was Rosé’s foster sibling, his husband worked in the police and was certain to make the whole process smoother.
           Rosé hesitated, “He isn't answering. Please come, I’m here alone and I-”
           “It’s alright I’ll be there soon I promise.” YN had managed to wave down a cab and told him to drive as quickly as he could.
The sight of her best friend in tears triggered something innate in YN. She pulled Rosé into a hug and refused to let her go, terrified at the thought of what could have happened to her friend. "It's alright, I'm here." Rosé dug her head into YN's neck using her scent to calm her nerves and trying to muffle her cries. Already she could feel the sympathetic stares of some of the officers. Out of the corner of her eye, YN saw someone approaching his bloodshot eyes, and the tall way in which he stood made it seem like he owned the place.
"I told you to call your mate, not your girlfriend." He remarked voice dull yet mocking. Rosé stepped away from YN turning towards him, "I don't have a mate and my brother isn't answering." Her tone was meek and eyes were downcast, YN knew she wasn't a confrontational person and this event likely further caused her to become more introverted. The cop rolled his eyes, "Where is your mate then?" He turned his attention towards YN, now she could see the name inscribed on his uniform: Officer Hwang. "I don't have one." Her tone was too blunt, YN knew she could see the way his eyebrows raised at it.
           “Don’t lie to me, I can see your mark.”
           “I don’t have a mate.”
Annoyance was now visible in Hwang's tone before his eyes widened. "Ah, now I get it." The officer turned back towards one of his colleagues and called out, "Bo, it seems we have a cat house on our hands." Rosé's eyes widened and YN spoke quickly, words tumbling out of her mouth. "No. You're misunderstanding." Bo had already stood up from his desk and was making his way towards them.  
           “Ladies if you could please follow me.”
The two of them were talking over each other trying to explain the situation, but the officers had made up their minds about what was occurring. YN cast a glance around the room trying to find anyone who could help them, but everyone kept their eyes downward. They'd been titled as prostitutes and it would be difficult to change people's minds. Officer Bo guided them, pushed would've been a better term, towards the basement where the holding cells were.
           “Please sir, you’ve misunderstood.”
           Officer Hwang shrugged, a cruel smirk on his face. “Call your alpha then and everything will be solved.” YN resigned herself as they were dragged downstairs and locked up.
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Rosé and YN were separated in different cells while a guard stood watching. Tears streamed endlessly down her best friend's face, whilst YN told herself that hers were tears of frustration rather than humiliation at everything that had occurred tonight. Eventually, as they hit the two-hour mark the guard spoke up, "I'd call your mates if I were you. The boarding house bus swing's by at nine." Both omegas stilled in fear at his words. YN turned towards Rosé, "Ro can't you try your brother?" She was pleading with her friend, but Rosé shook her head. "He won't come." There was something she wasn't telling her, but YN figured now was not the moment to press it.
           “Don’t you know someone who can help YN? What about Mark?”
Mark would be no help, considering everything that went down at the date it would be a further embarrassment to ask him to come to pick her up at the station. If he even answered that is. Unless? No, there was no way. Her pride wouldn’t be able to take it.
            "Thirty minutes, girls."
It seemed as if fate was pushing her into a corner. YN had heard about what kind of things occurred to Omega's who were taken to the boarding house, it was not a nice place. It certainly didn't provide the comfort or protection that was promised to unmated troubled omegas. Hesitantly YN cleared her throat, "Can I please make a call?"
~ Please lmk if you would like to be added to the tag list. Thank you
1K notes · View notes
limenysnocket · 3 years
Text
Attention and Company
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I couldn't help myself. @honorarytenenbaum
Summary: Sometimes you need someone to chill with, and that's okay. Maybe that person is your boyfriend who also gets a little roughed up at work sometimes. Pubs can sustain you both for only so long, but what you really need is to curb yourselves in the mall parking lot, right next to a shaved ice food truck.
Warnings: Just some light swearing, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and some brief mentions to "raunchy" behavior. This is a soft fic for y'all tonight, out here needin' some gentle lovin'.
A/N: Got some lonely feelings right now. I just wanna hug someone, dude. Yo, we could totally watch a movie over discord sometime... maybe.
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Today sucked. Flat out. The bags under your eyes didn't lie, and now here you were, outside of your studio, sitting on the hood of your car, eating a granola bar to stave off hunger for a few more hours. Hopefully.
You pull your phone from your pocket, looking at the time for a moment, then looking at your screensaver. It was the only thing that could make you smile. You had your arm wrapped around one of your closets friends, Taika, and the phone didn't capture it, but he had his arm wrapped around your waist. His curls were all messed up, and the picture perfectly showed how drunk you both were by the fuzzy pink on your cheeks. It was 99 cent beer night at one of the local pubs, and unlike the first one held at a baseball game, all went well.
Of course, there was a limit to how much the two of you were allowed to drink, but that didn't stop the many failed attempts at stealing other people's drinks while they were looking away, just to get a taste more. Didn't matter that you guys were eventually thrown out of the bar for breaking rules and coming close to breaking a few faces, you had a great night.
That night also lead to a few other places, including his hotel room, but that end of the story has to be saved for another time.
Instead of staring at your phone for another century, you decide to unlock it and dial the man up. You knew he was somewhere around here, either charming his way onto another movie set to mess with his rich friends, or getting his tired ass kicked by daylight savings.
His number was saved to your favorites, so dialing him was quick and easy. The wait for him to pick up didn't last long either.
"Talk to me..."
God, his voice sounds like one big yawn. Looks like he needs a bit of perking up too.
"I've got two curbside tickets to eat a snow cone and watch kids do loops on their bikes in the parking lot. One of those tickets has your name on them," you grin, despite sounding exhausted too. The day really made you strain your voice.
His musical laughter really makes the sun look brighter from its low position in the sky.
"That's oddly specific... where would these magical tickets take me afterwards?" He had cocked his eyebrows up and leaned against his office door while he spoke to you.
"If this were a booty call, I would have told you already, Taik," you snort and tease him. "So, it's either make yourself fat on some weirdly flavored snow cone, or take your horny-ass home."
"Okay, okay... I'd like to make myself fat for a night, as long as your there," his voice is dreamy, desperate and warm. "You there already?"
"Nope," your lips pop the p, "but I'm nearby."
"I swear to God, if you're talking and driving, I'm gonna whoop your ass," Taika stood up, acting serious when he was just really worried about your safety in general.
"I'm not, I'm fine," you laugh again. "Not even in the car. Sitting on it though, trying to convince the world's sexiest man to go out with me again."
"And you said this wasn't a booty call," he retorts over the phone, making you playfully glare at the asphalt on the road. It's like he's in front of you.
"You coming or not?" you change the subject and you hear him laugh again, but softer.
"Yeah... I'll be there in a few minutes, gorgeous."
He always made goodbyes so easy. Maybe it was because you both knew you would be seeing each other again, no matter what circumstances you were thrown into. But the dial tone still had its effects.
You slip off the hood of your car, and take a seat in the driver's seat. The warm summer air makes your skin glow, and your brain went fuzzy only imagining it doing the same to Taika.
The drive feels so quiet. For a moment, you actually thought about calling him again, but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't pick up if he was driving.
As predicted, kids are zooming around on their bikes, showing off to their friends or trying to be cool, even though they all were obviously teary-eyed each time they scraped a knee. It was amusing to you and Taika, especially when some of the older boys would try to catch your attention and zip past you and Taika. It ended up being a heckle fest in the end, and some kid always went home with his butt hurt.
Keys and wallet in hand, you trek to the small, blue trailer tucked in the corner of the parking lot.
"Damn, you must have beat me here by just a few seconds," Taika calls, rustling his way through the small spaces between a couple of cars.
"Well, you've never been a speed demon type, so last place is your calling when it comes to racing," you guwaf and grin at him. He rolls his eyes and comes to walk right next to you.
"I pride myself on road safety," he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
You glance at him from the side, just to silently check up on him. His hair was tousled and his eyes were resteless. It looks like he had it rough from the start. He had struggled to get dressed this morning, but picked the most eccentric clothes in his closet to make up from his lack of sleep.
"Dare you to try the dill pickle flavor this time," his cocky tone wakes you up.
"Like hell I will," you snort as you finally reach the trailer, where a teen boy happily greets the both of you.
"Oh come on, it'll be funny," he eggs you on, his bottom lip pouting.
"Keep trying to make me get dill pickle, and the next time we have a movie night together, I'm getting the pizza," you sniff and he rolls his eyes. He thinks it is an odd threat. "And I'm making it all Hawaiian pizza." That got his attention.
"Bull shit, you would never. Not on a perfectly good pizza!" He gasps.
"Oh, just watch me, pineapple boy," you snicker and point to his pineapple print shorts. You break conversation to order two piña colada flavored snow cones. Taika usually took for-fucking-ever when it came to picking a single flavor, so ever since the second time you've been out here with him, he assigned you to choose for him. He usually got what you got.
Now, you wait.
You plop yourself down on the curb, as you promised, and he joined you with a long, loud groan. You give him a bewildered stare, wondering if his age had really gotten him this much. He smiles at you through a wince.
"Sat on my keys," he wheezes and chuckles at his own stupidity under his breath.
Your eyes float down to where he pulls out his keys and you start giggling quietly.
"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done the same thing," Taika says, not handling the fact that you have new material to mess with him, and also trying to get some stories out of you.
"Well yeah, but I don't sit down as violently as you do," you prod his bicep, and he laughs.
"Such a lady. Must sit down gracefully and slowly," he says, mocking an English accent, but he was horrible at accents so of course it was bad. You smack his bicep this time, and he playfully flinches, like it hurt.
"I really need to get you into some accent classes or some shit, before you get your teeth knocked out," you shake your head with a smile.
"What? I think I'm great at accents. My American accent is the best one yet, don't you think?" He smirks at you, and proceeds to demonstrate. "All you have to do is put an 'er' at the end of everything, right? That's totally how they speak around here."
"I would be careful, Mr. Waititi. Could get in some trouble if you say that too loudly," you roll your eyes, and he sighs. Yeah. Things were going to shit in LA. It was clear to everyone, but what could two hollywood producers do to stop things like that? Keep making films, you guess.
"Two, large piña coladas!"
You look up, and so does he.
"I'll get them," you volunteer, but he places his hand on your shoulder before you could get up.
"Let me," he speaks softly, in a damn near whisper.
He stands up and strides right over to the trailer with so much confidence, you're envious. He comes back with two large styrofoam cups in hand, spoons, and a warm smile. His smile was always warm. It set fire in your belly.
He sits down a bit more carefully this time, even though his car keys were sitting in the grass, far away from his landing zone. He hands you your cup and a spoon.
"Do these have alcohol in them?" He nudges you with your elbow and you shake your head.
"As if they would let a seventeen-year-old serve alcoholic beverages," you throw in logic.
"I dunno... ever been to a ballpark before? Pretty sure some of those kids are way too young to be peddling there too, but that doesn't stop people from hiring them," he says while pointing his spoon at you.
"Fair point," you finish, then look at your snow cone. You decide to start eating before it melts.
Silence swarms the air, but comfortably. There's the occasional murmur of cicadas or humming cars drowning them out. Birds would land on the scorching asphalt to pick at whatever crumbs were left by other patrons, before fluttering away at the sight of a zooming bike getting too close for comfort.
Taika will point out a few of the kids doing tricks. He picks his favorites for the night, and he keeps himself busy by watching them. You, on the other hand, are occupied with him. You examine him from the tips of his dirty white chucks, to his frazzled hairdo.
"You look like shit," you mutter. He barely pays you mind and that comment was hardly acknowledged. It was like the air had gone a bit stiffer. He was hiding something from you.
"What's going on, Taik?" you worry. He never kept things from you, unless they were hard to bear.
He sets his cup down and holds his hands together. He looks so tired. So solemn.
"Today was total shit," he whispers and runs a hand through his hair.
"Well, yeah, I get that. I wouldn't have known if you had looked a little spiffier," you say, reaching out and gently tucking a curl on his forehead back in place with all the rest of its friends.
"Look, I--..." he says, turning to you, lips parted slightly, and a yearning sensation bubbling from the tips of his fingers as he rests a single hand on you.
There were tough times with the occupancy you both, willingly, chose. The hardest part about it was making friends, or making love, then finding out you have to leave it behind for a new location the next morning.
"I have to leave... for Sydney..." he says, reaching to gently take your cheek into the palm of his hand.
"When?" you manage, though you were clearly becoming upset.
"In a few weeks. Thor is waiting for me," he sighs, barely able to look at you while his thumb rubbed your ample cheek.
"And what does this have to do with me?"
"I don't want to leave you," he says, tilting your head up just the slightest bit. "And I don't want to stop loving you."
Your eyes search his for a moment, wide and a bit confused.
"I thought you said we were just a fling with--"
He cuts you off, "A fling with benefits. I know..." he sighs again, "but every time I find myself waiting for you to call on a shitty day, each time you rest your head on my shoulder, all the times you smile at me and tease me, I find myself falling... more in love with you." He has to pause to breathe.
It's so quiet. Dangerously quiet.
"What happens if I love you too...?" you muster your courage, and look right into his expressive, brown eyes.
"I don't know," he says to you, thumb still rubbing circles.
"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" you breathe, and he nods.
Still as statues, you wait for words to touch the air. It's only when his foot makes a wrong move and knocks over his snow cone, does the tension break.
His bottom lip pouts for him again and you quietly pick his spoon up off the ground. You clean it on your shirt and hand it to him, all before taking your cup, and holding it out to share. He smiles down at you, taking his spoon from your hand and sticking it into the shaved ice.
Your head leans against his shoulder when the sun disappears behind the mall building.
"I love you too," you whisper.
"I know," he says back, sucking at the tip of his spoon.
"Think we can keep this up over the phone?" you ask, wondering about a brief virtual relationship, just until one of you catches a break.
"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" he says, lowering his spoon, wrapping his arm around you, and giving you his full attention.
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hs-devote · 3 years
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i. láthi: the myth
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Moodboard * Content * Masterlist
Disclaimer:
All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.
i. the myth
“Fuck me.”
He collapses when he reaches his climax, along with the lady underneath him who's jolting when the pleasure hit them together. Their touched chest panting together, with sweats covering their naked body, confirming whatever activities they're having.
“That was good.”
He chuckles, “Absolutely.”
The man rolls from her, throwing his sculptured body next to the lady. He smiles when he feels the soft fingertips of her caressing his toned chest. He hums, lifting his head to land a kiss on her forehead.
“You're going today?” she mutters, “Why should you?”
“Selene,” he sighs, “Our people couldn't find her and they were too dumb. I can't wait any longer if I know I have more power to find her.”
“Fine then. But, don't take too long. I'll miss my husband so much.” the woman named Selene leans in to kiss her husband neck, “Our bed will missing you too, Harry.”
The man with the name Harry just laughs, twirling her blonde strand around his finger, “No need to worry, darling.”
Selene giggles sweetly as her husband cradles her face and brings their lips to moulded together..
. . . .
Harry feels weird.
It's not his first time being on Earth, but this will be the first time staying longer in the world of human and other creatures. Sure, the Earth is so beautiful but no one can against the beauty of Centauri. Centauri is where he lives, with his darling wife, Selene. Not only lives, but he is also the ruler of the realm, the lord of Centauri and all therein. He is the God of Centauri, and Selene is his Goddess.
The two of them have been married for a couple of years, long before the throne fell on him. Unfortunately, they haven't been given a child which is essential to keep their lineage. Selene is infertile, and that's why Harry has to go down to earth. To find the Goddess of Birth, who has been missing for hundreds years. He wants to ask her help for his wife.
And here he is, in Syracuse. Where everyone believes that the Goddess is somewhere in Italy, and Syracuse is the best prediction because the town was a witnessed the triumph of Centauri. Centauri is the realm that lies between the stars and moon, and cannot simply be searched for – can be found for the rightful creatures. The realm is unbelievable beautiful, a heaven-like, everything is so pure and sacred.
"Why human wears such odd clothes?" he hums, eyes darting from his foot to his chest. He feels weird and a little bit uncomfortable to wearing normal human clothes, everything they wear is so different from what he and his people wear back in Centauri. He used to wear silk, cervelt, or even satin. And when he's on earth, he has to adjust.
"This place is so plain." he averts his gaze around his temporary residence. He rents a cottage near the beach, for him easily return to Centauri at any time. The building is typically Italian country house, with stones wall and wooden door and windows. The things he likes about his temporary residential, it gives him more privacy than he asked. It's not in a remote area yet has traditional features combined with comfort and practicality. Even so, something is missing for him.
Flowers.
Back on his castle, flowers are always in every corner of the room and he's used to it. Flowers symbolize beauty and admiration, reminds him of his darling Selene.
Selene.
It's just a few hours after his arrival but he misses her already. But, in Centauri, it's only been a split second. Yes, the cycle of time in his realm is much longer than on earth. And because he isn't a human, especially a God, his aging is taking a really long time. If he's twenty-eight in human age, in fact, he's hundreds years old in Centauri time. But of course, his looks and physical like exactly a man on his mid-twenties. He's gifted with a beautiful face, perfectly sculptured body, voice as sweet as honey yet deep and firm.
Thinking of the flowers, Harry decides to step out of the cottage and roaming around the town to find a florist. He frowns as his eyes catch an Alfa Romeo Spider in his porch, looking at the vintage car with so much wonder. Even though he lives in a different realm, but he understands how the human worlds work and how human lives in general. That's why he got the car for his mobility.
But this time, he prefers to go on foot.
His green eyes full of wonder and curious, looking at his surrounding where humans doing their activities. But, the view this town got is more exciting to him. He admits how beautiful Syracuse is, even the town is small and the population isn't large. He thinks about inviting Selene to come here one day.
Then, his eyes catching a flower shop not too far from where he's standing right now. The shop looks pretty with so many flowers on their display, and it's the only flower shop near the beach – he guesses. He doesn't think twice and brings his foot closer to the shop. Feeling grateful that he doesn't need to walk far.
The shop is fairly small yet its collection of flowers is quite various. Before he goes inside, he looks at the flowers in the basket. The flowers are quite different with ones in his castle, but they're still pretty. Harry is too awestruck with them to make him unaware of the presence of someone beside him.
“Posso aiutarla, signore?”
He snapped his neck fast, eyes grow wider when looking at the young girl standing next to him. The girl offers him a friendly smile with a bouquet of roses in her arms. For a split moment, he's staring too long at her and makes the girl frowns. Shifting awkwardly, the girl asks him once again.
“Can I help you, sir?”
She speaks English with him, thinking he's not Italian and just a foreign tourist. But Harry just smiles, and pointing out her flowers, “Sono belli.”
“Si,” the girl nodded in agreement, “Grazie.”
"Err, I don't understand Italian that much." he scratches his neck nervously, "But, can I get a bouquet of each sunflower, daisies, and lilies?"
“Sure. Do you want to choose them for yourself or let me choose them?” she smiles, “But, I assure you they're all good.”
He nodded, “I trust you, thank you.”
“Fine. Coming right up.”
"Thanks." His eyes following the girl who just saunters into the shop. Shortly after, the girl comes out wearing gloves with scissors in her pocket. Her hands delicately pick out each flower and put them into the nearby basket.
“Is this the only flower shop in here?” Harry throws a question, eyes looking sharply at her – watching every move she makes.
“You could say that.” she shrugs, “Well, there's one but quite far from here. Not in the beach area, though.”
“Ah, I see.” he nods, “Do you know good places to visit? This is my first time and I don't know where the worth to visit.”
It's obvious Harry doesn't just stay for only a week or so, he needs more than that to find the missing Goddess. And he thinks visiting a place or two won't hurt. He loves to explore places, and it will help him to widen his search area.
Does he know where to find the Goddess?
No, he doesn't.
But, he can feel her if she's close. Also, the Gods and Goddesses have a special hidden mark on them to identify them as the extraordinary creatures.
"Is this your first time in Italy?" she looks at him with her doe eyes, "We have so many beautiful places to visit." then, she continues to pick the flowers.
“First time in Syracuse. But, I've been to Modena and Florence.” he doesn't lie. He went to Modena and Florence a few years ago, but it was just a quick visit. Really quick visit that only a day trip.
“Well, how much days do you have?” she questions him.
“Actually, I'm here for work so... I have much time, I think." he bites his lips, "Does it take many days?"
“No..” she laughs, putting the flowers into the bouquet and tied them up with black ribbon, “If you have a plenty of time, I suggest you visit several places in Sicily, not only Syracuse.”
“Thank you.” he says when the girl handed him his flowers, “But, I think this town is rich with Greek and Roman history. So, it will be more fun.”
"Oh, you're into a history?" she widens her eyes in surprise. Because not many people like a history that much. And finding a handsome man loves historical places, it tickles her a little.
"You could say that." he grinned, then stretches out his hand, "We haven't introduced ourself yet. My name's Harry."
The girl giggles and shakes his hand softly, “Hi, Harry. I'm Y/N.”
Her hand is soft like cotton and makes him wonder what treatment she did have to keep them so delicate. Even Selene's hands are not as soft as her hands. His smile fades a bit when Y/N takes her hand from him, and intertwining her hands together instead. He doesn't know why a disappointment swept over his heart when he lost touch with her. It feels like her hands convey a sense of safety to his soul. He drowns in his reverie too long, until he realises she's looking at him with an arched eyebrow. He blinks his eyes, shaking his head shamefully.
“I'm sorry. How much are these?” he says, looking at the bouquets in his arms like they are his babies.
“That would be €100.”
Harry then dig his pockets, taking out the money and hands her the cash. He politely thanks her before walking back to his cottage.
On the way home, he keeps thinking about the girl. Y/N. He doesn't deny that she's beautiful, charming, and she has something that he feels different. He assumes she's so much younger than him – than his God age and human age of course, and wondering how old is she. Then, he remembers Selene. Selene's human age is the same with him, but sometimes she acts like a few years younger and childish. He wonders if Y/N acts like that too.
He shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away. How could he compare his wife to another woman?
. . . . Flowers are quite essentials for him. And that's why he always buys them every day. For several weeks he's been here, he buys flowers from different shops and of course compares the qualities of each. Short story, he bought a few bouquets from a shop far from his cottage. He liked their flowers, but he didn't like the woman who sold them. She always flirted with him when he tried to pick the flowers, and openly asked him out.
Harry aware very well how attractive he is. And the way his wife keeps telling him how hot he is always being his constant reminder. He remembers when he was single, hadn't taken the throne yet, the ladies on Centauri always thrown themselves on him. Stared at him like he was their delicious prey, like he was the heaven that everyone always dreamt of. He knew they always had his name spoken between their conversation.
He was very cocky and proud of that – at that time. But, when he married Selene, all of them didn't diminish. The hunger stare, their giggly comments about him – it bothered him and Selene very much. However, the time when he took over the throne, those ladies zipped their mouth close. Very aware that they shouldn't talk inappropriately of their ruler.
But, the thing that bothers him more is those who talked about Selene. About her wife being infertile and hasn't produced an heir. Harry knows it annoys Selene more, and that's what brought him down to earth. For one mission.
How is his search been?
Absolutely nothing.
He still couldn't find the Goddess until now. He has arrived at the right place, but it's hard to find one person among the hundreds of thousands of people here. However, he must not give up. He tries to find a clue by going to historical places of the Gods and Goddesses. Time travelling to a few decades back to find any closure. But, it just gives him small pieces of the story.
Thinking about that saturated him a bit. He decides to go out and buying new flowers for his cottage since his last flowers were already withered. Climbing on his car, Harry started the engine and drive away. It only takes ten minutes drive for him to arrive at a certain flower shop. He smiles looking at the open signage hanging on the wooden posts but the girl he wants to see is nowhere to be found. He kills the engine, getting out of the car, and walking to his destination.
His smiles grow wider when his eyes catching the girl who just comes out from inside, holding a toddler in her arms. Is that her kid?
“Hello,” Harry greets her, looking at both the girl and the toddler.
“Oh. Hi, Harry.” Y/N smiles, adjusting the quiet little girl on her hips with both her hand wrapped around the small body, “Looking for some flowers?”
“Yes.” he breathes, “It's peonies and gardenias this time.”
“Good choices. They're still fresh because they just came a few minutes ago.” she nods, “Just a moment, I should take Lola inside.”
“Sure.”
Y/N gives him apologetic smile before going inside. It doesn't take a minute for her to comes out with gloves hand and no the toddler clinging onto her.
“Was that your child?” Harry asks curiously, watching Y/N picks out the peonies and putting them to the basket, “She's beautiful.”
"Unfortunately, no." she answers, "Lola is my friend's daughter. She asked me to babysit her this morning since she had to be out of the town until night. I thought my job is easy enough so I agreed and brought her here. Luckily my co-worker inside didn't mind at all."
“And yes. She's beautiful and such a happy baby. She's just three years old after all.” she adds, “Didn't bother me that much.”
Harry doesn't say a word, he just keeps looking at Y/N who's now putting the flowers together. He thanks her when she gives him the bouquets, then hands her the money.
“I've visited some places, most of them were historical.” he starts, “But, do you know any similar place? I mean, I'm interested with Greek and Roman myths. So, if anything like that I'll be happier.”
"Have you visited the town hall?" she asks back, "They have a lot of historical information about it, and one of them is the myth about Centauri."
Hearing his realm being mentioned makes him stiffened, but he has to play cool. Harry doesn't know if the people now know about Centauri since it had happened centuries ago and it's almost certain that no human has become living witnesses, only Centauri people who still have that memory to this day. Everyone thinks that the legacy of Centauri's victory was from another life.
“Centauri? What's that?”
"I think it's quite similar to Greek and Roman myths. But, everyone believes that Centauri's myth is greater than the Greek and Roman. Rumours say that the legacy of Greek and Roman, were actually Centauri's. Greek and Roman couldn't touch Sicily because it was overpowered by Centauri."
Harry scrunches his nose, “Only Sicily?”
"I guess? Because the rest of Italy was under Greek and Roman's power." she shrugs, "Well, I don't know much since I'm not Italian. But, that's what I heard from my granny."
“Oh, you're not Italian?” he asks in surprise, he doesn't think Y/N isn't Italian because her Italian accent that time was quite impressive. But, if he studies her carefully, he knows she's not.
“I'm English. I moved here since I was eight with my granny.” she chuckles, “That was after the passed of my parents.”
She's an orphan, and only live with her grandmother – he guesses. He feels bad to ask him that question if it would lead to a sad thing.
"I'm sorry about that." he gives her sympathetic smile, "I don't know–"
She waves her hand, "It's okay, Harry. You wouldn't know if I didn't tell you, right?"
“So, you're living with your grandmother? Only two of you?” “Correct.”
“How old are you if you don't mind?”
“I just turned twenty-one last month.”
See, she's much younger than Harry thought. He then nods, “Happy birthday, then.”
"It's late. But, thank you, Harry."
In all of sudden, Y/N co-worker came out from inside with the sobbing toddler on her hips. The toddler's face is wet with tears and pouting mouth.
“Piange perché le manca sua madre." her co-worker informs her and hands her the wailing baby. Y/N thanks her and begin to wipes the wet stains off the baby's face while cooing sweet words, trying to soothe the little girl.
“Va tutto bene, Lola. Andiamo a casa, va bene?” she whispers in Lola's, the little girl, ear. Her palms stroking Lola's back while bouncing her body. For a moment, she forgets Harry who looks at her in awe. Watching the precious scene unfolded before his eyes. He loves how gentle Y/N to the baby and thinking she will be such a great parent someday.
“Lo so, caro. Lo so. Ti manca moltissimo tua madre, sì?” she cooes, “La mamma tornerà stasera. Non preoccuparti. Vuoi giocare a casa mia?”
Harry watching carefully the way Y/N treats the little girl, the sweet gesture and fondness making him thinks about his future when he has children of his own. Thinking how beautiful and complete his life would be with the presence of a child whom not only he is the who craved, but everyone else. A child who would later replace him on the throne.
His lips forming small smile when Lola nods in Y/N's neck, refusing to show her face. She seems unwilling to let go since her tight fists wrapping around Y/N's neck.
“I'm sorry, Harry. I think I'll call it a day and go home. I don't want the customers to be bothered if Lola keeps crying.” Y/N says softly, her hands still stroking Lola's hair.
“Do you need a ride?” he asks hopefully, wanting Y/N to take his offer. He just curious about the little girl and fascinated about the bond between them. He knows she is close with the child, proven by Lola who agreed with her suggestion.
“Oh, don't worry, Harry. I can walk back to my house.”
“Why?” Harry is surprised by what he had just said, sounding so pushy. He hurriedly corrected before it was too late, “I mean, it will be a little inconvenient walking while carrying her. I parked my car not far from here. At least if I give you a ride, you will arrive sooner.”
“Uhm...”
"C'mon." he assures her when she looks a bit reluctant, "Besides, you haven't told me other worth visiting places in Sicily.
“Fine,” her agreement makes him smirks, “Let me take my bag first.”
He nods, letting Y/N take her time to grab her things. It doesn't take too long to her joins him in the front of the shop. She smiles, giving an okay to them to go. On the short walk to his car, Harry stealing glances at the lady next to him. Y/N tries to talk to Lola for the child to not feeling sad anymore. He doesn't realise that he has been smiling at the two of them.
He stops at his car, putting the flowers on the back seat before unlocking the passenger door for her. Y/N climbs into the car and thanking him for closing the door for her. She adjusts Lola in her lap while Harry joins her in the driver seat.
“Nice car, anyway.” she comments as the engine starting to roar.
“Thank you,” he replies while turning the steering wheel, letting the car down the street. Both of them didn't utter a word for the past minutes. If Harry busy behind the wheel, Y/N seems to be enjoying the ride by feeling the afternoon breeze sweeping her hair.
“Looks like you enjoying the ride.” he says softly, looking at her briefly before looking back at the road.
"Mhm, it feels nice to ride along this beautiful coastal with a convertible car." she nods, her head turns to see the beach not so far from here. Then, her head flicks to see him, "Do you know the direction to my home? I only gave you the name street."
"There's a technology called Google Maps," he jokes, "And luckily, I know how to used them."
Y/N laughs loudly, making him laugh too. Somehow her laughter is infectious, and he swears it was the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard. Yet, both of them hurriedly closes their mouth when Lola shushed them. The way Lola pouts her lips makes him gushes, thinking how cute she is.
“Mi dispiace, Lola. Non intendo ignorarti.” Y/N giggles, twirling her dark curls. The little girl just huffs, before cackling loudly because Y/N peppering kisses all over her face.
That makes Harry's heart flutter, seeing how precious a child is and the affection between them. For a moment, he looks at them like they're his family. A feeling of happiness filled his heart just thinking about it. But, he shakes the thought away. He has his wife back at home and will have a child someday.
“So, Y/N.” he coughs, “You just said to me earlier the town hall is a worth visiting place to know the history of Sicily. Where is it?”
“It's near Catacombe di San Giovanni actually, just five minutes walking distance from there.” she responses, “That's a nice place. Unfortunately, not many people come to visit.”
“Y/N, posso avere il gelato?” Lola whispers to Y/N. She just pinches her chubby cheeks, “Quando torniamo a casa, va bene?”
“Perchè non ora?”
“Perché non possiamo fermarci. non vogliamo disturbare Harry, vero?”
Lola slumps her shoulder before nodding softly, leaned back on Y/N chest while playing with her skirt. Harry who's behind the wheel, knows the girl is upset and he couldn't see an upset child. All he does now is, turn the wheel to stop by the ice cream parlor he'd seen before.
“Posso fermarmi un momento. che sapore vuoi?” he questions Lola who just staring at him with her big hazel eyes. She gives him toothy grins, nodding her head quickly makes him worry that it will fall off from how fast she nods.
“Posso avere due misurini di fragola e cioccolato?”
“Lola..” Y/N warns the toddler in her lap. But, Harry quickly shakes it off, “It's okay, Y/N. Just think of me treat you as a sign of our friendship.”
“Remind me to treat you back someday, Harry.” she sighs in defeat, then looking at the smiling child on her lap, “At least she will be better after this.”
. . . . It becomes Harry's habit to buy flowers at Y/N's shop. If usually he would buy them once a week, now he buys them almost every three days. Not only did he keep them fresh, but there was also feeling that would stick in his heart of he didn't see her. And he doesn't know why.
“Harry! Stai cercando Y/N?” Mia, Y/N’s co-worker greets him. She was sorting the withered flowers in front of the shop when Harry came. Harry feels his cheek heated; he nervously scratches his neck.
“Sì. Ma voglio anche comprare nuovi fiori.” he let out a nervous sigh, “Lei è qui?”
“Compra nastri per un po'. Aspetta solo un momento.”
“Grazie, Mia.”
Not long after, Harry feels a light tap on his shoulder. He smiles finding Y/N standing in front of him with the groceries in her hands.
"Hi, Harry." she grins, "Coming to buy another flower?"
He nods, “I will have three bouquets of baby breath and two bouquets of carnations this time.”
“Sure, wait a minute. I have to put this stuff inside.” She smiles, showing her shopping bags before storming inside. A few minutes later, she comes out with her gloves and scissors, obviously.
“I’m curious. Why do you often buy flowers?” she hums, “Are those for someone special?”
“No,” he answers honestly, “I just happen to like flowers, very much. They’re just pretty and I’m used to having a garden to plant them. Then, when I moved here and I don’t have a garden, flowers in a vase aren’t bad.”
“You’re just a romantic guy, aren’t you?” she teases him while tying the flowers.
“What makes you think like that?” he chuckles.
"Because…" she hangs her word, "It's rare to find a guy who happens to like flowers."
“Then, I’m such a rare guy then.” he wiggles his eyebrow, smiling a bit makes his dimples pop out. For a moment, Y/N thinks it’s cute. Moreover, the way she just finds out that Harry has bunny teeth, it’s just adding his cuteness.
“Cocky much you are.” she laughs, shaking his head. Then, handing him his bouquets, “There you are.”
"Thanks," he whispers then give her the money, "Actually. I came here also to ask for your help."
“Mhm, what is it?”
“About the Town Hall thing. Do you think you can accompany me to go there?” he nervously asks her, “If you don’t mind, of course.”
“When?”
“The sooner the better.”
“All right. I think I can leave now so we can go there faster.”
Harry widens his eyes, doesn’t think Y/N will agree and ask to go right now. To be honest, if Y/N refused him, it would be fine. He just wants to know what the people think about Centauri myth. Since Y/N is a local, she might know a little bit about it and maybe, maybe be able to help him.
“Is that OK? I mean, you’re at work and I don’t want to disturb you.” he asks with concern, “We can leave after you finish your work, though.”
“It’s okay, H. I’m not really working today and just stopped by the shop.” she bites her lips, “Besides, if I can help my friend sooner, why not?”
His heart flutters in awe after hearing that. He doesn't think Y/N considered him as a friend, a friend that happens because of the constant of buying flower. Plus, the way Y/N calls him by a nickname makes his heart stirs.
“Let me return the gloves and scissor and then we can go together.” she winks, then excusing herself before meeting him again. Harry leads the way to where his car was parked, not too far from the shop. He politely opens the passenger door for her, then putting the flowers in the back seat.
“Do I need to tell you the direction or.. you will use the Google Maps thing?” she teases.
He frowns a bit, “Google Maps is okay. But, you can tell me the right direction if the Maps goes wrong.”
“Okay then.” she hums, averting her gaze to the road in front of them. Looking at the beautiful Sicilian scenery. Sometimes, she glances at Harry who seems so focused behind the wheel. Little does she know, Harry is very aware that the girl next to him stealing glances at him. But he chooses to ignore it. Deep down in his heart, he knows she may be attracted to him yet the woman doesn’t want to show that.
“Here we are.” Y/N breaks the silence when they arrive at Town Hall, “You can park in the back of the building.”
Harry just nods, and park the car not far from the entrance. Before getting out of the car, they're quite surprised at the number of visitors that day – much more than usual, according to Y/N. Then, both of them close the door simultaneously and admiring the architecture. The building looks more like a cathedral, thick with gothic nuances and looks majestic. Y/N guides Harry inside and begins to stroll around inside. Of course, Harry goes straight to where the diorama of the Centauri myth is. His eyes catching a few illustrations that he admitted the truth while the people consider them a myth only.
The illustrations are where the Gods and Goddesses came to Sicily, built a civilization, and leaving it as dust when humans crossed their lines.
He doesn't realise he was staring at it for too long and deeply felt it while Y/N stands beside him.
“Harry.” she softly tugs his jacket sleeve, making him jolts and snaps his head to her. Looking at frowning Y/N.
“Uh, yes Y/N?” he scratches his nose, “I’m sorry I was daydreaming.”
“You look very carried away with the illustration.” she looks at him full of wonder, “You really like history, huh?”
“Actually, I think they missed one thing.” he deadpans, “Have you ever heard the myth of a missing Goddess?”
“What?” she blinks, frowning deeply.
“The missing Goddess of Birth. The myth said that the Goddess left Centauri and is believed to be in disguise among the Italians.” he exhaled, “I’ve heard if that myth but it looks they don’t have the illustration.”
“Well, after all it was just a myth, Harry. Some people believed it, and some didn’t.”
“But, do you believe it?” he challenges her, “The Centauri and myth?”
“I don’t know,” she jogs her shoulder, “But, if it was real, Centauri must be beautiful. The real, the people, everything… they’re believed to be between the moon and the stars.”
“If that was true,” he trails off, “Would you like to see Centauri?”
“Maybe. If I had the chance, though.”
Harry nods, assuming that she doesn’t know about the missing Goddess. Well, he could see a little when it happened. The Goddess had indeed disappeared, and she is, in fact, in Sicily. But, where should he look? Albeit he can sense the presence of other Gods, Goddesses, or Centauri people, it still complicated for him. He doesn’t want his mission in Sicily to be wasted, and he was thinking of getting to something as soon as possible.
Then, it happens.
He senses Centauri people nearby. Who sent them? What are they doing here?
"I think we should go now, Y/N." he murmurs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, "I'm done, and it was mind-blowing. Maybe I'll look for another theory somehow."
“Why do get so attached about the Centauri thing, Harry?” she asks while exiting the building, “Is that interesting?"
"Like I've told you before, I just like.. history." he brushes her off, helping her to hop on the car. He hastily starts the engine and leaving the building behind before the Centaurian finds him. He doesn't like the idea of him and Y/N get caught. They will tell his wife and he doesn't want that.
Harry doesn't hesitate to drive Y/N home while the girl refuses politely, doesn't want troublesome him. Well, she gives up after all since Harry is so adamant.
He gives her a small smile when she thanks him for the ride, and drifts away from her porch after that. It doesn't take long to arrive at his cottage, he drives pretty fast and the road was quite clear that day. Then, he is surprised by a familiar voice greets him when he opens his door. A few feet from him, someone he hasn't seen in a while standing with arms wide open.
“Selene?”
“My darling, Harry.” the lady sighs happily, jogging towards him and hugs him tightly. Harry has no idea why does Selene come to see him? Is there something wrong back in Centauri? Then, he remembers the Centaurians he sensed in the Town Hall. Was it his wife? But, he could tell right away if it was her. Did Selene send them away?
“Hi,” he breathes, pulling away from her to kiss her full lips. “What are you doing here?”
“Missing my husband so much,” Selene giggles, “I know it’s only a few days, but…”
A few days? Oh well, it's a few weeks for him. Excuse the different cycles of time between Earth and Centauri.
"Are you going to stay for a while here?" he asks even though he knows what's her answer. Selene never likes Earth and humans, she always looks down on them, thinking they're lowly creatures. Being the Goddess she is, especially as the wife of Centauri's ruler, makes her feel superior and nothing nobler than Centaurians.
“Why should I?” she rolls her eyes, “Sometimes I wonder why you volunteered to come down to Earth even I know what’s your mission. But, still…”
“Selene..” he sighs, “We have discussed this, right?”
“I know, I know.” she pouts, “Let’s just forget that. This place looks nice, anyway.”
“This is your first time complimenting human building, you know?” he teases him while stroking her soft cheeks, “But, yes. This is the nicest in all of Syracuse.”
“Where’s your bedchamber?”
“Why? Do you want to take a rest?”
“No,” she hums seductively, “I just miss you terribly,” then she tiptoed, bringing her mouth to his ear, “And it aching me down there.”
Oh...
Harry unconsciously bites his lip when Selene sucks his skin below the ear, and he is sure it will leave a mark from how hard she sucks them. Not need to think twice, he scopes her body and brings them towards his bedroom. He hasn't had sex since his arrival in Syracuse and it makes him giddy. After all, he also missed his wife even that feeling was sometimes replaced by the presence of Y/N in his new life here.
*
unedited.
share your thought with me, here. 
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Neither of them said anything for a long minute. Murky water dripping carelessly into a puddle somewhere. 
Asivus looked Astor up and down, taking him in. He then nodded, before kicking his legs back out and resting his arms behind his head, resuming his entertainment of staring at the wall. This time he put on the smile.
“Welp! I was kinda hoping a couple decades imprisonment would do the trick, but execution is fine too, I guess. Swiftness and punctuality and all that.” He let out a fake yawn. “Though you’re wasting your time if you’re looking to give a prayer. I intend to go out without asking the gods for anything.”
“I’m not a priest.” Astor said bluntly.
Siv cocked an eyebrow. “Uh…...n...nun—?”
“What happened to you, Assivus?” 
“Ahhhh…And interrogation…” He nodded up and down again. “Then I’ll tell you what I told the other guy—you can goooooooo suck my dick.”
Siv turned to the side, fiddling with something metal in his right pocket, the rattling echoing on the stone floor.  He finally pulled out an old flask, shaking it back and for, the sound revealing a little less than a third of alcohol left in the container. He shook it again and looked at the seer. 
“Snuck this bad boy in, earlier! I know my way around a pat down or two, heheh…” He took a swig before gesturing towards Astor again. “How ‘bout you, choir man? Got any sorrows to drown?”
“A kind offer, but I actually value my health,” he replied. “You got any other contraband keeping you company, then?”
He tensed, but recovered so quickly Astor nearly thought he imagined it. Asivus then let out a laugh before taking another drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand—which despite the grime, was probably the cleanest part of his person. 
“So they took the nearest homeless looking pal and sent them down to ask me shit...that’s certainly new.” He studied the seer again. “What? We supposed to bond over our greasy hair? Lack of fashion?” Another beat of silence. “...I’ll admit, it’s working a bit!” He laughed, leaning back against the wall. 
Astor sighed silently, before cutting to the chase. “You’re being charged with manslaughter—the rampaging Guardian that destroyed part of the castle. But I know it wasn’t you.” Water dripped in the back end of the cell. “I want you to tell me about the malice.”
One of the cells down the corridor rattled, some Lizalfo shifting in it’s sleep. The echoing metal left a sense of unease in the air. 
“Listen…” Assivus’s voice dropped to a dangerously quiet tone. “I’m not looking for a defense attorney, and I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. So you should probably get on your way before you miss your sermon.” He glared at Astor, blue eyes seemingly a shade darker. 
“There were timelines where the world ends today, you know.” He stepped closer to the cell bars. “The princess far too weak to awaken her powers, the Calamity having grown just strong enough to erupt around the castle, infecting stone and flesh alike.” 
“Well whatareya doing here, then, Mr. Doomsday?” Assivus cocked his head to the side. “If the world’s supposed to end, shouldn’t you be...out there? Maybe holding an ‘End is Nigh’ sign or something?”
“It doesn’t end for us, though. I’ve spent my life studying the endeavours and feats that await this world and the next. We’ve luckily still got a few years before hell starts to walk.” Astor stepped closer again, unwavering to Assivus’ gaze. “I’m merely curious about how your little disturbance—or perhaps, failure of a disturbance—coincides with the Calamity’s potential return.”
“I fucked with some Sheikah Tech. Guardian got funky. Brat nephew saves the day. I get arrested. Don’t remember running into any ancient evils on this little joy ride.”   
“You and I both know the official report is made-up bullshit. I imagine your spite is derived from the unfairness of the situation.” He tucked his hair behind his ears. “Guardians can’t be corrupted through mechanical means. They’re forces crafted to take on ancient magical forces, and as such are engrained with magical components. They don’t just break out into violence over a broken gear, much less be purposefully made to go against their ancient purposes.” He scoffed at the smirk on Asivus’ face. “Especially not by some idiot like you.” Asivus placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. 
“In addition,” Astor continued, “I imagine your father didn’t have purple and gold slitted eyes. So that trait you occasionally have is certainly suspect.”
Assivus blinked, and the creeping colors in his eyes faded along with his confident smirk. He rubbed his blue eyes and sighed. 
“Hey well that’s just rude,” Siv said, playfully. “Maybe I got it from my mom.”
Astor clicked his tongue, before clenching his jaw.
“Welp, you’re certainly a smarter cookie than I gave you credit for, purple man.” Asivus crossed his legs—criss-cross-applesauce—and turned completely too Astor. “But the fact of the matter is, I don’t really care anymore. And I don’t know why you care. Knowing doesn’t change anything for your little predictions, does it?”
The prophet’s face remained unreadable. Siv started scratching his head. “You know I do remember you now...I’ve seen you around. You used to pester the Dick-Rhoam a bunch. Walking around with your little maps and star charts or whatever...yeah, yeah. The weirdo that would tell the rich bastards around here that they were useless. Very bitter insults, I respect it! Suppose some heroes wear robes over capes.”
“It’s not about insults, it’s the truth.” Astor narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to help you, but rest assured, we all are doomed to be consumed by the Calamity.”
There was silence between them again, but the slight smile on Siv’s face didn’t fade.
“You know, this whole dark and edgy doomsday act is great and all, don’t get me wrong. But since it’s just us alone here there’s no need to keep up the act. I mean, I’m pretty sure I saw you left that anonymous gift of exotic bird encyclopedias in Larc’s office last year.” Astor’s jaw tightened and Siv winked. “And I know because he claimed he saw me leave it—and I don’t buy books, ever. Might wanna change your wardrobe, you wouldn’t wanna be confused as the homeless orator—”
“The Malice.” The seer cut in. “How’d you get it?”
“Ah, it all started when I was born in Rauru Settlement to Lord Ligero Arist—”
“I mean how did you manifest it?” He articulated.  “Everyone has malice, yes. But it takes something else to make it a physical power. Much less enough to infect Sheikah Technology.”
Asivus tapped his chin for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. “Can’t I just perish in peace? The ol’ axe seems for sharper conversation.”
“Look, I just want...I want to…” Astor shook his head, restarting. “Any information I get is something I can use to make our future demise just slightly more bearable for whatever unlucky generation lives. Don’t you care about that?”
“Nope! Got no kids. Larc and his brats either didn’t care to look at me, or Larc’s too much of a spineless brother to care about me over the rules. Soooo, I’m all for looking out for me, myself, and I, thank you very much.” He tapped his foot against the stone floor. “Plus, I had an ex that used his kids to scam me of 6k rupees in a pocket monster match a while back, so I’m still recovering from that.” 
“Can I trade you then? What do you want? If I come back here with a good wine, will your lips loosen?” Astor was already mentally planning who he could buy a bottle from without a paper trail, already expecting Siv to say yes.
Water continued to drip and drip and drip. Asivus sighed.
“...Nah.” Astor raised an eyebrow. “I’m good...you can’t get what I want, anyhow…”
The seer looked at him for a long moment. Siv had gone back to staring into blank space, deep in thought about something that had caused his smirk to fade.
Let’s see...What would a dead man value? He’s got a rough relationship with his family, he’s got no friends, he’s tainted by a crime of his past…
“Are you interested in the past?” The prophet finally asked. “I know stuff about your mother. If the material doesn’t mean much to a dead man, then I’m all for a trade of information.”
Siv’s eyes suddenly shot up, specks of gold appeared in his pupils before disappearing.
“Wh..*What...?*”
“I’ll start. We’ll both trade details bit by bit, alright?” It was his turn to smirk at the look on Asivus’ face. 
“I’m a bastard child.”
Asivus scrunched his eyebrows. “The fuck does that have to do with my…” His eyes suddenly widened, his mouth opening and closing. He quickly checked his flask to see how much was left, and took a swig. He stared back at Astor. “Explains a bit but...What the actual fuck.”
“Her name was Serenity. Serenity Lior Astor, from Deya Village. There, I think that’s adequate, yes?” Astor gestured down to him. “Your turn.”
Asivus scratched his chin, before standing. He drank the rest of his flask, before dropping it to the ground. “How’d she die?”
“Your father is Lord Ligero. You know how this game works.”
Siv bit his lip, for a moment, before shrugging. Suddenly, purple started to creep at the edges of his eyes, pupils thinning to gold.
“OK, magic man. But don’t be a snitch, alright?” Assivus raised one of his hands open in the air, and for a moment, Astor wondered if he was supposed to take it in a weird sideways handshake. 
Then, the air swirled, a sensation of mixed euphoria and misery tainting the corridor. Cell occupants were rustling.
A glow of magenta swirled up Assivus’ forearm, before swirling in an orb hovering over his palm. The sound of it forming was like the thick, suffocating scream of hot metal as a smith plunges it into water.
The malice left as quick as it came, and hovering in Assivus’ palm was a strange, and beautiful astrolabe. It’s alluring faint glow nearly made him reach out between the bars to touch it.
“Your turn.”
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juminly · 4 years
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As The Rush Comes (Ikémen Vampire Theodorus Van Gogh x Reader)
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Summary: You are at a nightclub with your friend Theodorus Van Gogh. The problem is, you want to be more than friends. Does he feel the same? Hell yes. Change is bound to happen. And it does. This one-shot was inspired by the song As the Rush Comes.   Read all 3 parts on AO3. Rating: Mature (explicit/coarse language, detailed mention of sexual acts) 
Tags: Modern AU, mutual pining, sexual tension/frustration, jealousy, dirty dancing. 
Warning: mention of the reader not remembering the events of a past night of heavy drinking and partying.  Word Count: 3500 approx. 
Club Music Playlist *Kiss you by Nadia Ali **Down to Love (Kyau & Albert Remix) by Armin Van Buuren feat. Ana Criado
***Still I Wait (Richard Durand’s In Search of Sunrise Remix) by Jonas Steur feat. Jennifer Rene. 
Song lyrics are in bold; look at this asterisks to know which song is playing in the background and play the song as you read -------------------------- *I'd wake up, and make love to you if I had you, I would touch you so much, but I'm not allowed to… Nadia Ali, bless her heart, was only adding salt to your wounds. You were already feeling salty enough for feeling the way you did and she didn’t make it any better. Why were you salty? While the song went on and on about how the vocalist just needed to wait for the perfect moment to kiss the one she wanted to show love to, you were here lamenting pathetically over Theodorus Van Gogh, the man that occupied your every waking thought and dream… and most recent fantasies.
The music was thrumming loudly in your ears, the discographies selected by this particular local DJ was always to your liking. The rhythmic beat of trance sending the club-goers into an ephemeral state of rapture as the dancefloor flocked with writhing bodies, the scent of alcohol, sweat and sex heady in the air. Were people living in some sort of state of drought? The thirst was real… and so palpable. You were not one to judge, you felt it too.
Thud… Thud… Thud… Was that the music or your pulse? You couldn’t tell anymore.
Would you pretend, we're only friends, if I kissed you, At least I can dream of you in a scene, when I'd kiss you.
You’ve dreamed of so many scenes, in so many different locations and in all of them, you were in the most compromising situations and positions. Holy fuck, just thinking about how those icy blue eyes staring into you while he lazily ran his tongue over his swollen lips, the ones you wanted to kiss and bite so damn much, that chiseled body of his positioned between your… No.. No… You told yourself you wouldn’t go there but your mind couldn’t help but wander.  The song had just been coaxing you to act on your impulses and you covered your ears, just to keep Nadia from tempting you more than you already were.
How many months has it been since the incident?
The office hottie, Arthur Conan Doyle, had thrown an extravagant birthday bash in his so-called crib, and to your own surprise, the man had exquisite taste and the entire thing was planned immaculately. Who had been his wingman during the entire process? The hot mister that was your companion at the club for the night. That was how, when and where you met him, much to your dismay.
You heard that things had gotten hot and heavy between you during that birthday party and you were literally flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried into Arthur’s bedroom. Things had gotten that heated… However, big emphasis on the word “heard” cause you unfortunately don’t remember jackshit from that fateful night and cursed yourself all the time for this.
His hands roughly groping you and his lips fiercely crashing down on yours… The things that could’ve happened… The things you could’ve done… You could ONLY imagine. Imagine, yes. Remember, no. The heavens indisputably had some mocking plot to make you miserable. Miserable? You definitely were. After that night, you were thrown into the friendzone. With a capital F.
Pining after a man that wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless it was to ruffle your hair like some puppy. You almost got your chance at some type of romance in your uneventful life… Still, things only got interesting when that asshole suddenly showed up, but it wasn’t like you were actually willing to admit that to him. You’d rather swallow his… Brain and heart, focus. Libido and hormones, get the fuck away. He wants me… He wants me not… I want everything he’s got.
Shut it, Nadia. You were already drowning in heaps of doubt and you’ve clearly… clearly had enough of her feeding you more fantasies and unlawful and excessively unadulterated thoughts and you were doubting yourself already. And what you decided to do? Drink yourself into oblivion, accompanied by the vexing perpetrator who had just gotten back from the men’s room. It was admiration and pining time for you. As he slowly approached you with long and sure strides, Theodorus was, is and will always be probably the most gorgeous, handsome piece of eye-candy that you’ve ever laid your eyes on and you were 99.99% sure that this statement was your true and unbiased opinion.
Beige dress pants hugged the length of those legs that carried him, giving you the chance to drool over the definition of his stature that you could see thanks to the tightness of the fabric, emphasizing a bit too much for your liking on his… No, don’t go there. Heat flooded your reddened cheeks as your thoughts scrambled wildly in your mind as he found his seat next to you. That’s always where you found yourselves. Together. Always. You get along so well. It’s bound to be this way, right? The string of fate and the butterflies of time managed to find a way to bring you together. While your internal ruminations besieged your mind, a rich baritone touched your ears, unmistakably his. “We probably should leave soon. I don’t want to suffocate in this clothed orgy.” You shot him an inquisitive look, silently asking him to elaborate on his point. “You look like you’re about to melt in that pretty little dress of yours, Hondje. I’d rather hop to any pub or have a drink at that klootzak’s place and deal with his moaning than this. At least his place isn’t as filthy as this hellish kennel.”
“You talk like an old man, Theo. Why don’t we just try to live a little?” He simply gave you a glare, a response that you knew very well. He wasn’t going to waste his breath on such mundane frivolities. It seemed that you would have to take the drinking party elsewhere. Clubs were clearly not Theo’s favourite destination.
You couldn’t help but giggle at this man’s dog analogies. As much as they pissed the shit out of you… Wait. Rewind. Did he just compliment what you were wearing...? He noticed?
For the first time in a while, you decided to try “letting loose” and go for something different. You would usually go for something, more like, anything black but today was different. In celebration of whatever weird feeling and eccentricity that came over you, you decided to go for a skimpy off-the-shoulder purple dress that kissed every curve of your luscious form, barely reaching the top of your mid-thigh and pushed your bosom in a way that accentuated your cleavage. You felt hot and you wanted to feel hot too.
**It's down to love tonight, This is where we are, As we turn into the light, Let’s make it last...
On any other day, Down to Love would’ve been one of your favourite songs to listen to but definitely not today. You were clearly not down to any kind of love. This is not where you wanted to be and you didn’t want this to last. You growled under your breath, enough to have Theodorus, the man of the hour… no, he was the man of your every-fucking-day and your every-goddamn-dream and fantasy, tilt his head to the side to cast a judging gaze at you, raising an arched eyebrow with a silent what-the-fuck is wrong with you.
There was so much that was wrong with you and he was the cause of it all. The prime suspect. The only one, this maddeningly handsome asshole.
Lips slick with moisture, your eyes lingered a little too long on the inviting gleam before you attempted to relax in your seat, while Theo remained hunched apathetically over the bar counter, nursing his drink thoughtlessly. Both of you were so accustomed to whatever it was that you were doing, you fell into a pattern that soon began to feel more like a ritual. You couldn’t even remember how you became his drinking buddy but there was something that Arthur said once… Both of you were not the type to party hard so it made it hard for him to have fun with the both of you, even though Theo and him spent an obscene amount of time together. You were kindred spirits. That was a fact.
Being around him made it hard to breathe. You noticed that not only the first button of his shirt was open, but now, the second one was too, giving you a good look of impeccably sculpted pectorals, his skin shining under the epilepsy-inducing lights of the nightclub while drops of sweats meandered down to places unknown, unexplored… and desired. With one arm propped on the counter and leaning his full weight to one side, his form was completely angled towards you and his eyes roamed appraisingly over your provocative dress and your overall physique. You knew that look, you’ve seen it before. It was the same way he scrutinized and examined art.
His gaze was now posed on your thighs, your dress hiked up even more on your silky skin as you crossed and uncrossed your legs restlessly. “Looking at something, big guy? My eyes are up here. You’ve been checking me out since we got here.” you quipped with a smirk. “Hm?” he hummed, as if you had ripped him away from the depth of his thoughts. You could see a faint blush on the top of his cheekbones… It was clearly only a sign of inebriation. Right? “Oh, I was just wondering who you’re trying to seduce.” he replied blankly before continuing. “You wouldn’t need to dress up like this to impress me.” His tongue swiped over his lower lip, wettening it before throwing his head back, draining his glass of whiskey and turning his body away, leaving you perplexed by his words.  What… What exactly did he mean by that? Shaking your thoughts away, you had enough wine in your system to finally get the words spilling from your lips. “Theo… Wanna dance?” Those three words prickled his ear drums and he turned to look at you with a judging smirk. “Is it playtime, Hondje?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at his expected remark, climbing off your bar stool and tapping your heeled foot on the black tile beneath you. Looking at him expectantly, your heart clenched, momentarily regretting your decision to build up the courage to take the first step. He was bound to embarass you somehow.
“I’m sure you can find lots of other pups and mutts to play with in that disgusting pile of bodies.” An affronted expression washed over his handsome face and you resisted the need to slap his smugness away. You began to tremble slightly and snapped at him “You suck, Theo!”. His reaction made you freeze for a second. His eyes were taking you in, gliding over your body from head to toe before locking with yours. “Would you like to take me for a test drive? Are you in heat, Hondje?” he practically purred.
“Fuck you, Theo.” Was he capable of doing anything but frustrate (and arouse) you? You could feel an intense heat building inside of you, your heart beating angrily in your chest as you seethed from his response. You blinked, completely outraged and offended as he dared to freaking chuckle at your contained outburst.
“You wish. Now, can you go bark at someone else and let me enjoy my bloody drink?” Not wanting to give him more of your precious time, you actually flipped him the bird this time, scowling at him in disbelief, all that wine in your blood giving way for your tongue to sharpen as the night went on. “Do you always have to be such an ass?”
The ear-splitting grin on Theo’s face suddenly transformed into a smirk… and a scowl? when a young man behind you asked you to dance. You couldn’t really register what the guy was saying. Something along the lines of “ I don’t know if he’s just stupid or blind” and honestly, you kind of agreed with him. As much as Theodorus Van Gogh was a genius at what he did, he was stupid for not giving in to you. You were ready to give him… your everything. You were in deep shit, being so in love with a man who would possibly not return your affections? He looked like the incarnation of heartbreak and didn’t that just make you giddy? Being around him almost made you… sarchotic.
Sarchotic or not. Now you had his full attention.
Those ocean blue eyes were trained on you, an unfamiliar predatorial aura reverberating from him, still seeping through Theodorus’ attempt to enshroud it with the negligible quirk of those lips, that half-smile that you knew too well. If he wanted a show, he’s gonna be getting one. Not that you really cared whether he enjoyed it or not, but the least you could do is actually enjoy the company of the… You looked at your newly appointed dance partner, who had just lead you to the dancefloor, to evaluate him.
Okay, he wasn’t too bad: a bit shorter and less muscular than Theo but his hair were waves of chocolate brown that were simply asking to be threaded through and pulled. You beamed at your partner, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through your blood, knowing that the handsome Dutch man had his eyes on you and you were going to put a damn show. Wait, it wasn’t a show. You were doing this for you. You didn’t give a fuck and just wanted to have some fun. Looking at the cutie in front of you, you raised your arms in the air and jumped to the beat of the music, body-rolling as you let the sinful rhythm of your racing thoughts lead your every movement. ***I wanted it, I needed it, I love the way your skin felt upon my skin, And I thought you felt the same but you threw me away, Threw me away and still
The man in front of you was definitely getting into the groove, slowly inching close to you and you were more than ready to welcome him. Your hands that were in the air were now resting on his shoulders, your fingers finding the inviting chocolate strands of his hair. His hands were on both sides of your hips, claiming control over the frantic sway of your hips, matching the booming tempo that filled the room. You licked your lips and bit them, feeling your heart race as you snuck a quick look at the bar counter, the expression on Theodorus’ face was absolutely feral… and bloodthirsty.
Good thing you had bitten your lips because you were about to let out an obscene moan as he looked like he was ready to slam you into a wall and fuck you senseless, growling in your ear: You’re already so wet for me, Hondje, so ready for me to slide inside you…. You’ve been teasing me all damn night and when I stuff you with my cock, make you mine… You’ll be screaming my name. A looming presence was suddenly behind you, a hand gripping your hip and forcefully pulling you away from the “cutie”. You had absolutely no idea what happened, when it happened and how it happened. You could’ve sworn that you heard something along the lines of “She’s mine” but it was most probably your brain playing tricks on you. Or not.
“Are you trying to play games with me, Knabbeltje?” His heavy hand on your hip clenched tightly, his fingertips digging in your soft flesh while you drank in the rumble of his voice in your ear, velvety smooth yet deep enough to shake you to the bone, capable of making your knees buckle in weakness. You fought the temptation to rub your legs together and continued the lascivious sway of your hips from side to side in a rhythm that was your own and one that Theodorus would come to learn. Cutie, who? Theodorus was the only person you knew. All your senses acutely aware of him and he made sure of that. Only a breath of air seperated your bodies yet, he was so close but still felt so far before he yanked your back brusquely, your back hitting the vast plain of his chest and the softness of your derriere grazing his crotch. You closed your eyes and hummed with a nonchalant tone, your back arching as you reached your arms behind you, gripping Theo by his nape and threading your digits leisurely through his chestnut locks.
“You really want to know, hm?” You crooned and he tensed briefly but soon relaxed behind you, one hand caressing the curve of your hips, his hold on you was firm and steady, making you feel the heat radiating from his body and enveloping you with the scent of his cologne mixed with whiskey, intoxicating you even more than the wine you drank.
One of his large hands snakes up the curve of your waist, lightly grazing the side of your soft mound and trailing up your neck and resting there. He rolled his hips against yours, your body following his every moment as he dictated your every single motion. The warmth of his breath tickled your ear as he crooned sultrily in your ear. “I could eat you all up, Knabbeltje… right fucking now.” I don't wanna feel rejection, don't wanna have no regrets… Is this a good decision or will you look for someone else? Leave me all by myself...
“Is that so?” you could hear your own smile in your voice and could hear an inherent raspiness in it too. Your thoughts swiveled with yearning and your judgement was clouded by your love for this man… and your inebriation. Your mutual ministrations continued as he grinded his hips at an excruciating pace, drawing out the torture that you were both suffering from. His long fingers were now teasing the column of your neck, careening over your sensitive skin and sending shivers up and down your spine. Slowly, he wrapped his hand on your neck, pressing only lightly and bit the tip of your earlobe before sucking on it, letting his tongue glide over its seams. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. You want me to repeat myself?”
“I didn’t say any such thing, Theodorus.” You dared to use his full name, intentionally triggering him. His grip tightened on your neck and warm breath caressing your ear. “I’m not all bark like you.” He truly thought that you were all bark but you were prepared and intended to do lots of biting, now that he was so near. You tightened your grip on his strands, making him groan in response. “I hate that you make me feel this way.” you breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the tightening of anticipation rousing in your chest. “Enlighten me… What kind of way do I make you feel, hm?” It was now his turn to tease you. “You know how I feel about you…” you pouted, grudgingly taking a sharp inhale before you carried on with this morphed, semblance of a confession. “You keep… you keep messing with my head, Theo.”
“You’re doing much worse to me, mijn liefste.” Oh God, you didn’t know what he said but you were positive that it was not some dog related insult and your heart drummed even harder in your chest. Why did this man have so much control over you? His voice was like whiskey and chocolate, dark, decadent and  heavy with yearning, a blazing fire in your core, an excited tremor coursed through your veins like lightning, but not once did you rush the wicked to and fro of your hips, brushing your softness against the harsh ropes of sinew that made him the Adonis that he was.
Your cheeks were rosy as the pink dusk that painted clear skies and he saw that as you twisted your chest to look back and up at him. His fierce stare reflected in your glimmering eyes, your pupils dilating clearly, making them appear almost darkened in their shade. It would be blasphemous to say that Theodorus was anything but completely mesmerizing. “Don’t give me those eyes, Knabbeltje... or I promise I’ll take you here and now.”
I love to see you smile, I love, my love… As much as the thought had you reeling, you wanted the awaited spectacle to be a private one. Gazing straight in his almost glowing orbs of sapphire, he had the look of a man who was born ready to ravage you and rearrange your insides. Leaning down, he drawled against your lips with a huskiness that sent you into a frazzled state of need.
“When I fuck you, I’m going to make sure you always remember it. The only thing that’s gonna spill from those pretty lips is my name.”
------------ Read Part II  HERE.  Tagging le Theo simp squad + those who have been so kind to send me their ideas on what the “dirty dancing scenario” should be like: @delicateikemenmemes @sweetlittlemouse @nad-zeta @nafeary @raymiazaki @munarisblog @karmaaf​ (sorry if I forgot anyone else)  Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist
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