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#now with luck i might manage to finish all of them
hirodraga · 2 months
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today i offer you more hellrider art. tomorrow? who knows.
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hangmanssunnies · 4 months
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The Hangman Special
Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
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Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word count: 7k
AO3 Link
Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.
Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.
"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare." 
The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game. 
When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss." 
"What?!" 
"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"
"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex. 
Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"
"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you. 
"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare. 
With absolutely no intention of  backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out. 
"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous. 
Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you. 
Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep. 
"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face. 
"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once. 
"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you." 
"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?" 
"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam. 
"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?" 
"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask. 
"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you. 
Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close. 
With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take. 
However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist. 
"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely. 
Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him. 
"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger." 
You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing. 
"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency." 
"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles." 
"Naw, you don't got to." 
"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender. 
"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer. 
"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."
"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor. 
"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head. 
"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount." 
"And what is that?" 
"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends." 
Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?" 
Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends. 
"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."
"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation." 
"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes. 
"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there." 
"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.
"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. 
You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal." 
"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh. 
"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual. 
"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?" 
"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out." 
Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check. 
"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly. 
Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck. 
He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away. 
You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch. 
Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?" 
"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely. 
"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder. 
"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see." 
"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.
"That's some good luck on your part." 
"It wasn't luck, not really."
"How do you mean?" He wonders. 
"I knew they would pick you." 
"What made you so confident?"
"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed. 
"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again. 
"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."
"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight." 
"You're a flirt," you accuse him. 
"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it." 
Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there." 
"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "
"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"
"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.
"You have?" You ask, completely surprised. 
"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?" 
"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning. 
Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight. 
"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time. 
"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him. 
"Where you going?" He pouts. 
"I just need to grab my purse." 
"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls. 
"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.
"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear." 
The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like." 
"That a promise?" Jake asks.
"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you. 
"Do you want some company?" 
"You don't have to." 
"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits. 
"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"
"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"
"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."
"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things. 
Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you." 
"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.
"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them. 
"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse." 
"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously. 
Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?" 
"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type." 
"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting. 
"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply. 
"I don't think that's true," you snap back. 
"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly. 
"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight." 
"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place. 
"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment. 
"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says. 
"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head. 
Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach. 
"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind. 
"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both. 
"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.  
"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?" 
"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you. 
He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours. 
Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.
When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers. 
Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him. 
"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms. 
"I'm fine," you reassure him. 
"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?" 
"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."
"Yeah? Let's make it happen then." 
"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House." 
Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped. 
"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence. 
"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off. 
"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again. 
"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now. 
"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now." 
As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you. 
Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?" 
"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that." 
"What do you mean?" 
"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me." 
"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot." 
"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it. 
Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours. 
"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible." 
"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow. 
"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think." 
"That makes sense," he concedes. 
"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier." 
"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.
"Why not?" You ask confused. 
"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.
"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?" 
"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside. 
"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought. 
"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings. 
"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you. 
"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat. 
The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story. 
After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him. 
Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes. 
"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit. 
"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'." 
"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 
"You know, whinnies?" 
It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?" 
"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there." 
"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"
"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.
"So why did you end up at Gem's?" 
"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you." 
"You were at the bar just to see me?"
"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."
"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder. 
"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly. 
"You're not going to let that go, are you?" 
"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.
"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?" 
"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises. 
"How would you have kissed me for the first time?" 
"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright.  He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want." 
Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own. 
There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional. 
The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control. 
Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong,  consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing? 
“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together.  “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.” 
“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you. 
“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.” 
“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it. 
“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself. 
“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?” 
“I'm not.” 
“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now  because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”
Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual. 
Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea. 
"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in. 
"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder. 
"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."
"Jake..."
"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang." 
"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?" 
"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal." 
"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.
"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.
"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing. 
"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."
"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout. 
"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four." 
"I want five," you declare stubbornly.
"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers. 
You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more. 
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zhongrin · 11 months
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“honey, can you… help adjust my bra straps?”
— how does he react to your silly attempt to fluster him?
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, kaeya, wanderer, tighnari, diluc, kaveh, xiao
◇ tags ◇ gn pronouns but reader has boobs, fluff, crack, suggestive (al haitham, childe, ayato)
◇ a/n ◇ i have no idea where this idea came from but just take it off my hands thanks
𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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zhongli doesn't even flinch or blink. he merely smiles that mysterious and handsome smile of his, wordlessly standing behind you to calmly adjust the straps; making sure they’re fitted snugly, not too loose but not too tight, just the way he knows you like it.
he finishes with a soft, intimate kiss to the junction of your neck right after, and if he’s feeling risqué you might even feel a little nibble. it seems like the turns have tabled.
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at your request, al haitham hums airily and does as asked, checking up on you every time he tightened the straps, to make sure they aren’t digging onto your shoulders. when he finishes, he tells you you look good and he can’t wait to pull them off you later in a matter-of-fact manner before going back to reading his book nonchalantly.
well then. guess you’ve gained an unplanned activity in your schedule today.
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childe eyes you with mischief twinkling in his blue eyes, and if he judges that you’re indeed in a playful mood, he’ll slip his hands under your bra to grab your boobs, without any shame whatsoever. he laughs merrily if you protest and try to slap his hands away, but if you do anything borderline scandalous or tease back?
oh, you better be prepared, comrade.
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diluc almost splutters in embarrassment, but he somehow barely manages to catch his composure from slipping at the very last moment.
he’s gentle as he fixes the straps, smoothening the stretchy fabric and making sure he’s not hurting you in any way as he adjusts it to your liking. your fiercely blushing lover presses a kiss to your shoulder when he’s done and avoids your eyes when you thank him.
go ahead, push him more, make him break that composure.
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did you just try and fluster kaeya? welp, unfortunately for you, his instinct is to retaliate by teasing you to no end.
that is not to say that he doesn’t help, however. he’ll still do it, but you best be prepared for him doing so while whispering sweet nothings into your ear all the while. he chuckles when you tell him it’s enough, and with one last kiss on your cheek he walks away - but not before he lightly snaps one of the straps against your skin; not enough to hurt but just as a playful gesture.
better luck next time, darling.
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wanderer rolls his eyes, “do it yourself,” he says with a huff. he can’t blush, but honestly, if he could, he probably would have - because seriously, what kind of stupid request did you just ask him to do??
it’s only when you huff back and threaten him with a hissy “fine then, i’ll just ask someone else.” does he relent.
he does it while grumbling all the while, by the way.
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ayato merely chuckles and proceeds to tease you with a snarky “should i get a maid to help you get dressed from now on, dear?”
he ponders for a while as he touches the soft material and a cunning smile spreads across his handsomeness, along with a half-playful, half-serious, “actually, scratch the idea, i’d rather do the putting-on and taking-off myself.”
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cyno splutters and chokes on his own spit at the sudden request.
for a moment, he’s utterly baffled; was this a normal request one would commonly ask of a lover? he has no idea, but he could never refuse you anyway, so he nervously does it under your guidance, ever so benignly, as if he’s afraid he’ll somehow hurt you in the process.
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tighnari’s reply is as snarky as usual and accompanied by an affectionate roll of his eyes, “alright, your royal highness.”
he plays with the material for a while, trying to gauge your reactions, because he’s almost pretty sure that you don’t need actual help - that you’re just asking to get a rise out of him.
and if he judges that his hunch is correct? well, he’ll still help you, but he might bite you (lovingly) in retaliation.
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kaveh can’t help his sappy ass from crooning and giving you an affectionate back hug while praising your ethereal beauty before actually doing the task you require him to do. he’s talking all the while about how pretty your skin is and how he loves seeing it in its most natural state with every discoloration and bumps and freckles and moles and all its perfection. but god forbid the strap was digging into your shoulder and leaving a red mark on your skin, for he would gasp in horror and offer you to buy a better brassiere that would fit you more with his nonexistent money.
it’s okay, he can just uh- sell some of this stuff. like... his rulers! yes. he can use his claymore to measure things, don’t you even worry!
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xiao teleports away in embarrassment the first time it happened.
the second time, he freezes in place, eyes wide, cheeks bursting in red, before he teleports away into the wind. again.
the third time around, he reacts similarly, only this time, he’s scowling at you with those blushes on his cheeks instead of running away. in fact, he’s approaching you, and he grumbles a soft “you’re definitely doing this to tease me. no respect for the adepti.” his hand trembles as he helps you, but when you kiss him as thanks he thinks perhaps he wouldn’t mind suffering from embarrassment if you’re going to reward him this way.
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town
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luminnara · 2 months
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Unheavenly Creatures Part Two | Feyd-Rautha x reader (NSFW)
PART ONE
Summary: in the wake of an arena victory on his name day, Feyd rautha blows off some steam with his darlings.
MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
Read this fic on AO3 under the same account name, luminnara!
Warnings: group sex/foursome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of cannibalism, canon typical violence, it’s Feyd-Rautha it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, bloodplay, biting, marking, possessiveness, the whole shebang
Word count: 4.6k
Note: I have been desperately trying to find any info I can on the harpies, and I have not managed much 🥲 so pls enjoy my headcanons and made up names ily bye
Tags: @austinswhitewolf @aeilani @maneater17 @serrendiipty @belovedbastardremus @the-dark-dreamer25
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It was a day of celebration, and the entire palace—no, city—was abuzz. Inside, a feast was nearly finished, a kitchen full of cooks working day and night for a week to prepare the na-Baron’s favorite dishes. Outside, beneath a black sun, the citizens of Giedi Prime sat cheering in the arena, drinking in the sight of their beloved Feyd-Rautha as he gutted the last of the Atreides warriors. Even as you made your way back to the palace, the roar of the crowd was deafening, their penchant for bloodshed seemingly increased tenfold on this special day.
“Come,” one of the women next to you said, her voice a high, breathy hiss.
“Feyd will want us,” the other smiled, her black teeth contrasting dramatically against her near-white skin.
Feyd-Rautha’s darlings had been quick to accept you as one of them. You suspected it was partly because they didn’t dare question him, though you had seen occasional instances of what could be considered mild defiance from them in your short time on Giedi Prime. They, and you, were permitted to act out on occasion, though none of you were foolish enough to do so in a way that would cast an ill light on your beloved na-Baron. And he was your beloved—with each passing day, you grew more and more comfortable with the Harkonnen heir, and more and more certain that he adored you.
“We will feast on Atreides tonight,” Issa sighed.
“Feyd will reward us,” Yarina said, looking down at you with a grin.
You returned it.
As the three of you walked down the hall, moving as a single, predatory unit, Harkonnen and guests alike were quick to move out of the way. You heard the whispers, caught the curious, sometimes shocked stares as you passed. Feyd’s darlings were rarely seen wandering, and as such, even members of the Harkonnen nobility found themselves stunned by the sighting.
You kept pace with the others as you walked, mindful of the carefully curated air they liked to keep about them. They were both exquisite examples of Harkonnen beauty, equally as dangerous as they were lovely, and though you still did not know much about who they had been before Feyd chose them as concubines, you enjoyed their company. It was a good thing, too; now, you spent nearly every moment with them, and when you weren’t with them, it was because you were alone with Feyd-Rautha.
Some nights, he called you to his bed, having his way with you, whispering things in your ear that he would never say during the daylight hours. Things he reserved only for you. At night, Feyd-Rautha could be almost kind, and you came to suspect that he loved his darlings, in his own way; otherwise, why would you all be allowed to touch him, to pleasure him, to feast with him?
You had never expected that you might become a concubine for the heir of one of the Houses. As a child, you had often dreamt of becoming a princess and being swept away through the stars to wed your handsome prince. But you were no noble; your parents bore no titles, and the closest you were ever meant to come to greatness was when you served your former masters. Was it luck that had brought you where you were today, freely roaming the Harkonnen palace while you awaited your beloved Feyd-Rautha? Or had fate played a trick on you, giving you close to what you had always wanted while still refusing you any title or noble birth? Perhaps it was better this way; perhaps you would enjoy your life as a concubine far more than you would if you had been a lady of the court.
Perhaps the universe had known you would one day commit violent acts, and planned a fitting role for you. If you hadn’t killed your father all those years ago, would you even be on Giedi Prime now? Would Feyd-Rautha had cared at all about the handmaiden who had wandered too far? Perhaps he would have killed you, seeing you as expendable. He would have slit your throat, and his uncle the Baron would have pretended he cared enough to apologize to the Lord and Lady you had served. They would have gotten someone new, and you would have been easily and quickly disposed of.
Perhaps Feyd would have fed you to his darlings.
How strange the wheel of fate was.
“What are you thinking about?” Issa asked you, tilting her head as she looked at you curiously. Her voice was always breathy and alien, a dreamlike quality within it. It matched her appearance and yet it didn’t, making her seem even less human than her black teeth and eyes did.
“Yes, you seem so far away,” Yarina agreed, her accent more akin to the na-Baron’s than Issa’s. You had been on Giedi Prime long enough now to recognize differences in accent and dialect, and had begun trying your best to imitate Feyd’s in an attempt to better fit in. You had no idea if it was working or not, but no one had commented on it yet, which you took to be a good sign.
“My House allied with House Harkonnen,” you said as the three of you neared Feyd-Rautha’s chambers.
��Your former House,” Issa corrected, raising a hand to stroke your cheek. “You are Harkonnen now.”
“I do not look Harkonnen.”
“You do.” Yarina pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
This was normal with them, you had come to learn; they touched casually and constantly, always in contact with each other and now you by default.
“There is no doubt my former Mistress, or at least her husband, is visiting for the celebration.” You said.
“Perhaps our lovely Feyd-Rautha will kill them for you,” Yarina offered.
“Perhaps our lovely Feyd-Rautha will allow us to kill them,” Issa grinned.
You did not know if you wanted that to happen.
You followed them through the door and into Feyd’s living quarters, settling on the large bed while you waited for him. You could imagine him stalking through the halls, bright red Atreides blood painting his chest and face as he hurried back to you. He would kill or maim anyone who stood in his way or tried to slow him down. He was always wild after a fight in the arena, and he always came to you hot and hard and ravenous.
You hoped today would be no exception.
“He must hurry,” Issa pouted as she lounged next to you. “I’m growing hungry.”
“He will come,” Yarina sighed. “He would never let us starve.”
You weren’t sure if they were talking about sex, or food, or both, but you always marveled at the way they spoke of Feyd. They knew how dangerous and callous he could be, but to the harpies, that was normal. If he was a lion, then they were the lionesses; just as cunning, just as regal, just as hungry. Whenever you walked alongside them, you learned more of how to be like them. You learned how to keep your head held high in a room of Harkonnen men, confident that none but Feyd-Rautha would dare to touch you lest they lose a limb or their life. You learned how to stomach the violence that the na-Baron enacted so frequently, and even how to anticipate it eagerly. You had changed in your time on Giedi Prime, and you were becoming more and more like your fellow concubines by the minute.
When you finally heard heavy, determined footfalls outside, you perked up. The door opened not a moment later, revealing a bloodied Feyd-Rautha, his chest heaving and his gaze dark as he crossed the room, eyes glued to you. There was no time to be scared before he was upon you, cupping your face in both hands as he kissed you hungrily, greedily, sharply biting at your lip. You gasped involuntarily and he was quick to force his tongue past your teeth, exploring your mouth while a hand moved to squeeze at your breast.
You felt a soft hand press against the back of your neck as one of the other harpies held you, her body supporting you as Feyd-Rautha pushed you down. The other moved onto her knees, undressing him quickly before leaning in to lick blood off the side of his face.
He moved to catch her lips in his and you gasped for air, heart racing as hands pulled at your dress. Craning your neck, you saw that Issa was behind you, her hands now massaging your breasts as she leaned over you.
Feyd easily threw Yarina down next to you, the bed rocking slightly. He paused, panting as he stood and looked down at his three darlings, all still clothed while he was bare. His full lips curled into a smirk, eyes raking over your bodies as he crawled over you once more.
“This must go,” he said simply, taking a fistful of your dress and pulling.
One of the others sucked in an excited breath, quickly taking the torn scraps and tossing them to the floor.
Feyd-Rautha dove for your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses against the soft flesh as his strong arms caged you in. Someone’s hand slipped between your thighs and you opened your legs obediently, feeling slender fingers stroking you as you were prepared to take the na-Baron.
It wasn’t the first time you had all been together like this. After you had settled in and grown more comfortable with the others, Feyd had permitted them to watch as he bedded you. They had both been fascinated by the small amount of body hair Feyd chose to let you keep, and you had been fascinated by the way no one, not even Feyd-Rautha, had touched you intimately without permission, or at least without being expressly told not to.
This wasn’t the first time you had felt those fingers inside you. When the three of you were alone, the others taught you how to please Feyd-Rautha. They had perfected it to a science, and it reminded you of some of the rumored Bene Gesserit teachings you had heard of; secretive, calculated, confident. Always in control, even when it seemed that they were not. You had been surprised to learn that the na-Baron was vulnerable in front of his concubines, shocked, even, by what you had seen when he took them to bed; for he was not always demanding and petulant, but also subservient. The others knew how to give him what he truly wanted and needed, and that was sometimes the permission to be a different man while behind closed doors.
Today, though, that was not what he wanted nor needed. Today was a day for chaos, for Bacchanalia. Today, Feyd-Rautha’s feral energy was driving him into a frenzy, teeth sinking into whatever he could find as he marked you with his bites over and over.
“Yes,” you gasped as fingers pushed deeper into you. “Oh, yes…”
Feyd tore himself away from your neck to devour another’s lips, his hips grinding against yours as a pair of hands wrapped themselves around his cock and began stroking. The bed was a tangle of limbs and the air was heavy with breathy moans, no one quite sure of where anyone ended and anyone else began.
When you felt the head of his cock prodding at your entrance, you moaned, and it came out almost choked. There, surrounded by so many bodies, you felt hot and slick all over, already sweating before the real work had even begun. Your voice was thick in your throat as you begged for him, pleading with him to please fuck you, please use you…and he obliged, because you were saying exactly the right things to make him drunk with lust.
“Feyd,” you whispered, hands searching for him.
“M’darling,” he groaned as he pressed his face into Issa’s neck, the sound guttural and primal.
“Please,” you whimpered as Yarina ran her hands over your front. Your thighs tensed in an attempt to soothe the needy ache between them, but Feyd-Rautha was in the way, like a solid tower of muscle and flesh that refused to give. “Feyd please!”
He was faring no better than you. His cock ached and wept as it slid over your lips, now wet with your own arousal and throbbing with need as blood pooled in your groin. With each teasing thrust of his hips you grew more desperate, breaths coming in whiny pants as you huffed and begged, chest heaving as your back arched up off of the bed.
As Feyd-Rautha allowed himself to be guided into you, he groaned that deep, heady groan, the one that always had you melting and turning to putty in his hands. You gasped at the feeling of his cock sinking deeper and deeper, slowly, until his skin brushed yours and you swore you could feel him in your womb.
When his hips rocked back you let out a strangled moan, and when he pushed into you once more you made a noise that would be considered filthy back on your home planet. Feyd-Rautha had a tendency to bring those noises out of you, and fill your head with thoughts that some would be disgusted by. As he fucked into you with ever-increasing brutality, though, he reminded you why you were so happy living with him now. Looking up into his dark eyes that watched you while his lips brushed over another woman’s shoulder as she held him, you felt nothing but lust and glee and adoration. Sharing him was easy when you were part of a set like this, and when you were all together as one moving, breathing creature.
His gaze was intense. You knew he loved watching you as he pleasured himself with you. Sex was like war for him, each bedding a conquest, each fuck a battle. You were never his enemy, though; you were his prey.
And you enjoyed being caught.
“Feyd,” the harpy behind you called in her hissing voice.
He tore his lips from Yarina’s flesh, leaning over you as his hips continued thrusting, meeting Issa above you. He attacked her hungrily, hands gripping her roughly as his speed movements grew more erratic. You knew he was becoming more and more frenzied by the sighs and moans, his kisses turning to bites. You watched, enraptured, as he sank his teeth into her shoulder, a bead of dark blood running down her breasts and dripping onto your cheek.
Yarina made an excited sound and dove around Feyd-Rautha, intent on licking it up. Before she could, he released Issa, shoving her aside as he snarled at Yarina, hands coming down on other side of your head as he caged you in once more.
She hissed at him, jealous and hungry, moving instead to suck at the wound the blood had oozed from. The na-Baron huffed a ragged laugh, baring his black and bloody teeth as he grinned at them, then down at you.
“You will have your turn,” he said to them while looking at you. “You will never go hungry.”
You knew he was speaking of both literal and sexual appetites, and that he meant it; there was plenty of blood and plenty of him to go around, and he was incredibly good at balancing his attentions between all three of you. Though his concubines were meant to serve him, at times it seemed as though that was achieved by him serving you—ensuring that all of you were happy, proving that you were well cared for in all ways. When his darlings were happy, Feyd-Rautha was happy. You could almost call it love.
His love was harsh, though; as he gazed down at you, you felt as if you were the only one in the universe, drawn in to those dark eyes, and you obediently turned your head and bared your throat to him. He relished the sight, and the willingness, and the vulnerability. He could kill you so easily like this, with his cock buried inside you and his teeth in your flesh. A part of him longed to spill your blood everywhere; you knew because he had said so before.
But he wouldn’t kill you.
You were his.
And he was shockingly gentle with his things, reverent when it came to their care. His knives, lovingly and proudly displayed on the wall, another hidden in the bed in case of emergency, were always sharpened. His favorites were sharpened by him, because he trusted no one else with them, much they same as how he trusted no one else with you.
As his teeth sank into you, he moaned, relishing the feeling of having you there in his jaws. He could crush you if he really tried, if not with his teeth then with his hands. But as he held you close and swept his tongue over the sore mark he had left, you knew he never would. You were safe with him, as odd as that felt.
“You are so beautiful like this,” he breathed as you gazed up at him.
“You are as well,” you replied, smiling at the admission.
He kissed you, deeply and seriously, not a hint of those teeth. It was pure, in a way, just like his care for you was; not pure in the innocent sense, nor the good sense, but pure in that it was simple and primal. It wasn’t evil. It wasn’t overtly just. It simply was.
Then, he nipped at your lower lip, sharply enough to draw blood, and he sucked at it greedily. You felt a tingle in your core, something uncoiling within you. When you brought your legs up and hooked your heels around him, he pushed into you even further, as if he wanted to force himself inside your very skin. When he dropped his head next to yours, you knew he was close—and when he bit into you again, you shrieked, and you knew you were close as well.
“Fuck,” he growled against you. “Move.”
You immediately unlatched your ankles and he pulled out, painting your front in his seed. Marking you as his once more.
He tilted his head as he looked at you. You writhed beneath him, hips bucking as you searched for him, so close to your own end and yet now feeling devoid and empty.
“Shh, pet,” he cooed, reaching between your legs. “I will care for you.”
You were nearly in tears as you watched him, far beyond the ability to speak coherently as he toyed with your swollen clit. His mouth moved to your inner thigh and he bit, drawing blood, leaving a trail of marks. The sounds that left your throat were desperate and wanton, echoing off the high ceiling of his chambers as Feyd-Rautha made quick work of you. Your pleasure was agony and beauty, and as he dragged you down over the edge, your voice felt hoarse from your cries and moans.
Anyone passing by in the corridor would hear.
You did not care.
You would never be ashamed of the sounds you made when Feyd-Rautha pleasured you, and as he bent down to swipe his tongue over you and lap at your wetness, you felt a smug sense of achievement. There was the na-Baron, on his knees, tending to his low-birth, off-planet concubine.
He pressed a kiss to the deepest bite mark. “Exquisite.”
Then, you were gently moved aside, and he began anew with one of the others. Though he was selfish, your pleasure was his, and he worked through the three of you however he pleased, always ensuring you were sated. You watched in fascination as he made them writhe, and when he allowed his own skin to be broken, you sucked at the wound, tasting the strange Harkonnen blood on your tongue and appreciating the fact that you were probably the only person from your home planet to have ever been given the chance.
How strange, the things you appreciated now.
-0-
“Something troubles you tonight,” a rough voice commented.
You turned your head to look at its owner. “Why do you say that?”
“You aren’t in bed with the others.” Feyd-Rautha approached you, coming to stand behind you.
He was right; you had initially found sleep to come easily after a long day of celebrations and feasting, your aching body in desperate need of rest. But after some time you had awoken, and it was impossible to close your eyes again. So you had dressed yourself in a black robe and slipped away, escaping to the balcony window down the corridor.
“My apologies,” you mumbled, looking down at the railing.
His chest brushed your back as his hands gripped your elbows. “You shouldn’t be out alone.”
“I know, but—“
“I was worried.”
His admission made you pause. When you glanced up at him, you saw that he was serious, jaw tense as he looked down at you.
“You were?” You asked, staring at him with wide, black eyes.
“I was.” His voice was stern. “It is not safe.”
“I’ve wandered these halls before,” you said, a hint of amusement in your tone. “Even before I joined you.”
“You were a guest.” He said. “I was your greatest threat then.”
“I wasn’t afraid of you.” You jutted your chin up towards him.
“I know,” he grinned. “When you told how best to spill your guts so as not to ruin the meat, I knew.” Then, he grew serious once more. “I also knew I must have you, and no one else would touch you.”
“No one here would dare.” You said haughtily. “They know better than to play us.”
“That is not what I worry about, my darling.” Feyd-Rautha placed his hands on the railing in front of you, leaning his chin on the top of your head as he looked out over Giedi Prime. “I am the heir to the Harkonnen throne.”
“You’re an important man,” you furrowed your brow. “What of it? Does that not guarantee me protection?”
“You are a target.”
“…na-Baron, I am a concubine, not a bride.” You scoffed. “There would be no reason for any political adversary to—“
“Feyd.” He growled.
“Wh-what?”
“Call. Me. Feyd.”
You gulped. “I-I’m sorry, Feyd.”
“Don’t…” he heaved a sigh, steadying himself. “Don’t apologize, darling.”
He was silent for a moment, and you weren’t sure whether to feel safe or uncomfortable.
“All of Giedi Prime knows how important my darlings are.” He continued. “You are safe when you are with me. But I cannot guarantee that safety when you are alone.”
Feyd-Rautha turned his head, leaning his cheek against you. It was an oddly intimate movement; in fact, the entire situation felt more akin to one that should take place with husband and wife, not murderous na-Baron and concubine.
“I am only a concubine,” you said again, voice small.
He barked a cruel laugh. “Is that what you tell yourself?”
You winced at the harsh sound. “It is the truth.”
“My darlings,” he began, his voice low, anger simmering just below its surface, “are much more to me than simple concubines.” He turned you in his arms, forcing you to lean back against the railing. “Surely you know this…or do you turn your nose up at me?”
You recognized the glint of anger in his eyes and felt panic rising. He couldn’t really think you hated him, could he? “Feyd, no…”
He gritted his teeth as he glared down at you. “The little off-world pet, too good for the likes of the barbarian prince…I know what the Great Houses say about me.”
His hands drifted down to grab at the thin fabric of your robe, grabbing it in bunches as he hiked it up. He paused for a moment and you realized he was listening, for your quickening breaths and heartbeat, and you watched as something in his eyes shifted.
“They call me psychotic.” He nosed at one of the bite marks on your neck. “What do you think, darling? Are they correct?”
“Y-yes, Feyd.” You stammered, both frightened and excited by the game you now realized he was playing.
He made a thoughtful noise as a hand slipped past your robe, fingers finding your swollen, used folds and plunging inside. “What else?”
“Th-they say you are bloodthirsty,” your breath hitched as his thumb brushed your clitoris.
“Am I?”
“Yes, Feyd,” you gasped at the addition of another finger.
A sick smile twisted itself onto his face. “What do they say about me on your home planet, darlin?”
“That you are v-violent,” you steadied yourself with a hand on his bare chest as your thighs trembled. “That you kill without second thought. That you are cruel and crave violence with every breath.”
Some of it you had made up; truly, you had never heard anyone on your planet speak in great length about the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. In fact, most people on most planets probably didn’t even know who he was. But for the sake of his ego, and for the hand between your thighs to continue its work, you exaggerated, and it worked. Despite a long day of fighting and fucking and enjoying spice, Feyd-Rautha was awake, attentive, and ravenous.
“And what does my darling think?” He asked, rubbing your clit as he twisted his fingers inside you.
“I-I think—!” You gasped, eyes wide at the sensation, wetness pooling around his hand, “Feyd—!”
“Answer me,” he purred, amused.
“I think that you are all that and more!” You blurted, tears pricking the edges of your modified eyes.
“Good pet,” he caught your lips in a kiss and focused his efforts on your clitoris, allowing and encouraging you to reach your peak on his hand.
And you did, of course you did. You always finished with Feyd, oftentimes before him. As your orgasm overtook you, he breathed you in, devouring you in his adoration.
As you came down, he leaned back, pulling his hand away and watching your flushed face as he licked the taste of you off of his fingers.
“Delicious,” he rumbled, looking at you with a hunger in his eyes.
Then, he placed his hands on your shaky hips and turned you, and before you had even caught your breath, his cock was inside you for the second time that day. He squeezed your breast as he fucked you, pressing kisses along your spine that seemed far too gentle for the na-Baron, and again, you marveled at the way he treated his darlings.
“Do you see now?” He panted in your ear. “Do you see your importance? Only my darlings do this to me.”
Only his darlings made him so feral and so tame at the same time, because while he bit and tore and raged with you, he refused to truly break his favorite things.
“And you take me so well,” he growled, spending himself inside of you with a grunt.
Feyd leaned against you, pressing a kiss to your temple. You felt comfortable there, within the safety of his body. Nothing could harm you when you were with him; you were one of his darlings, and now, you were certain that he adored you.
“Come,” he said, pulling himself out of you and straightening up.
“Bed?” You asked as he easily swept you into his arms, carrying you back to his chambers.
“A bath,” he decided. “Then bed, with the others.”
And you smiled as he held you, so secure against his chest. Feyd-Rautha was everything you had said and more—he was a lover, as well, in his own way.
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starkwlkr · 2 months
Note
Could you do fic for Mark Webber with wife reader? (He's Oscar's manager) And they both acted like dad & mom toward Lando and Oscar, especially. Just them spending time together and worries for the boys whenever something goes wrong. Mark does his best to comfort her. Just something fluff and cute. Maybe a little surprise for Mark at the end. I'll let you decide what it was. Tag me later!! Thanks!! :))
work parents | mark webber
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thanks for the request!! @pear-1206
When you and Mark were dating, you supported him throughout his career in F1. Now that you were married and had a teenage daughter, you were supporting another person in F1, Oscar. He was young, talented and skilled. You were sure that in a couple of years he would be world champion. You tried to attend as many races as you could, mostly during the summer since your and Mark’s daughter was out of school. Your daughter was studying in Harvard at the moment meaning you and Mark haven’t seen her since spring break. She had secretly made plans to surprise you and Mark at the race. Oscar was the one that had gotten her a paddock pass.
It was Oscar’s first home race so you knew you had to attend. It was going to be a special one after all. You got up early to start getting ready while Mark was getting a few extra minutes of sleep.
Mark still asleep shirtless. He looked so peaceful that you didn’t want to bother him considering he arrived home late the night before, but you had a tight schedule to follow. You walked to the bed and gently placed a kiss on his cheek.
“Mark, you have to get up, honey. Oscar might already be waiting for us at the track. It’s race day.”
“Give me five minutes.” He mumbled.
“I’ll let you do anything when we get back—” You couldn’t even finish since Mark had gotten immediately.
“We wouldn’t want to keep Oscar waiting, hurry up, love.” He tried to give you a morning kiss but you stopped him. “What? Don’t act like you care about morning breath now.”
“I already put on lipstick—”
“And you can put it on again. I want to kiss my wife.” You rolled your eyes, but gave in.
As Mark got ready, you made sure you had your paddock passes. Eventually you made it out of the house and now you were on your way to the circuit. Mark had his hand on your thigh while the other was on the steering wheel. When you made it to the paddock entrance, Oscar was waiting with his girlfriend Lily.
“Hi, I hope we didn’t keep you waiting for too long.” You said as you exited the car. “Lily, so great to see you again.” You greeted the girl.
“Hi Mrs. Webber, great to see you too.” Lily replied.
The group of four made their way into paddock, greeting fans and photographers. Mark held your hand making you remember the times when you were still dating and Mark was still racing. You followed Mark and Oscar to the Mclaren garage since Lily had excused herself to go to the Mclaren motorhome. It felt nice to be back.
“Mrs. Webber!” Lando greeted you as soon as he saw you. “Lovely to see you as always.”
“Hi Lando.” You hugged the Brit.
“No mini Webber today?” He asked when he noticed your daughter wasn’t with you.
“No, she’s in Massachusetts. She sends luck to both of you though.” Mark responded.
Oscar wasn’t one to spill secrets, but when he knew something that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, he would act nervous. He absolutely hated it.
“She is? Nice, right? Who would’ve thought that mini Webber would go to Harvard!” Lando and Oscar were both called by Zak so they excused themselves from the couple.
“Okay . . .” You brushed it off as him being nervous about the race. You scooted closer to Mark. “First home race must be getting to him.” You whispered.
“I’ll take care of him, love.”
“Don’t forget about Lando.”
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The 2023 Australian Grand Prix was one big chaotic mess and you were there to witness it. It felt like a rollercoaster of emotions when the race was restarted again. After three red flags and 58 laps, Max had won.
“P8 for Oscar, what a race.” Mark said, sitting beside you. “You can let go of my hand now, honey, race is over.” He gestured to your hand that tightly held his. He couldn’t remember what lap you decided to hold it, but he didn’t mind.
“Thank fuck. I thought I was going to have a heart attack or something.” You let go. “I just wish my baby girl was here.”
“She’ll be home soon. Summer is just around the corner and then we’ll have a moody teen girl with a coffee addiction in our house. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
When Oscar got back to the garage, you and Mark were there to celebrate his points. “You did so well! Good job, Osc!” You hugged the driver.
“Thank you, Mrs. Webber.” Oscar smiled.
“Oh! Where’s Lando? Was it P6 or 7? Who cares? Points for the Mclaren boys!” You cheered as you left to go find Lando. Lando’s race engineer had told you that the driver was in his driver’s room so you walked to the room in search of the Brit.
As you were about to knock on the door, Lando and your daughter came out. Talk about perfect timing. . .
“Mum . . Hi.” Your daughter laughed nervously.
“Listen, I love you to death but what are you doing here? You should be in Boston!” You scolded the girl.
“This sounds like a family matter so I’m just going to go.” Lando tried to leave it you stepped in front of him. “Hi Mrs. Webber.” He innocently said.
“Good job on getting points.” You sighed and gave him a hug. “Now care to explain?”
“It was her idea! I am the true victim here!”
“You jerk!”
“Okay! Stop it.” You raised your voice. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”
“I wanted to surprise you and dad by coming here and Lando and Oscar were helping me so I hid here. I’m only here for a couple days . . I missed you guys.” She explained.
“Yeah, what she said.” Lando added.
“We missed you too. I am definitely surprised and dad will be too. Come on, we have to celebrate the Mclaren boys scoring points!” You grabbed your daughters hand and walked together to meet up with Mark and Oscar.
Lando stayed behind a bit confused. “You’re not mad at me, right Mrs. Webber?”
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yanderecrazysie · 3 months
Text
Twisted Zoo: Chapter One
This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .
Also @twistedcece @ursinaw  @thisisafish123 and @cenatour wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me!
Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 
Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.
WARNINGS: none for now
Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.
Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.
Thank you for everyone on Tumblr and Quotev for guessing! A lot of you have gotten ones right but there no one's gotten all of Heartslaybul (which makes me worry I did badly there)
Now, onto the Hyenas, Lions, and Wolves!
Prologue here
Next chapter here
—----------------------------------
Since the wolves were right across from the lions and hyenas, you would be expected to divide your time equally between the two for your first official day at The Halfling Zoo. That was a pain, since all three of those species were more active at night. 
“You’ll be doing today’s morning feedings, right?” a woman in the zoo’s uniform asked you.
“Yes, for the lions, hyenas, and wolves,” you replied cheerfully.
The woman gave a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness- the lions always look like they’re about to kill you if you make the wrong move. Good luck!”
You stared blankly at her retreating figure. You really wish she hadn’t said that, because now you were absolutely terrified to step foot in that enclosure. Mr. Crowley had said to you yesterday, among all the other welcoming ramblings, that you had to go into each exhibit and give the food directly to the halflings, as opposed to leaving the food near the door and waiting for them to come and grab it.
After the zoo keeper’s “encouraging” words, you decided to give food to the hyenas first.
The hyena halflings were easy to spot- the group of seven or so male halflings sat in a group, talking and laughing loudly. There was one boy in the center of the crowd, waving his hands emphatically as he conversed with his peers.
As soon as you approached the hyena halflings, the mood immediately shifted. The halflings took several steps back, the conversation ceasing at once, all of them staring at you through weary, distrustful eyes.
That’s right- male hyenas are submissive toward females since they are usually aggressive and stronger.
“It’s alright!” you tried to speak as soothingly as possible, putting down the bucket of steaks so you could raise your palms in a non-threatening manner. They watched you carefully, still distrustful.
Finally, the boy from the center of the crowd put his hands behind his head and strolled up nonchalantly, grabbing a steak from the bucket. Although he acted like it was no big deal, you didn’t miss the way he eyed you with a fearful gaze and skirted around you as though you might explode at any moment. 
The other hyena halflings caught on and, walking around you with extreme caution, they managed to fish their meals out of the bucket. The hyena from before came back for a second steak and, not long after, for a third. 
“What’s your name?” you asked him as he fished around for the best steak left in the bucket.
He stopped searching and turned his gaze on you once more. He seemed to size you up for a moment before saying something softly. “What was that?” you asked.
“Ruggie,” he said softly, his ears turning inwards and an annoyed pout making its way to his face.
“I like that name!” you said cheerily. Ruggie eyed you dubiously and finally pulled a steak from the bucket, racing back to the other hyenas. On his way, he looked over his shoulder at you, his gaze uncertain.
You felt like you had made progress.
Now it was time to feed the lions, and the thought made your feet feel like lead. You were not looking forward to a lion halfling murdering you over a steak. 
A part of you wondered if some of the halflings really did prefer this life- or at least, the food. You had learned in class that halflings preferred to eat human food, although they could stomach their animal counterpart’s diet. Halflings, no doubt, preferred these still-warm cooked steaks over raw meat.
You picked up the bucket of steaks and began your journey across the faux savannah. It really was hot in the exhibit and the heavy bucket seemed to weigh you down considerably. Sweat beaded on your forehead and you found it even harder to push yourself across the distance to the lions.
When you finally arrived in front of them, you could feel yourself trembling in fear. In a shaky voice, you called out, “Who wants steaks?”
All of the lions’ eyes turned immediately to the lion halfling lounging across the rock above them. Ah, I get it. They won’t eat until he eats.
Slowly you approached him. You weren’t sure if he was awake until one green eye cracked open and lazily regarded you. You gulped and reached into the bucket, closing your hands around a steak and holding it out to him. He remained lying there, but his eye closed once more.
You began to set the steak next to him when blinding pain shot up your arm, causing you to promptly drop it on the rock. You looked down and saw that the back of your hand was bleeding from four long streaks. The king of the lions was now sitting up, glaring at you, blood dripping from the claws of his right hand.
“How dare you approach me so casually?” he snarled.
You weren’t sure what to do, so you sank into a bow, and murmured, “I’m so sorry.”
The lion gazed down at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement in his eyes. He laid back down, closing his eyes, “Whatever. The rest of you can eat.”
Lions rushed forward, clamoring around the bucket to get the best steaks. The lion on the rock did not reach for his own steak, choosing instead to go back to sleep. You were sorry you disturbed him, and not only because you were now nursing a heavily bleeding hand. The wound was surprisingly deep and you hoped that they had a first aid kit in the office.
A very small lion cub halfling with red hair bounced up to you. Your heart instantly melted at the sight of such an adorable little thing grabbing a steak and smiling up at you. So cute!
“Uncle Leona! Uncle Leona! Are you going to eat your steak or can I have it?” the little halfling asked the lion on the rock.
The lion- Leona, you guessed- glared down at the cub and snatched the steak out of the his reach with a warning growl. While the guttural sound was enough to make you shake in your boots, the cub merely giggled and took a bite of his own steak.
The bucket was empty by the time every lion had taken one. They were big steaks, but you weren’t sure it would be enough to keep them full. You headed back to the keeper’s door with sweat rolling down your cheeks. The heat and dryness may be perfect for the lions and hyenas, but you could barely stand it.
As soon as you were back in the keeper area, you made a beeline for the water cooler. You poured yourself a cup and downed it in a couple seconds. Panting, you filled your cup a second time. You sipped the water a little slower this time, feeling its cooling effects soothe you.
You headed for the nearest first aid kit, conveniently hanging on the wall near the exhibit’s exit. You had a feeling you weren’t the first to need it. You took some bandages from the case and wrapped them around your hand, hissing a little at the pain the pressure caused.
You were ready to face the wolves now. And, as you made your way into their enclosure, you noted with relief that the warm was crisp and cool- the exact opposite of the previous enclosure.
Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you knew that, by the time you had made the trip with the heavy steaks, you’d probably be sweating again. Sure enough, the labor took its toll on your body, your arm aching as you switched the bucket to your other hand.
Deep in the forest now, you could sense eyes on you. Relieved that you had finally found the wolves, you collapsed to the ground. Unprofessional, maybe, but greatly needed. You sat on the soft grass as the wolf halflings began to approach you.
A few had their lips drawn up in a snarl, and one of them called out, “Who are you? You’re not our regular keeper.”
Another wolf was quick to say, “But she’s brought food. Isn’t that all that matters?”
You raised your hands in a peaceful gesture, “I’m a researcher and I’m the one dropping off your food for this morning.”
That seemed to satisfy the wolves. Some of them still glared at you, but they all took their steaks. You looked around at the pack and was surprised to see, among all the gray hair, a head of pure white.
The wolf wasn’t glaring at you, but his expression didn’t give away how he felt at all. He seemed to be eyeing you warily, much like the hyenas. You fished out a steak and held it out to him. His eyes widened a little and he approached you.
“Thank you,” he said in a gruff voice, taking the steak from you. Before you could ask him his name, he disappeared into the crowd of wolves. You weren’t sure why your mind had picked him out from the others, except that his hair was a different color. A little embarrassed by your reaction to him, you held out a steak to another passing wolf, who growled at you in response.
As soon as the enclosure door shut behind you, you sank to the ground, exhausted. That was only the morning feeding- you had a full day (and part of the night) of studying and documenting behavior ahead of you.
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tenswrld · 5 months
Text
true romance
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popstar!haechan x upcomingartist!reader, angst, fluff
summary: haechan's the world's boyfriend — and yours too, i guess.
word count: 4.1k
listen to: true romance - pinkpantheress
a/n: first, sorry that its been so long...im trying to be better about writing but inspiration comes and goes,,i hope you will indulge in whatever this is!!! everytime i hear this song my mind goes to haechan for some reason sooo yeah >_< i have lots of drafts its just a matter of when or if i finish them LOL love yall tho & enjoy
•°. *࿐
tell me, do you view me the same or do you call me a stranger?
"leave a bit after me so no one sees."
haechan is popular — without a doubt one of the most popular artists of your time. everyone either wants to be him or be with him, to which you completely understand. everything about him screams someone who was born to be on a stage, stealing hearts and whatnot. with such a bright personality, it was almost impossible to not like him.
you've had the privilege of getting to watch haechan grow from singing songs he wrote in his bedroom on youtube to him performing them in sold out shows. you're a fan, of course, but somewhere along the way — with crazy luck — you've wiggled your way into his life and into his heart. the two of you were music artists wishing on every star for some kind of breakthrough to the industry (take a guess on who got it). naturally, it brought you together. you were there when haechan reached 5,000 subscribers, and you were still there when he was selling out shows to 50,000 people. you've stuck by his side for so long that you're sure that its where you fit best.
in the moment, however, you're not so sure anymore.
"leave a bit after me so no one sees."
the small smile on your face slowly disappears at haechan's words and hurt quickly settles into your chest. "...why? what would be so bad about that?"
haechan seems unable to grasp how upset you are at his words. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "it's not like that, y/n. but a scandal at this time wouldn't be good."
"a scandal?" you scoff slightly. "since when have you ever cared about that?"
he sighs and runs a hand through his hair that's still slightly wet from his post-performance sweat. "i just don't want to take any risks right now. especially since my album is coming out soon. you understand, right?"
"i fly all the way out here to see you, and you don't want to be seen with me?" you say with a trembling lip and a weak voice. you're hurt and you're angry, but can't seem to keep your tears at bay.
"i didn't say that."
"you might as well have," you spit back at him.
"let's talk about this later, okay? trust me, it would be a lot worse for you than it would for me." haechan picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, making his way towards the backstage exit door.
frozen in place overwhelmed with emotion, you watch your boyfriend open the door. you think he's had a change of heart when he pauses at the door and turns back to you, but somehow he's managed to hurt you even more.
"maybe you should take these too," he says, placing the bouquet you made him back into your hold. the smell of roses and sunflowers taking over your senses as more tears well up in your eyes. you hope the flowers hide them from haechan's gaze. though, you're not so sure he'd notice anyway, as he'd already let the door close and left you behind.
•°. *࿐
'cause, baby, i don't care about the fame
people talk. as an upcoming music artist, you're aware that people talk. as the (hidden) girlfriend of a global superstar, you're more than aware that people love to talk about anything and everything that doesn't concern them.
you and haechan aren't on the same level of fame — not that it matters to you. it never mattered to you, really. even as haechan grew and grew and you remained with your significantly smaller (but still decent) following, fame was never your strongest desire.
yet, now, you're wondering that maybe if you were just a bit more famous, more popular, more well known, then you wouldn't feel as far away from haechan as you do right now. even as he sits beside you on the king bed of the luxury suite he booked for this stop of his tour, you feel further away from him then ever.
"i mean, what would people say about us, y/n? about you?"
"you keep saying that, hyuck, but you're not explaining it to me," you say, growing frustrated with him. "why is it just about me?"
he purses his lips before averting his gaze to the floor. "they'll say nasty stuff about you — that you're using me for fame, or money, or something like that."
you shake your head. "but you and i both know that's not true. we've been together for how many years now? their words shouldn't matter." you take hold of his hand and rub your thumb against his knuckles. "you could have nothing and i'd still be here."
"people don't know that," he scoffs. "they'll assume the worst about you."
maybe he's right — you're sure they will assume the worst about you regardless of your long, deep history with haechan. would he start to believe them? you think it, but you don’t ask — too afraid of the answer you might receive.
"what are you so afraid of?" you ask him softly, begging him with your mind for him to look at you.
but he doesn't, his eyes stayed trained on the ground and he can only weakly squeeze your hand that holds onto his own.
"i don't know."
•°. *࿐
tell me, why i don't play about you
every song is about you
haechan finally has a short break in between the legs of his tour and he chooses to spend every waking moment of it with you.
things between the two of you have felt rocky for a while. it makes haechan ashamed to say it, but he's been so focused on tour and his new album that he's pushed everything else to the side. he's a perfectionist and he feels like he's barely made it — he wants everything to work out perfectly and is committed to making sure that happens. he's not sure how long he's been brushing off anything non-career related, but he misses you — even if you're with him.
he flys the two of you out to a small, quaint place in kyoto where he finally gets to enjoy some peace and quiet in his life. he chooses to turn off his phone, not too keen with the idea of his manager berating him about all his responsibilities he'll have to tend to when he gets back. he's on vacation and he's here with you: the one person who's been with him through every up and down.
you're laying in his arms and haechan misses you to the point where it hurts — when was the last time he laid with you like this? the revelation urges him to pull you closer, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lay on his chest. he sighs into your hair, breathing all of you in. it's silent, for the most part, until you ask a question that rattles haechan's being.
"why do you not sing about me?" you ask it so softly that haechan almost misses it.
"what? what are you talking about?" he's genuinely confused as to what you mean. who do you think he sings about?
"i know a handful of your old old songs are about me, but you don't perform those anymore," you murmur into his chest. "ah, don't mind me, i'm just talking."
you sound embarrassed and defeated and haechan wants to cry. did you really not know? how long has he been pushing you away?
"y/n, every single song i write is about you," haechan professes. "i couldn't write about anyone else if i tried."
his words shock you, even if they shouldn't. you tilt your head up to look up at him and he looks down at you with the softest gaze.
"not that i ever would, anyway," he continues, a sad smile painting his face.
"you mean it?" you whisper to him, wanting so badly to believe him.
when haechan's resolve breaks and his eyes glaze over, you know he means it. his hold on you tightens with one hand and the other comes up to caress your cheek, swiping a tear you didn't even know had fallen.
"of course," he croaks. "you're my muse, y/n. you."
this time, you're wiping his tears away as he cries and cries into your palms. you shift the two of you so that he lies in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into your torso, your hands running through his hair. he's apologizing over and over and doesn't say why, but you know why. you regret ever doubting haechan's love for you — even if he was to blame.
but, just as you're certain you love him more than anything, you know that haechan loves you back all the same.
"it's always been you, y/n."
•°. *࿐
and everybody’s shouting out your name
“you look too handsome to be pouting like that, you know,” you tease lightly, approaching haechan to adjust his tie fondly.
he can’t help but smile at you as you do so, his hands easily finding their place around your waist, tugging you close. “if you tell me to stay, i will.”
you sigh and place your hands upon his chest, allowing you to push yourself up to place a soft kiss on his lips. his lips trail after yours once you pull away and he pouts at you again, eyes begging for another kiss but you push him back ever so slightly.
“you can’t miss this, hyuck, you know that. this could be really big for you!” you beam, swiping a bit of your lip gloss off of his lips. “some important people might be there.”
“but you won’t be there,” he whines. “what’s the point?”
you roll your eyes playfully. “you’ll be fine. now go, your manager has been waiting.” haechan sighs and leans down to place one more kiss on your lips.
you pull away before he can get carried away. “go! and put a good word in for me with taeyong, yeah?”
haechan rolls his eyes but smiles at you, pecking you on the cheek as he bids you farewell. “no promises.”
ੈ♡˳
it’s barely been over an hour and haechan wants to leave.
normally he’s able to tolerate these sorts of things — the bright lights, loud music, snobby people all trying to one up each other. he can get by and chat with anyone as if he’s known them for years. typically, events like these breeze by for haechan. why was he hating every second of it?
it’s lee taeyong’s end of year celebration party. of course, as his junior, haechan was invited. he’s grateful that he’s made friends with lots of other artists under his company, otherwise haechan would have been long gone within the first 45 minutes of arriving. but, haechan stays, mostly because he admires taeyong and does, in fact, bring up you and your songs — which, to his surprise, taeyong says he knows you and enjoys your music.
haechan isn’t given the chance to talk more, unfortunately, due to an excited kim jungwoo who locks an arm around haechan’s shoulder and drags him away.
“ow — hyung! i was in the middle of a conversation!” haechan grits to jungwoo, lightly shoving his arm off of him.
“my bad, it looked like you needed saving,” jungwoo chuckles. “come on, everyone’s been looking for you.”
jungwoo leads haechan to a small circle of people to which haechan knows as his small circle of friends: mark, his company's beloved canadian rapper; johnny suh, one of seoul's most popular djs; and of course there's kim jungwoo, kim doyoung, and jeong jaehyun who make up dojaejung, korea's heartthrob boy group.
"yo, where have you been?" mark greets him excitedly, lightly slapping him on the shoulder playfully.
"what do you mean 'where have i been', i saw you yesterday, mark," haechan grumbles.
"woah, someone needs a drink," johnny chuckles. doyoung is quick to hand haechan a glass of champagne.
haechan takes a large gulp, hopefully to ease whatever tension he feels in his shoulders. he's trying to enjoy the party, he really is, but all he wants to do is come home to you.
"everything okay?" doyoung asks him, concerned with the way haechan seems to be downing his drink.
the younger boy sighs. "yeah, i'm fine, sorry. just stressed out."
"oh, your album is coming out soon, right?" jungwoo remembers, nudging haechan with his elbow. "congratulations!"
the rest of the boys congratulate him and haechan can only half-heartedly reply despite being very grateful.
"i'm sure it'll be great," johnny reassures him.
"saw a lot of love songs on that track list," jungwoo teases. "got a special someone?"
haechan stills at his words and he's caught in an argument with himself. does he mention you? does he say no? is this how he wants people to find out you’re together? before he can even reply, though, jaehyun cuts in.
"speaking of, i heard that kim minjeong has had her eye on you for a while, haechan," jaehyun says. he raises his eyebrows at the younger boy and haechan gulps, the rest of his friends nudging him playfully as they coo at him.
"that's the model, right? and singer?" doyoung asks. "you should talk to her!"
haechan feels like he's going to be sick. maybe he's being dramatic — its not like they're shoving him into minjeong's face and asking him to profess his love. still, he feels like he's betraying you in some way and he realizes he has to go home.
"i can talk you up, probably," mark says. "we're normally at the studio at the same time."
“i heard that shin ryujin has been talking about you, too,” johnny pipes in. “honestly, who hasn’t been talking about you? i’m surprised you’ve done nothing about it.”
doyoung hums. “she seems like your type, donghyuck! i know some people over at —“
"no! no, don't — " haechan places his champagne glass onto a nearby table abruptly and sighs shakily. "just...don't. sorry, i-i don't feel well. i should go."
confused and concerned eyes watch haechan as he rushes towards the nearest exit. he doesn't bother saying goodbye to taeyong, but makes a mental note to send him an apologetic note tomorrow. haechan sees kim minjeong catch sight of him, and he's sure she's about to make an attempt to stop him to chat with the way she looks at him with a flirty gaze. haechan is quick to turn in the opposite direction and flees out of the nearest door.
haechan's manager comes out soon behind him, frenzied after trying to catch up to a frantic haechan. he doesn't get the chance to ask the latter if he's okay, too occupied with calling their driver upon haechan's request.
"home," he chokes out. he's out of breath and he feels dizzy — whether its from the champagne or from guilt, he's unsure.
"i want to go home."
•°. *࿐
i'm in the crowd, can you see my hand?
haechan has reached the encore of his final show of his tour, yet he still feels a pressure that he cannot explain.
its not from all of his seniors and friends that attended in support of him, he knows that. it's not from the different producers and music artists that flew to seoul for him, either. its a pressure that weighs on his chest that has made him feel unsatisfied with each stage, despite putting 150% effort in everything.
the crowd is going crazy for him after he delivers his final ment, and he takes a moment to soak in it all, in hopes it would give him some peace of mind.
then, his eyes finally spot you.
you, in the back row of some random section, sitting with your manager, with a banner with his name on it and a headband with bear ears perched on top of your head. he doesn't know if you can tell that he's staring right at you, but you start waving around the banner with excitement. haechan can't help but adore you even more than he already does.
time stops for him as he realizes that you're here. through thick and thin you've always been there — what has haechan ever done for you? he hasn't given you even a sliver of what you deserve, yet you've never left him. you stayed when he was a nobody, and even now when he's been terribly selfish, you let him be.
there are thousands of other hands waving at him, but haechan can only see yours.
"actually," haechan starts, quickly silencing the crowd. "there's one more thing i wanted to say."
from your seat, you feel your heartbeat quicken. haechan is still standing and looking into your direction and you know he sees you.
"there's someone very special to me that's here tonight."
your heart stops as you realize what he's doing and you can't help but glance at your manager in a panic. fans around you are murmuring in confusion since haechan had already given a shoutout to his guests.
"they've been by my side since i was writing silly love songs in my childhood bedroom," haechan says, a fond smile taking over his features. "i wrote those love songs about them then, and i still write every love song about them now."
the gasps and shocked noises at his confession fall upon deaf ears — to you, you and haechan are the only two people in the world.
"some of you may know her — she's an amazing music artist as well. far better than me, in my opinion, but maybe i'm a bit biased." haechan sees you laugh and can't help but chuckle too.
"my girlfriend, y/n, is here tonight, and i couldn't be more grateful. wave, y/n!" haechan calls out to you. surprisingly, the camera cuts to you as you wave shyly, hiding behind your haechan banner. even more surprising, the crowd cheers loudly for you.
"isn't she cute?" haechan asks. he's delighted when he sees and hears the rest of the stadium agree.
haechan finally feels that weight lift from off of his chest and he feels like he can breathe. he's happy — ecstatic, even — now that the world finally knows he's yours.
"y/n, you once asked me what i was afraid of, and i said i didn't know," haechan recalls gently. "but i know now." he purses his lips to prevent himself from choking up.
"you've always been so supportive of everything i've done. you've done so much for me and i'm not sure how i could ever repay you." haechan sucks in a sharp breath. "i'm afraid that i'll never truly deserve you."
the crowd coos and some fans in front of you turn around to look at you. you're a mess: tears are streaming down your face, and your hands are shaking. you hide pathetically behind your banner again as your manager wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.
"i'm sorry for making you wait." haechan puts a hand over his heart, and you do the same. "i love you."
the camera cuts to you again and haechan glances at the monitor to get a better look at you as you mouth something back. haechan doesn't even attempt to conceal his smile or to hold back his tears. there's no use.
"i love you, too."
•°. *࿐
say what you want, this is true romance
“did you really have to mention that, hyuck?”
your boyfriend settles next to you on the couch, arm draping over your shoulder, as you scroll through his recent interview with vogue korea.
you pout at him and he's unable to stop the smile that takes over his face. he pinches your cheek and you quickly swat his hand away.
"what? what did i say?" he rests his chin on your shoulder to read the article for himself.
"i mean, does the public really have to know about me crying on our first date?" you complained. you continued scrolling and laughed as you read. "in what context would you ever have to tell vogue about our matching crayon shin-chan pajama pants?"
haechan laughs and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "honestly, i don't remember half of what i said during this interview. or any of what they asked me." he tugs you a little closer to him so that you're leaning against him, laying the two of you down. "all i know is that i'm pretty sure i started talking about you so much that they just called it a day."
"you're that obsessed with me, huh?" you teased.
haechan scoffs, wrapping both of his arms around you tightly. "obviously."
he watches you open instagram and sees you check the likes on your new post. he gasps dramatically, loosening one arm around you to snatch his phone from his pocket. "you posted?! where was my post notification?" he whines cutely.
he's a little too quick to find your account and he then quadruple clicks the picture to give it a like. "babe, why are your comments off? i was about to get really out of pocket," haechan whines again.
"okay, first, don't do that, please. save some of your dignity," you scold him. "but its because people are mean," you admit softly.
haechan's eyebrows furrow together and his tone stiffens. "who? what did they say?"
you sigh. "no one specific, don't worry. some people are just not too keen about us. your predictions were right, i guess," you attempt to joke, but it only makes haechan upset.
"here, come here," haechan beckons you up with him as he sits up. you're still under one of his arms, which he locks around your neck as he tugs you into his side. you're caught off guard, but lean into him anyway, arms wrapped around his torso. haechan lifts his phone up and takes selfies of the two of you, cheeks pressed together as you both smile uncontrollably.
you're both giggling like two high schoolers fresh into a relationship and you've never felt more happy and in love in your life. haechan presses wet kisses against your cheek before you eventually push his face away. still, he steals one more kiss from you — this time on your lips — and you let him.
"okay, i'm posting all of these," haechan declares casually, leaning back against the couch.
your eyes widen and you reach for his phone in an attempt to stop him, but haechan has already dodged you and raised his hand up. "hyuck, don't."
"why not? i'm in love with you, people just have to deal with it," he shrugs. "anyone who has a problem with us can get blocked."
you fall onto haechan's chest and he gladly wraps you up in his arms again. "you're stupid, but i love you."
"good, because i just posted it."
you peer up at haechan's phone and you see that he was true to his word. all of the selfies you just took piled into one singular post to which haechan captioned 'my heart'. you watch as he scrolls through the comments and blocks anyone with anything bad to say.
"wow, you weren't kidding," you say, amused.
"'course not. these people need to learn true romance." he leans down to kiss you one more time, this time letting the kiss linger. he pulls away but rests his forehead against yours, staring at you with eyes full of love. "i love you, too, by the way."
ੈ♡˳
haechan is popular — without a doubt, he's one of the most sought after guys in the industry. he's confident, charismatic, and he's bright. he's everyone's dream guy, it's no secret.
but, above all, he's yours, and you're his as well. he has devoted his heart and life to you and its not a secret to anyone anymore.
this time around, haechan wraps you up in his scarf to protect you from the cold before the two of you leave.
"i already have a scarf on, hyuck, just keep yours," you mumble from underneath the thick fabric.
haechan doesn't hear you (not just because he literally can't) because he's too focused on zipping up your jacket and tugging your beanie over your ears.
"okay," he says as he intertwines a hand in yours. he clutches the bouquet you made for him proudly in his other arm while he carries your bag and his own over his shoulder. "let's go home!"
its bittersweet as you realize how familiar yet different the situation is. you clutch haechan's hand tighter as he tugs you towards the backstage exit door, outside where the press and his fans are waiting.
he doesn't hide you anymore. no, instead haechan shows you off proudly and wholeheartedly as if it was what he was meant to do.
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inkskinned · 2 years
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i. about 2 weeks ago, i was told there's a good chance that in 5 or so years, i'll need a wheelchair.
ii. okay. i loved harry potter as a kid. i have a hypothesis about this to be honest - why people still kind of like it. it's that she got very lucky. she managed to make a cross-generational hit. it was something shared for both parents and kids. it was right at the start of a huge cultural shift from pre to post-internet. i genuinely think many people were just seeking community; not her writing. it was a nice shorthand to create connection. which is a long way of saying - she didn't build this legacy, we built it for her. she got lucky, just once. that's all.
iii. to be real with you, i still struggle with identifying as someone with a disability, which is wild, especially given the ways my life has changed. i always come up against internalized ableism and shame - convinced even right now that i'm faking it for attention. i passed out in a grocery store recently. i hit my head on the shelves while i went down.
iv. he raises his eyebrows while he sends me a look. her most recent new book has POTS featured in it. okay, i say. i already don't like where this is going. we both take another bite of ramen. it is a trait of the villain, he says. we both roll our eyes about it.
v. so one of the things about being nonbinary but previously super into harry potter is that i super hate jk rowling. but it is also not good for my mental health to regret any form of joy i engaged with as a kid. i can't punish my young self for being so into the books - it was a passion, and it was how i made most of my friends. everyone knew about it. i felt like everyone had my same joy, my same fixation. as a "weird kid", this sense of belonging resonated with me so loudly that i would have done anything to protect it.
vi. as a present, my parents once took me out of school to go see the second movie. it is an incredibly precious memory: my mom straight-up lying about a dentist appointment. us snickering and sneaking into the weekday matinee. within seven years of this experience, the internet would be a necessity to get my homework finished. the world had permanently changed. harry potter was a relic, a way any of us could hold onto something of the analog.
vii. by sheer luck, the year that i started figuring out the whole gender fluid thing was also the first year people started to point out that she might have some internalized biases. i remember tumblr before that; how often her name was treated as godhood. how harry potter was kind of a word synonymous for "nerdy but cool." i would walk out of that year tasting he/him and they/them; she would walk out snarling and snapping about it.
viii. when i teach older kids creative writing, i usually tell them - so, she did change the face of young adult fiction, there's no denying that. she had a lot more opportunities than many of us will - there were more publishing houses, less push for "virally" popular content creators. but beyond reading another book, we need to write more books. we need to uplift the voices of those who remain unrepresented. we need to push for an exposure to the bigotry baked into the publishing system. and i promise you: you can write better than she ever did. nothing she did was what was magical - it was the way that the community responded to it.
ix. i get home from ramen. three other people have screenshotted the POTS thing and sent it to me. can you fucking believe we're still hearing this shit from her when it's almost twenty-fucking-twenty-three. the villain is notably also popular on tumblr. i just think that's funny. this woman is a billionaire and she's mad that she can't control the opinions of some people on a dying blue site that makes no money. lady, and i mean this - get a fucking life.
x. i am sorry to the kid i was. maybe the kid you were too. none of us deserved to see something like this ruined. that thing used to be precious to me. and now - all those good times; measured into dust.
/// 9.6.2022 // FUCKING AGAIN, JK? Are you fucking kidding me?
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aurae-rori · 13 days
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DR RATIO ANALYSIS: PART 2, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO
SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT.
Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you already did one, why do you need a second?" And my answer is, "LORD, I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT HOW HIS DEFINITION OF 'IDIOT' IS DIFFERENT. AND ALSO HE DOES NOT HATE AVENTURINE NOR DOES HE THINK AVENTURINE IS STUPID." Once again, here is my disclaimer - although I have been researching psychology for a solid six years, I am NOT a professional. (I will be, one day. Just you wait, just youuuu wait-) So understand that everything I say has been analyzed with personal judgement, with my own conclusions, come to with logic and my personal interpretation. This is just what I have concluded, and you are always free to disagree.
This is my legacy. To be an analyzer. So let's go.
Okay, now that my disclaimer is over, let's take off Ratio's plaster head and chuck it into the sea, and see - what does he mean by 'idiot'?
This will be much shorter than my last, so don't worry - I will not be flashbanging you with another 4k words. This is more like a follow up, than anything else, because there's a few things I wish to touch on.
Dr. Ratio doesn't hate idiots in the sense that he hates people that have 'low IQ' or are 'stupid' in terms of being 'slow to understand'. I definitely touched on this in my last analysis, but he hates people who take their education for granted and don't go places with the gifts that they've been given. He hates "idiots" - "narrow minded" people who have the capabilities to do more and perceive more than they choose to do. People who deliberately look away or take what they know and what they could do for granted. He wants to open people's eyes and allow them to see life from multiple different angles and he believes that everyone should have a chance to learn - with the whole "knowledge for everyone" thing he's got rolling.
He wears a plaster head around people he doesn't seem to know too well in order to think more, or so that he doesn't have to see the faces of the people he dislikes. Pretty good roast. However, he does NOT wear that plaster head around Aventurine. Let's listen to the doctor's judgement - Aventurine is far from stupid. Although he likes to chalk up a lot of the things he does to his own luck, he is an INCREDIBLY capable individual who's managed to get this far because of his own form of genius. He's a man who relies on chance and good fortune, yes, but his charm, his way of scheming, and the way that he's good with people? That's skill. A talent he doesn't take for granted. Dr. Ratio respects him for this - because despite the fact that he has no proper education, he has his eyes wide open to the world and doesn't take shit for granted. He learns what he can in order to survive and he does it fucking well - Aventurine is a very smart man. He's observant, quick on his feet, and great at going with the flow and thinking in the moment.
Aventio aside, I actually believe that Dr. Ratio would be a really good teacher to those who struggle. He's patient where it's needed to be, even if he's got a quick temper, and I believe in his pursuit for knowledge he would do his best to go out of his way to find strategies that would work for their individuals. We're all unique, and he's aware of this - and because he wants to allow people to think for themselves, whatever helps the individual works. Depression? He's got a psych degree, I'm sure bro could give you some strategies. Autism? He has a touch of the 'tism himself. ADHD, and not feeling organized? Bro will help you. It's canon that he's a great fucking teacher - those who finish his classes go on to become successful people who are intelligent and critical thinkers. Round of applause for Ratio, the man that kins my father. He's shit at emotions, but great at knowledge.
Also, on that note, I believe that he would most likely hate parents that push thier "gifted" students to the limit without any compassion for the person that they really are. He's most definitely got some of that academic trauma so I believe that bro holds a secret disdain for parents who just use their children to gain more recgonition. Well, not so secret. He'd cuss them out. (Ratio please cuss out the horrible parents.)
Dr. Ratio, the Teacher ever. (Hey, maybe he'd get along with Kunikida...)
Also, I am definitely planning on making a fic where he teaches Aventurine Latin. As long as you're eager to learn and willing to look past the chalk being thrown, he's got a place for you.
Thanks for coming to my tedtalk. I did not read this through, so this is not edited. Take my unedited rambles.
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fanta2y · 3 months
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Puppy Love
ahh sorry ive been meaning to post this fic for a couple days now but ive been swamped with school, but its here now !! yahoo!
i hope you guys like ittt <3
cw: slightly suggestive? and i mean SLIGHTLY
word count: 2k
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Yuuji was never scared to show his affections. Whether that be with his encouraging words, or his physical touches. He knew that his time was limited, especially with his unorthodox life choices, so showing his love to the people he loved was something that had always came easy to him. 
Until you came along. 
Everytime you entered a room his eyes immediately found yours, and just as they met he would rip them away from you. A blush almost instantly appearing on his cheeks as he stood, quickly and quietly excusing himself. 
For Kugisaki and Fushiguro, it was easy to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Having known Yuuji for quite some time now, they knew what his normal behavior was. And this? This was far from it.
But for you, you were new. Having just met these people days before, so you were convinced that you had done something to offend him, or he just simply didn’t like you. Maybe you stunk? 
Little did you know, his thoughts were the exact opposite. He thought you were gorgeous, your laugh was like music to his ears. Your voice was soothing and beautiful, he could listen to you talk for hours. But this sickly sweet feeling that raised his heartbeat and brought heat to his face was something very new to him. Something he hadn’t really experienced before. 
Sure, he had found girls attractive before, even asked a girl out to their middle school dance. But this was different, this was deeper. It coiled around his bones, squeezing his throat. Made him do things and say things he didn’t want. It was infuriating. 
He groaned into his pillow, his mind tormenting him with a replay of his embarrassing moments in front of you today. He wanted the earth to swallow him whole, or better yet just let Sukuna take over and have him kill him instead. Anything would be better than him continuing to fumble about like this any longer. 
Knowing he wasn’t going to get any sleep anytime soon, he figured he might be able to tire himself out enough to simply pass out due to exhaustion. Hoping it would shut his mind up. Yuuji stood from his bed, putting on some old tennis shoes and throwing a hoodie on. He went out of his dorm and headed for the training rooms. 
He clenched and unclenched his fists all the way there, his mind plagued with you. 
You. You. You.
You were all he ever seemed to think about these days. 
He did some quick stretching, wanting nothing more than to just start the mind-numding activity of punching something over and over and over again. Until his brain was too tired to come up with any new scenarios to torture him with. 
But of course, just as he goes to throw his first punch. He hears an all too familiar voice. 
“Itadori? What are you doing awake?” Your voice echoed off the empty gym walls. He froze, his heartbeat immediately picking up. The blush full force on his cheeks. He couldn’t get his brain and his mouth to cooperate so he just stood there, back facing you. His mouth wide open in shock, he almost wanted to laugh at his sheer luck. 
“Is everything okay?” You asked, after the silence pushed on too long. You words were coated in a thick layer of worry. While you were still sure the boy hated you, and you knew you might be pushing your luck. You didn’t just want to stand there and pretend like nothing was wrong. It was nearly 2 in the morning and here he is, training. Any one in their right mind would be a bit worried. 
“I’m fine…” He managed to choke out, He's such an idiot. What is wrong with him. Why can’t he just speak!
“If you need the training room I can go.” He muttered quickly, turning quick on his feet to walk past you. His eyes glued to the floor, walking with a newfound purpose back to his dorms. 
“No wa-..” But before you could even finish your sentence he was already gone, without even a second glance your way. The doors to the gym slammed shut. And all of a sudden it was just you alone.
You sighed, your head falling forward into your hands as you stood there. You felt embarrassed and a bit ticked. You had tried and tried to rack your brain to figure out if you had done something, anything, to make him this upset. But you realized that you hadn’t had the chance to make him upset because after you had introduced yourself to him, he had been avoiding you like the plague. 
You groaned, stretching your hands over your head. Turning on your heels to head back to your room, a new feeling of determination settling in you. You were going to get to the bottom of this even if its the last thing you do. 
The next morning you rolled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The interrupted sleep definitely did you no favors, but upon remembering last night's incident you remembered your goal.
To figure Itadori out. 
You both saw each other in class, usually sitting on opposite ends. But today, you were going to be bold. And after whispering about it to Kugisaki, who nodded fervently at your efforts. A glint in her eyes you couldn’t quite name. She sent you off to the empty desk next to his with a whisper, “Gooo…this class is boring anyways!” 
You heard her giggling behind you as you willed away the nerves. He hadn’t come in yet, he had a notorious habit for sleeping in just a little. Not enough for him to be late, but enough for him to be right on time.
He walked in, panting slightly. His hair was a bit all over the place and he was definitely wearing the hoodie he had on last night. When both of your eyes met, he quickly tore them away. Not even giving himself a chance to realize where you were in the room. The realization didn’t strick him until he had sat down and saw you were much closer than you usually were. 
But before he could move, Gojo had walked in. Declaring the start of the lecture, and the start of Yuujis slow and tortuous day. 
To say you were frustrated was an understatement. At every opportunity you had tried to get him alone to talk to him, even flat out asking him “Can I speak to you?” to which he had the audacity to respond with, “I’m actually a bit busy, maybe later?” Even though he very clearly wasn’t doing anything. 
You had sat next to him for each and every class, you even passed him a note! You had gotten yourself as his sparring partner for training, even finding yourself sitting at his, Fushiguro and Kugisaki’s table for lunch. 
Even though all the time you guys had spent together today, he had barely uttered a word to you. And didn’t even think about letting you talk to him.
You wanted to pull your hair out.
Sitting in your last class, next to him of course. You were staring him down, and he seemed the more interested in the lecture than he had ever been before. You knew he was just trying to avoid accidentally making eye contact with you. And it only boiled your blood more. 
What was this guy's issue?!
As Gojo wrapped up the last lecture of the day, an idea popped into your head. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you were reaching for Itadori's hand. Entangling it tightly within your own and leading him very quickly out of the room. You heard Kugisaki yelling some type of encouragement after you, but you didn’t pay it much mind. 
“I- what are you doing?!” Itadori asked behind you, bewildered by your sudden boldness. You didn’t give him the luxury of a response, especially since you didn’t quite know yourself. All you knew was that if he wasn’t going to talk to you of his own accord, you were going to force it out of him. 
You spotted an empty classroom, and before you could think much about it you shoved him inside. Shutting the door behind you and standing infront of it. 
He stood, shocked. His mind blank as he desperately tried to process the events of what just happened. But the warmth of your hand still on his wrist short-circuited his brain to a point where it was beyond function. On instinct, he ripped his wrist from yours as if the touch had burned him. 
“What is your problem with me?” You wanted to sound angry, you wanted to be angry. You were angry a second ago. But now, standing in front of him. You found yourself to be anything but. Your voice sounded weak, soft, sad. It made you cringe. 
This stopped him, pulled him far enough out of his own head to clear the fog of whatever he felt for you to see the situation for what it was. 
He was such an asshole.
“What do you mean? I dont-” You interrupted him with a scoff. “Oh please, you avoid me like I have some disease, you don’t look at me. You went this entire day without saying more than 2 words to me…I just, I don’t understand and look I’m sorry if I offenunmph.” 
Before you could even finish your sentence, you felt warm lips on yours. Slightly chapped, but nice. It felt nice. You reacted almost instantaneously, melting into the kiss. It was sweet, just your lips moving against eachother. 
He pulled away, panting slightly. Out of instinct you leaned forward to follow his lips, he chuckled at you. Resting his head on your forehead instead. “I’m sorry.” He whispered between the shared breaths. His eyes now seemingly to be unable to leave yours. His gaze was overwhelming, for a split second you almost wished he would go back to avoiding you. You didn’t know how much of this you could take. 
Now it was your turn to avoid his gaze, turning your head to the side. You put your hands on his chest, going to push him away from you. Your cheeks turning bright pink as the realization of what just happened settled into the air. 
You laughed forcefully, “All is forgiven! You can go now.” Speaking all too quickly, your tried again to put some distance between you and him. Cursing past you for standing against the door as you now have no place to back up from. He was so close, his hot breath fanning over your already too warm cheeks. 
Silently, he reached his hand to your chin. It felt like a spell had be broken, the shyness and avoidance you had gotten use to these past weeks disappeared as if it had never existed in the first place. 
He turned your head to face his again, “No really, I’m sorry. I’ve been an asshole.” He sounded so sincere it made you sick, his eyes finding yours again. Holding you hostage under the intense gaze. Without thinking, your eyes flicked down to his lips again, quickly looking back up to his eyes. But not quick enough for it to go unnoticed. The small smile that tugged on his lips was all the warning you got before his lips were on yours again. 
This sudden boldness had taken you by surprised, as you were pressed even further against the door. He crowded around you, hand moving from your chin to cup the back of your neck. Keeping your lips pressed against his as they melded together, lips and tongues intertwining. The kiss quickly turned heated as you forced your head back to rest against the door behind you. 
“Let me make it up to you.” 
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
authors note: IDK GUYS I KINDA ATE WITH THIS :))))) i really do like the way it turned out and i hope you guys do too!!! make sure your taking care of yourselves, much love <3
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seungmoonandstars · 3 months
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©¹¹ᵒⁿˡʸ
Kim Seungmin/female reader
wc: ~7.2k
rating: fluff (kinda?) to smut to fluff ಇ (sub/switch!seungmin/softdom!reader)
comments: this is my first time trying out non idol Seungmin. @xirxe requested au fluff! I started a coworker au, and then got more info from them after I started writing furiously. I'm still working on another one more specific to their request, but I decided to finish this one as well. "Finish" …because I don't know when to stop ever. It got very long and turned much more sex-heavy than originally intended. Anyway, I miss writing long pieces and now I might write a part 5 for Blind Date (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)
⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄
The first time you see him, he’s in one of the appliance aisles. Actually, it’s the first time you hear him, because what gets your attention is him laughing hysterically with another coworker, goofing off, sitting in one of the display office chairs. And he’s just about to be launched down the aisle when you turn the corner.
“Oh shit…caught,” you hear one of them say, and you’re pretty sure it was Changbin. But they both stop dead and look at you like you already handed out their punishments.
The reality is, you don’t care what they’re doing, because the store is nearly empty of customers. The snowstorm outside is making sure of that. But you’re new, and you’re above them—that’s all it takes to make things awkward. They’re probably expecting you to start bossing them around immediately.
Nope. You walk by them and smirk, “don’t break anything please…”
They giggle and pick up where they left off as soon as you turn the corner and disappear. You remember who the dark haired one is, but for some reason, the name of the blond in the chair is escaping you.
The second time you see him, he’s fighting with the coffee machine in the breakroom.
As soon as he hears you walk in, he stops beating his open palm against the side, looks back, smiles, then tries the button again. “Do you want a cup?” He asks.
“Doesn’t seem like it wants to give us any.”
“Surrounded by brand new Nespresso machines…stuck with this.” He opens the top, closes it, then pushes the button again. This time it works, and a moment later, his coffee is pouring into his cup.
“Maybe I can ask about getting a new one for us.” You watch him watching his coffee.
He swirls it and brings it to his nose before taking a sip. “I’ve tried. Hopefully you have better luck.”
To your surprise, he sits directly across from you at the table. You look at him, try desperately to remember his name. You forgot to check the schedule when you saw him earlier in the day, but you don’t want to ask. And of course he isn’t wearing his name tag.
“Where’s your name tag?” You ask, trying not to sound too much like a manager.
“Uh…” he slaps his chest where it should be, looks down at it, thinks. “I must’ve lost it.” The smirk on his face is…cute.
“I’ll get you a new one.”
“You’re very helpful.” He shakes his bangs away from his eyes—blond, a little too long. You can see his big dark eyes a little better, just for a second until his gaze drops back down to his coffee.
“I try.”
He’s quiet for the remainder of your break, but when you rise to leave, he does as well. You head toward the office, and he follows. Just before you get there, he makes a left turn.
Now you can finally look at the schedule and figure out his name.
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
The very next day, you still have no idea who he is. The copy of the schedule was nowhere to be found, and your computer access is still limited. Try as you might, your login just won’t work. All you have to do is ask him, though. It’s not that big of a deal. And honestly, if you weren’t wearing your name tag, he probably wouldn’t know yours either.
A soft knock on the office door makes you jump. You check the time—8am. If only you could find a schedule, you’d know who was supposed to be here right now.
“Good morning!” You’re greeted with a familiar face when you open the door. He steps inside, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Do you have a job for me?”
“Do I…I’m not sure. Is anyone else here?”
“Uhm, well you opened the doors,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “and I just came in because the door wasn’t locked, which was lucky, because it’s cold out and I did not want to stand out there and wait.”
“Okay, so we’re here.”
“Just us, yes.”
“Do you have a login for the computer?”
He nods and smiles, takes a seat, and starts typing. “You don’t?”
“It doesn’t work yet.”
“Oh okay, that sounds about right for this place.” He gets up and turns the seat for you. “I don’t have as much access as your login would, but it’s better than nothing.”
You sit down and spin back to the computer, look around, click a few things. His profile photo stares at you from the corner, and you have to force yourself not to accidentally click on it. He’s watching over your shoulder, leaning in a little, trying to be helpful. You catch the faintest scent of whatever he's wearing. It's not cologne, though. He just smells clean and nice, probably how his bedroom smells.
You find a page of contacts, phone numbers. Good enough for now. “Thanks,” you turn to him and he’s staring down at you with a goofy smile.
“No problem. I’m going to go make some coffee.”
As soon as he leaves, you don’t grab your phone and call another manager, and you don’t even keep the contact page up. You go back and click on his profile.
“Oh! Kim Seung Min, that’s your name.” You stare at his profile photo. His hair is darker in this, and the contrast makes his skin look pale and his eyes look even bigger. His smile is so wide, like he's actually happy to be there. He’s very photogenic; it’s a good photo. A work ID photo really has no business looking this nice.
A few minutes later, he knocks again, and you quickly exit out of the screen as if he can see you through the door.
“Sorry, I just…I saw the new machine," his little nod and blink makes your breath catch in your throat. "I made you some.”
Seungmin hands you a mug of coffee, a little darker than you’re used to, but he obviously watched you put milk in yours yesterday, and tried his best to copy it.
“Thank you, Seungmin.”
“I can remake it, if it’s not good.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
You look at the screen, heart starting to race. Did you only think you exited out of his profile? No, it’s not there. What is he talking about?
“Oh…oh, no not yet. No answer. I’ll call again in a few minutes.”
“I can help you with the opening stuff, if you’d like. I’ve done it a few times with the other managers.”
“The guy I saw yesterday and the one I’m seeing now don’t seem like the same person.”
He stares blankly for a few seconds, puffs out his cheeks, looks around. “Me?” The blush in his cheeks is rising. “Am I being too responsible right now? I can stop.” Seungmin smiles so big you can see all of his teeth.
It’s hard keeping your own smile in check. This one has to know how cute he is, and there’s no way he doesn’t use it to his advantage. “You can stop in an hour.”
“Deal.”
The two of you survive, dancing around each other for a few hours—you, purposely avoiding him several times by swerving to a different aisle. Him, well…he acted responsible all morning, smiled every time you made eye contact. When noon finally comes around, another manager shows up, and the snow finally stops.
Changbin also arrived at noon, and as soon as he and Seungmin looked at each other, all responsibility flew out the window. But you turned a blind eye to whatever goofing off they decided to do. And Seungmin, unfortunately, didn’t look in your direction the rest of the day.
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
“Does your login work yet?” Seungmin comes in and digs around in the pockets of his jacket.
You’re slumped over on the table, phone in hand, trying not to fall asleep, but you sit up when you see him come through the door, “It does.”
This is the first time you’ve seen him in three days. He was off, then you were off for two days. Now you’re on break, and he just started his shift 15 minutes ago. You’re not sure why he’s in here, and whatever he’s looking for in his pockets doesn’t seem to be there.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and then finally pulls something out. It’s his name tag. He pins it to his shirt, very crookedly, then takes it off and tries again.
“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” you squint at it and try to make out the little sticker by his name, but he’s too far away.
“The trick to falling asleep is to try to stay awake.”
“What?” You look from his name tag to his face. His hair is dark again. “Your hair.”
“My hair? Oh! I got tired of being blond.”
You like it dark. It’s not dark, though, not really. It’s a natural brown color, but he obviously did it himself, because you can still see some blond streaks coming through. It makes his skin look warm. Yes, you like it.
“If you try to keep yourself awake in bed, you fall asleep. I was trying to read on my phone last night, and I really wanted to finish the chapter, but I ended up dozing off and dropping my phone on my face.”
It’s so stupid, and so clever. And cute.
Seungmin smirks at you and turns to walk away, and then he turns back. “Does it look okay?”
You stare at him. Does what look okay? His badge? Everything from where you’re sitting looks very good, now that he mentions it. Long legs in his black jeans, a little loose around his tiny frame. There's a rip over one thigh, and you can see some of his skin peeking through. The belt holding them up had to have an extra hole poked in it, because the end of it is long enough to stick out from the dark blue work shirt.
“My hair, I mean.”
“Yeah, I like it.”
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
Seungmin isn’t alone today. His work buddy is here, and you can hear them all the way on the other side of the store. An hour or so later, another one comes in—this one you haven’t met yet, because he’s been gone all week. But as soon as he clocks in and returns to the floor, you hear all three of them laughing and acting up.
You don’t want to have to compete with two friends to get to him, but you will.
A walk by the phone accessory aisle gives you a chance to peek at them. Seungmin is sitting on the floor, legs crossed, arms propping up his long body.
Nobody else in the store seems to bother with making them work, so you don’t either. At least not now, in your first week. It’s hard enough starting a new job without worrying about making enemies—and besides, the minute you laid eyes on his him, making a new friend became your agenda.
---
And of course they all sit in the breakroom together, chatting loudly. As long as one of those two are here, you don’t imagine you’ll have any opportunity to talk to him.
They’re not teenage boys, but you wouldn’t really know it if you could only hear the conversation and not see them. You almost walk in on them, but the noise startles you just as you reach for the door knob. Stopping and listening in is not your smartest decision of the day, but once you stand silently for a few seconds, you can’t move.
The first voice is easily recognizable—it’s Changbin.
“She doesn’t talk much…she hasn’t spoken to me at all. Well, except when she told me not to break anything.”
“Well I haven’t even seen her yet, so I guess she—“
“It’s shitty being new. I’m sure she’s just trying to get used to things.”
Seungmin’s voice is surprisingly quiet.
“Maybe. You’ve worked with her more. And I always see her looking at you…so.”
“So…what?” Seungmin is still quiet but there’s a tiny bit of offense behind it.
“So maybe you’re making it easier for her to adjust.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
"Don't play dumb, Seungie...older woman, authority figure." Changbin laughs,
“Cmon Min…” this time it’s the other one talking, “we know you’re a little bit of a slut sometimes.”
He doesn’t say anything in return, but you hear his chair being pushed back, and then he gets to his feet. It takes you a second to loosen yourself from the spot, but you manage just in time and duck behind the corner.
Seungmin runs right into you when he turns and he nearly knocks you to the ground, but his hand grabs your arm to steady you. “I’m sorry…you alright?” His voice is still quiet. He’s whispering, probably because he doesn’t want them to hear.
“Yeah, I’m good.” You look up at him, and you can’t help but wonder if what they just said about him is true. They were obviously trying to rile him up, but friends are also brutally honest sometimes.
“Are you going on your break? I wouldn’t go in there yet, if you are.”
“I was going to, yes.”
“Changbin and Hyunjin are in there, and they can be a handful sometimes.”
“And you’re not?”
A nervous laugh comes out, “uhm, maybe sometimes. They’re not the best influence on me.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“I can go back and make you a coffee. Actually…”
“Seungmin you don’t have to do that.”
“…I can take you across the street and we can grab some better coffee there.”
“Seungmin,” you widen your eyes at him, because his are huge.
“Please, I want to.”
“Are you flirting with me?” You're not sure why he wants to protect you, but that's clearly what he's doing.
Another nervous laugh. His ears turn red. He stutters, “flirting…um, uh no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”
You hear them before you see them. They open the door and turn the corner before you can react—Seungmin freezes and stares at you. Changbin pushes him into the wall as he walks by, laughs, nods to you, and disappears.
“Guess the breakroom is safe now.”
“Yeah.”
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
Once today, Seungmin caught himself staring at you. He dropped his eyes back down to his phone immediately, heart racing, face red. Part of him wanted you to catch him looking, the other part is still nervous.
You asked him to watch the register specifically to keep him away from his jerk friends, and you tried not to make it too obvious, but he knows. From here, he can see you wandering around, and you can see him. They’re nowhere to be found. It’s quiet.
He won’t tell anyone (well, not them), but he likes when it’s quiet and he can be by himself. And as much as he hates watching the register, he’s glad you put him up here, because it gives him a a chance to read and people watch. Now he’s just waiting for you to walk by.
A text pops up on his phone:
Did you get in trouble Seung?
He ignores it.
She’s looking at you right now…she’s swooning
He tries to ignore him again, but he looks up and around, trying to find you. Seungmin knows Changbin is just being an asshole, but maybe you are looking at him. He’s hoping you are.
“Seungmin?”
He jumps, and nearly drops his phone. “Hi…hi. You’re very quiet.”
“Sorry. I can wear a bell, if that helps.”
“A bell? Like a…a collar?” Seungmin watches as your eyes grow big. He has no idea why he said that, and now you probably think he’s a pervert. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that.” He goes back to his phone only to see more texts—a string of laughing emojis—oh, there she is—she can’t stay away from you.
“Yeah…bell, collar. Makes sense.”
“That was..." he groans, "so stupid. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. At least I know where your mind is now.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not…I mean, I’m just a ditz.”
“You’d look much better in one.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and rubs at his cheeks. “Please don’t hate me.” His eyes pop open again, “I’d what?”
“…look cute wearing a collar.”
“I would?”
You mhm and walk away. Just leave it at that. Were you flirting? Deflecting? Making him feel less stupid?
Seungmin doesn’t feel any less stupid. A comment like that to the wrong person could mean getting fired, and he just said it to his new manager.
But he doesn’t think you’d get him in trouble. He has no reason to think you wouldn’t, but…no, you wouldn’t.
You pop up behind him again, and once again, he jumps. "It's gonna take a lot more than that to make me dislike you."
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
The next time you see him, he’s on his way out. You’re making coffee, he barrels into the breakroom to grab his things. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a great mood, so you keep your attention on your mug.
Seungmin is in his locker and mumbling to himself. And then… “oh, I didn’t know anyone was is here.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just ready to get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The ghost of a smile is on his lips as he grabs his coat and runs back out the door. You were hoping for one more awkward moment with him before either of you left tonight, but now it’ll have to wait.
But he comes back in a moment later; doesn't speak, doesn't even close the door. Just looks at you.
Seungmin has no idea why he came back in, but he was hoping a good excuse would come to him in the few seconds it took to get here. Now he's just staring stupidly and chewing on his lip.
"Hi," you smile at him and sip your coffee. "Did you want a cup before you catch your bus?"
"How'd you know I take the bus?"
"You shrug, "It's in your availability, silly."
"Oh, right. So you're not just watching me all the time?"
"I didn't say that."
They're heard before they're seen. Changbin and Hyunjin push themselves right through Seungmin on the way into the breakroom.
"Oh, hi boss," Changbin reddens and smirks when he sees you standing there, "Is this a bad time?"
"I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow." Seungmin ducks out quickly before you can even say goodbye.
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
“Don’t forget your coffee,” Hyunjin squeezes Seungmin’s shoulder as he sneaks by him.
“My what? I didn’t bring coffee in with me.”
“It has your name on it.”
He turns and see it’s sitting there. Just a black coffee, but not from here. It’s from the coffee shop across the street. And yes, his name is written neatly on the side.
“Somebody brought you coffee. How sweet.” He smirks. “Have a good shift.”
Seungmin picks it up and takes a sip. It’s still hot, so it was just set here recently. And of course he knows who put it there, because he can be a little stupid sometimes, but not that stupid. He looks at the schedule on his phone to see who he works with, and you’re right in the middle of his shift. You’ll be gone soon, but, at least he didn’t just miss you.
---
“Thank you,” he says, walking up behind you. You have your coffee in one hand, phone in the other.
“For what?” Seungmin doesn’t scare you, his voice is too sweet and soft, even if he does sneak up.
He looks at his cup, then to you.
“You’re welcome. Hopefully you always take it black.”
“Most of the time, yes.”
“Oh, and you’re getting cut today.“
“My shift was cut?”
“In half. I told the boss I needed you here until I was done.”
“You do?”
“No, but I figured half a shift was better than none. And I can give you a ride home, if you want. It’s too cold to wait on the bus.”
Seungmin sips his coffee, because he’s not sure how to respond just yet. His stomach is swirling, though, and he’s trying to conceal his smile. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
You turn to face him, “in trouble for what?”
“Favoritism.”
“You think you’re my favorite?”
He nods once, mouth still covered by his cup.
“You’re right, you are.”
---
The rest of the shift drags, and of course it would—you’re putting him in your car and taking him home in a few hours…this will be your first time seeing him outside of work. You try to keep away from Seungmin as much as possible, though, because he’s right. If you’re not careful, everyone will notice the attention you’re starting to give him.
“I’m a bit of a drive from here,” he says when you finally walk down the same aisle as him. “So if you don’t want—“
“If you can handle it on the bus, I’m sure I can handle the drive.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I don’t mind. You can get the coffee next time, if it makes you feel better.”
“Yes,” he reaches out and looks at the order on the side of your cup. “I can do that.”
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
It is a long drive. But you don’t mind, because he’s comfortable in the passenger seat; head back, eyes closed. You sneak a glance at him every chance you get, and each time, it looks like he’s sleeping soundly. It’s nice seeing him so close, letting your eyes linger even more than you dared to before. Even in the dark. The shape of his nose and lips, his jawline, his ear. The way his hair falls so nicely, and so effortlessly.
But of course he catches you, looks right back, and smiles.
“You really have such a long ride to and from work every day, Seungmin?” You blush, even though you don’t think he saw you staring.
“Yeah, it’s not bad. I’m used to it.”
“Are you saving for a car?”
“No, I can’t drive.”
“Oh, do you want to learn?”
“I’m not sure, thinking about driving makes me nervous.”
“I don’t want this to come across weird, but…how old are you?”
“I am 23. Am I too young or too old?” He flips down the visor and opens the mirror.
“Are you flirting?”
“You did it first.”
“No, I think you might have flirted first, actually.”
“When?”
“When you tried to keep me out of the breakroom. But I guess that was more for my own sake than anything.”
“I didn’t want you to have to listen to them.” Seungmin sits back again, and you can feel his stare burning into you.
“I heard them.”
“You did? What did you hear?”
“Your friends think you’re fucking me…or that you’re going to. And that you’re a slut.”
He’s quiet, and you hope you haven’t gone too far by actually saying it as crassly as they did.
“I’m not.”
“You’re not a slut?” You smile at him, hoping to break any tension you may have created. Thankfully it seems to work, because Seungmin laughs and covers his eyes. Then shakes his head.
“Or you’re not gonna fuck me?”
You can’t see his reaction, because now you have to watch the road, but he’s quiet again and it’s killing you.
“Take a left up here.” He says.
You decide to avoid eye contact completely until you get him home, and luckily, it’s not much longer. You pull into a spot as close to the door as possible, put it in park, and look at him.
He’s still relaxed, sitting back, eyes wide open and staring at you.
“I’m sorry, that was…uh, maybe too much.“
“Do you wanna come up?”
—-
Of course you do. The last three weeks you’ve spent trying to keep your distance has been torture, but you’re still nervous as you follow him down the hall to his apartment. You’re certain that as soon as you have him where you want him, you’ll snap out of it.
“This one,” he says it quietly, a little timid, maybe. You like it. “It’s probably a little messy.”
“I don’t mind.”
It’s not. Seungmin’s idea of messy is your idea of tidied up. And it’s a cute little apartment. Just looking at the couch—the big striped throw pillows, a few plushies, it doesn’t look like a typical single guys apartment. It’s cute, and it’s comfortable. It’s really cute. The kitchen is small and most of the counter space is taken up by an espresso machine and all of the things that go with it. It’s neat in here, too. Not a dish or cup out of place.
“I like it,” you turn and he’s there, an inch away from you. “Can I see the rest?”
“Of course.”
The rest being his bedroom, and he leads you right in. It’s a little darker in here, but it’s still very him. It’s sweet, a little bit colorful, and very very soft.
The dog plush on top of one of his pillows reminds you of something important, “oh, you're collar. It's at home.”
“My collar? You got me a collar?”
“Yeah, it’s really cute.” You close the gap between you and grab the neck of his shirt, “sit.”
He does. Seungmin sits on the edge of his bed, not breaking eye contact. He leans back and rests on his hands, stretches out his long torso, spreads his knees as you put a leg between them. "What does it look like?"
You run your hand up to his throat and very, very lightly close your hand around it. No need to scare him off immediately. You want to squeeze, but right now you’re perfectly content just touching him "It's red...dark red, and has a gold chain across the front."
"A bell?"
“Of course. A tag, if you want.”
His eyes light up, and his hand wraps around your thigh, thumb moves in gentle circles. It sends a little shiver up your arms. He’s making your head swim, and you need to get a hold of yourself.
"...but you won't be fucking me."
"Huh?" he stops, and his mouth opens a little.
It seems a little bold of him, but he slides both hands up your thighs, up your hips, and hooks his fingers underneath your leggings. You told him he won’t be fucking you, and yet…
He pulls down, gently, until you can kick them to the side...and he looks up at you with pleading eyes. You grab a handful of his pretty hair and put his lips on you, and he kisses your hip so softly, you feel like you could melt.
“No," you push him back a little and straddle him. He’s resting on one elbow, and the other hand is slowly moving up toward your ass. “No, pup…I’m fucking you.”
He mouths the word pup, bites down on his lips, tries to hold back his smile. “Yes, please.”
“Please? Oh, I knew you were the one.”
“I am,” Seungmin falls to his back, and sighs…moans, “I am, noona.” His hips buck up and he looks down at his quickly growing erection. Seungmin was probably already halfway there when he invited you up.
He needs let loose, but first you feel him over his clothes. He’s a handful, and he twitches when your fingers move along his length.
“Please…” he whispers, and his puppy eyes are impossible to deny. Now you want to give him everything. “Take care of me.”
“Oh, Seungmin…” you unbuckle his belt, unbutton, unzip. Very slowly. “I will.”
“Minnie.”
“Hmm?” You run a hand over him again, and the red, needy tip of his cock peeks out from his briefs. “What’d you say?”
“Call me—“ he’s cut short by your lips wrapping around his head. His moan cuts through you, your pussy throbs, and your mouth sucks him in a little more. “…call me Minnie.”
“Minnie,” you moan, licking the pre-cum from his stomach. “Minnie, you’re so hard for me.”
Finally, you pull at the sides of his jeans, slide them down his legs, and throw them to the side. You suck him in as far as you can—he squirms, and his hips jerk up toward your mouth, pushing him in even further. A slap on his thigh settles him, letting you work him at your own pace. You don’t want him anywhere near close yet, because you’re just getting started.
“Are you gonna be good for me?” You look at him, stroke him slowly, take in the rest of his body. His sweatshirt is still on, but pushed up just enough for you to see his stomach.
“Yes, I’ll be good.”
You lean down and kiss his stomach, run your tongue across his belly button, “take that off.”
Seungmin listens and pulls his sweatshirt over his head.
“Look at me.”
He does. He doesn’t break eye contact when you suck him back into your mouth, stroke hard and slow, lick the pre-cum leaking out of him again. His moan is desperate and whiny, just how you like it.
“You’re so pretty, Minnie.” You crawl over him, leaving kisses on his body as you go, and when you stop at his throat, he whines a little and licks his lips. “So sweet.”
You’re making him blush. And you give him no warning when you take his dick and slide it across the wet fold of your cunt. His fingers grip your thighs, and you let him hold on as you push him in. Despite how wet you are, it takes a little work. You slide down slowly until he disappears completely inside of you.
The sound he makes for you is so much better, so much softer than you thought it would be—he’s already begging for more.
You grind your hips into him and stretch yourself around his thickness, get used to how much he’s filling you up. “Minnie,” you moan. “Fuck.”
You could do this until you come. You might. He seems like he's enjoying himself, too.
His hips lift and hit you deeper. You let him, because it feels too good. He mumbles something, but you’re too lost in how he’s making you feel.
When your hands grip the sheets next to him, his wrap around your arms, slide up, and then back down. “You feel so good,” he purrs.
You lift your hips and bounce on him, slowly at first, because he’s already losing it. He has no problem making noise and his moans drown out whatever he’s trying to say…
so good… don’t… stop… please… ah… so tight...I'm gonna...
“Oh no baby, not yet,” you slow down and grind on him again, hitting just the right spot. You lean back and hit it even harder, over and over. Each pound against his hips makes him whine. “Pup, you’re gonna make me come already, you’re such a good boy.”
You do. You look at him as you squeeze him tight, relax, and gently bounce up and down. Seungmin smiles and licks his lips—the only sound is the wet slide of him being covered in your come, and it's all he can keep his eyes on.
He bucks up hard, “I wanna come,” and again, you let him. He’s getting away with far too much, but he feels so good, and he’s too cute, and he’s too gentle. And you can’t wait to make him come. But not yet.
“Soon Minnie, I promise,” you lean forward and groan with the change in angle. “I want you all night.” You place a kiss on his chest, bite and kiss his nipple.
“I can come for you…all night.”
“I bet you can.”
“Kiss me, please.”
“I am…” you laugh and work you way further up.
“Please,” he whispers. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks.”
“You have?”
“Yeah…mhm, I have.”
“Oh, you…you like me, huh? I mean—”
Seungmin nods, “don’t you like me?”
“I like you very much,” you kiss the corner of his mouth, bite his lip, and then finally press your lips against his. He kisses so eagerly, so hungrily, you almost can’t keep up with his tongue.
He hums and moans down your throat, holds onto your thighs tight enough to leave marks—fucks you, slowly and deeply, rolling his hips so smoothly you can already feel another orgasm rising. You wonder if he even knows how good he is.
“Min—” you just barely get it out around his lips. “Minnie…”
He slows down, but doesn’t stop.
“Easy,” you finally pry him off of you and push him down, hand just below his throat, “take it easy.”
“Sorry,” Seungmin slows his hips down even more, and eventually comes to a stop. His fingers are still digging into your skin, and his chest is heaving.
“No,” you run your fingers up and down his throat, kiss him one more time, and pull him up by the back of his neck until he’s sitting. “Nothing to be sorry for, you’re still a good boy.”
This has been too easy. You weren’t sure how easy it would be to get him underneath you, falling apart, begging for more…but you had a feeling he wanted it just as much as you. What you weren’t completely sure of was how much control he’d give to you.
Luckily, Seungmin is just what you hoped he would be: gentle, pliant, needy for attention, and very horny.
He melts into your touch—your fingers running through his hair, your thumbs running over his ears, still red and warm. You kiss and suck at the skin on his jaw, not caring if you leave marks. And very slowly, you start to move your hips again.
You have his shoulders for leverage now, and your arms are wrapped loosely around him. From this position he could take so much more control, but he doesn’t. He’s content just watching you move on him, looking up every so often until you look back. Every time you do, a smile tugs at his lips, and you can tell he just wants to kiss you again.
Keeping it from him is becoming a challenge. He craves touch and affection, and he might be the most patient, well-behaved fuck you’ve had in a long time, so you will give it to him eventually.
“Seungmin?” His name feels so nice rolling off of your tongue.
He looks at you…flushed, sweat rolling down the bridge of his nose. He answers by sliding his palm up along your spine.
“Seungmin…” you lock your arms around him, pull him in until your foreheads are touching, and start fucking him faster. He holds you steady, pulls you toward him, grinds you on his cock just how he likes it. “Oh god…ah, just like that, pup. Fuck.”
“Yeah?” He leans forward and kisses, “that feels good, hm?”
His words come out so heavy and warm and thick. You can’t stop him, you won’t. He keeps his pace and movements so steady, and it feels so good you could cry.
“Come for me, please. I wanna hear you.”
Seungmin, you whine his name, pathetically, like you’re falling apart, because you are. You moan and your legs start to shake, but he holds you tighter and keeps you moving on him. In and out, back and forth. Right where you need it. Over and over.
You cry out, and he smiles as he works you through it—gradually slowing down as you relax...then he lifts you up and off of him.
“No, I’m not done with you.”
“Just a little break,” he pushes his forehead against yours again, closes in on your lips, but you shake your head.
“You’re not in charge, pup.”
“I’m not, I know. Catch your breath.”
“You feel so good...I wanna keep going.”
“Not yet…” he grabs you around the middle and puts you on your back. “Relax.”
“Minnie…what are you doing?”
The room spins. You close your eyes. The bed shifts as he lays down, and you feel a blanket being pulled up and over you. And then his arm is there, pulling you against his warm body and holding you tight. Seungmin is turning everything upside down. You’re melting into him, and you like it.
“What about you?” You mumble into his chest, “I wanna make you feel good.”
“You are…don’t worry. We’re just catching our breath.”
“Seungmin”
He rubs your back, “hmm?” pulls away just enough to look at you.
“Nothing”
“Nothing? You sure?”
“No. What are we doing? Ooh…you like me.” It’s hard not to smile when you say it out loud again. “Do you, really?”
He laughs and tries to hide his face behind the blanket. “Yeah, sorry. Am I complicating things?”
“You are, but it’s okay.”
“Is it too much? We can keep going, if that’s what you want. You can take over again.”
“Is this what you like, sweetie?” You slide a fingertip along his jaw and over his ear. “Just being like this? Kissing…” you pull him close for one, “touching.”
“Yeah, yeah I do.” Seungmin is excited and relaxed and nervous all at once. You’re a little more than he was expecting, but he’s not going to complain. He wanted this. He still wants it.
Another kiss on his lips, “you just want taken care of, yeah?”
He nods.
“Good,” as soon as you wiggle your hand free, you slide it down his stomach until your fingertips find him, still hard. Taking care of Seungmin is the only thing on your mind now; making him feel good, giving him all the attention and affection he needs. Making sure he comes back for more.
Slow, gentle strokes—a kiss between his eyes, on the tip of his nose. You almost get teeth when you go for the smile on his lips.
His hands are all over you, touching everywhere he can.
You swallow every little moan that passes his lips, every hitch in his breath when he can’t keep from pushing his hips against you. He gets closer, and he wants more, but you just keep kissing him and touching him just enough.
“Can I…”
“Hmm?”
His eyes scan your face, and he pushes you flat on your back again. Before you even think of protesting, he’s on you, lips on your neck, hands on your thighs, hips grinding into yours. He stretches you out and his thumb finds your clit, still swollen and sensitive.
You focus on kissing him and letting him work. It’s not that you can’t give up control—you just usually don’t. Seungmin is making it easy, though. His pace isn’t too much. He’s not smothering you, and he’s not selfishly pounding you into the bed. Your thighs are resting on his lap, hips up, legs curled around him. And every time he slides in, his dick hits right where you need it to. You can breath between his kisses, and you can enjoy every soft movement of his fingers.
“Should’ve let you take over sooner…”
A pretty smile spreads across his face, and you get lost in his eyes; two big black crescent moons, squished by his pink cheeks. You’ve never had someone smile at you like him. Not while they fucked you like this, at least.
“So good...feels so good,” you barely hear him when he breathes it out. "Does it, baby?"
His mouth is on yours before you can answer, wet and messy, teeth biting and pulling at your lips—down to your throat, he bites and sucks and licks at the sweat forming there.
“You like leaving marks, pup?” You ask, but in your head is an echo of him calling you baby.
The mhmm against your neck makes you shiver.
“Should I keep them out for your friends to see?”
Seungmin is up and back in your face… "yes"…forehead against yours, “please.”
He’s getting so close. Whiney shallow breaths, slow deep thrusts.
“Come in me…it’s okay.”
That…and your fingers grabbing for his hair—that’s all he needed. It hits him and he falls onto you. Your hands move to wrap around his waist, and you hold tight as he slows himself and fills you up. All of his weight on you feels so good, though. His sweat and his heat, his heavy breaths moving across your face.
He shifts to kiss your neck again. Softly, though...no marks this time.
The room is quiet for a while, and only sounds are your legs rubbing against the sheets, against his thighs, the wet release of Seungmin’s lips on your skin.
“You okay?” He finally breaks the silence. “Was that okay?”
You nod and knead your fingers into his shoulders, “you have a good touch, pup.”
“I like that," he sighs, pulls himself out, crashes down next to you. But his arm stays draped over your stomach,
“Hmm, what do you like?”
He props himself up and bats his eyes at you, “I like being pup. Do you call…um, do you call other guys cute nicknames?” Seungmin looks away when he finally stutters it out.
“What makes you think there are other guys?”
And now his face turns bright red. “Oh, sorry, you’re just...you seem like you know what you're doing. You know what you want."
“It's alright. There hasn’t been anyone in a while.”
“Just me,” he whispers, and smirks.
“You’re my only pup.”
"Good."
Lips press against your shoulder, his arm squeezes and brings you closer. You can't help but lean into his embrace. Even now, after everything is done, at least for the moment, you can't escape your growing feelings for him. Sex didn't quench the desire—you don't want to get dressed and leave, you don't want to be done and rid of him until the feeling returns.
The guys you usually sleep with are one night stands for a reason, and you never think of them again when they leave. And you certainly don't give them cute nicknames.
"You threw me off a little, though."
"I did? What did I do?" he laughs, and he has no idea how much it cuts through you. "You were amazing."
"You're so sweet."
Seungmin searches your face, but he can’t figure out what’s going on in your head. It seems like you feel the same as he does, or it did, but right now is when it matters. You caught each other, you poured yourselves out all over place. Now what?
"What's wrong?" he gets even closer, and his nose is almost brushing against yours. "Coming down from everything, maybe? Do you want me to get your stuff so you can get dressed?"
"No, I don't wanna leave."
The relief that washes over his face—you can see it. He isn’t trying to be subtle, because Seungmin has already confessed his feelings to you. You kind of did, too. The difference is, you lied, because you weren’t totally, completely, one hundred percent sure until a few minutes ago.
Now he’s looking down at you like he didn’t just give you three orgasms, and like his come isn’t slowly dripping out of you.
“Not yet.”
“You can stay as long as you want.”
“I can take us to work in the morning.”
“You wanna spend the night? Ah, I can make us dinner, and breakfast…unless, maybe that’s too much.”
“No, it's not. But I am wondering something..."
He’s so eager to hear. He rests his chin on you and grins, “what is it?”
“Can we do that again? Can you really come all night?
331 notes · View notes
angelic-sturniolos111 · 6 months
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Matt’s Teammate 💙
You get selected by Laura to be Matt’s teammate at The Versus Tour. As you compete together, Matt seems a bit off his game, because he has instantly started crushing on you. Matt knows that there’s a chance he may never even see you again… but that changes after he talks with Nick and Chris backstage after the show.
matt sturniolo x fem! reader
warnings: slight cursing
themes: tons of fluff
author’s note: haven’t been to a show yet so idk what order the challenges are in so I might have gotten them mixed up but you get the idea :)
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You stood watching the show live from the television backstage waiting for the triplets to introduce their teammates for the challenges. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest— you couldn’t even believe this was genuinely happening to you.
“Okay Y/N, the boys should be ready for you three in about two minutes. I told the other girls to line up by the curtain if you could join them over there for me.” Laura, their manager, said to you gesturing to where the other teammates were standing.
“Sure!… I don’t know if I have ever been this nervous before, honestly.” You say letting out a deep sigh all while a big smile was plastered across your face.
“Awe don’t worry hun they are sweet kids and I’m sure Matt will make you feel comfortable once you’ve sat with him for a bit. Good luck, and remember to have fun!” Laura’s words of encouragement made you feel a bit better. The two of you walked over to the curtain just behind the stage. You could just barely see the stage through the opening of the curtain where you saw the canvases, aprons, and paints already set up for your first challenge.
“Alright you guys so as you already know we have a few challenges set up for us tonight that we will be doing with a fan from tonight’s show. Let’s welcome our teammates for the night!” Nick says through the microphone as the audience erupts in cheers. Oh man, here we go! You think to yourself as you follow the others out past the curtain into the bright stage lights.
Matt’s POV:
I watch as our teammates come on stage, and keep my eye out for a girl in blue. I see as she turns the corner, and I am stunned. She’s dressed in a cute sporty blue top and joggers, but it was her smile that immediately caught my attention. I’ve met tons of fans before, and many of them are very pretty, but she is beautiful. I felt like everything was in slow motion for a moment until she drew me out of my daydream.
“Hi Matt I’m Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you!” Ugh, even her voice was cute! She wraps her arms around my shoulders as mine wrap around her body as we hug. “I am such a big fan of yours!” She says as she gives me a soft squeeze before releasing the hug.
“Awesome!” I replied. Awesome? That was the best I could come up with?
***
We had already begun our “Work of Art” challenge, but I had to stand behind the canvas until the timer was finished. I watched Y/N’s face as she concentrated on painting all while laughing out of nervousness as she switched from color to color sporadically. Luckily, she was too concentrated on the challenge to notice me staring at her, admiring her beauty.
“Dude, Matt literally said the same thing.” Chris’s voice echoes through the microphone. “Right?” He says looking at me for approval. I was so zoned out looking an Y/N that I had no idea what he had even just said.
“Oh.. what? Ohh yeah yeah I did say that.” I stuttered, trying to bring myself back to reality and focus on the performance. Did I say what Chris said I said? No fucking clue. Nick turns and gives me a slightly confused look. “Matt, wake the fuck up we have a show to do bro!” Chris shouts and the audience erupts in laughter and cheers. I smile and let out a small laugh to hide my embarrassment. I turn back to Y/N to see she is already looking up at me with a small grin on her face. Great, now I’m really embarrassed. I’m hoping these colored stage lights can mask the fact that I feel my cheeks burning red at the moment.
Y/N POV:
The score was currently 5:7:8 with Chris in the lead, Nick in second, and Matt and I in last. We were off to a strong start from Matt winning popular vote, and us winning the painting challenge, then Matt scoring most of the baskets in the free throw challenge. We were down to the last challenge, the jenga showdown, which was by far the most tense. Though we were in last, I was still having such an amazing time.
I cheer Matt on as he gently pushes a block from out of the stack and places it on top the tower. He did it so easily and confidently that the audience roared in unison, screaming for Matt.
“Okay, maybe I can redeem myself in jenga, but Chris is still probably going to win… I’m sorry.” Matt turned and said as Nick took his turn. Matt looked at the ground, and had a defeated look on his face.
“Hey, don’t worry about it! We did are best, and we had fun which is far more important than winning in the end anyway.” I say, and he looks up and gives me a smile before putting his arm around me for a side hug. Our hug was interrupted by the audience screaming loudly, and we look to see the jenga blocks on the floor as Nick covers his face with his hands and stomps in anger at his team’s loss.
I cheer for Chris during his “crowning ceremony,” and he gave each of the teammates a hug as we congratulated them. I saw Nick, and gave him a big hug telling him I love him as I totally fangirl. Lastly, I turn to Matt who looks bummed from our loss.
“I had such an amazing time tonight! I hope you three have so much fun on the rest of the tour, and good luck! I’ll be rooting for you.” I say to Matt as I give him one last hug. I was surprised to find that he wasn’t pulling away from the hug right away as to finish the show, but he remained with his arms wrapped around me in a sentimental embrace. “It was great to meet you, Y/N. You’re an amazing teammate.” Matt says as he pulls away from the hug halfway, smiling down at me.
“K dude… let’s go.” Chris nudges Matt, and I realize I am the only teammate left on stage. I pull away fully and wave bye to the triplets as I exit the stage. What a night.
Matt’s POV:
My brothers and I were backstage packing the last of our things after finishing the post-show meet and greet and VIP backstage fan experience.
“Matt, are you okay? You seemed off tonight bro.” Chris says.
“Yeah I was gonna say the same thing but I haven’t had a chance to bring it up since the show ended. Is something going on?” Nick says concerned.
“Yeah… no. I don’t know. It’s stupid.” I said as I continued to pack and try to ignore the conversation.
“Come on Matt, you can tell us!” Says Nick.
“Was your teammate being freaking weird or something? Making you uncomfortable?” Chris exclaims as he comes to my side grabbing the things from my hands and putting them on the couch to stop me in my tracks.
“No she wasn’t weird at all. Her name is Y/N, and she was amazing. She is amazing. I wish you guys could’ve seen more of her because she was just so damn nice and sweet and—”
“Hot?” Chris cuts me off as he laughs.
“Well, yeah. I mean, she was beautiful. Not only that but in between challenges we were talking about how she appreciates my mental health content, and what videos of ours she likes. The whole show too she just had such a positive attitude and it made me feel really… happy. You know?” I said passionately, and I could feel the heat rising in my face once more.
“Aweeee Matty B you have a crush on a fan! That is too cute!” Nick says adoringly. “But seriously, she sounds wonderful. Did you get her social media or anything?” Nick asks, and by this point the three of us are all sitting together on the couch talking about it. I shook my head no.
“Okay, well, you got her name and she was on stage tonight so I’m sure something of her will pop up on social media somewhere.” Chris says.
“Why does it matter if she posts? Sure, I can follow her, but it’s not like I’m ever going to see her again or anything.” I snap at the two as I get off the couch and continue packing my bag.
“But why not though? Yeah she’s a fan, but she looked like she was around our age and she lives in the states as far as we know.” Chris says. “Mmm but she could have a boyfriend.” Chris says hesitantly.
“Or girlfriend!” Nick chimes in.
“Alright whatever, can we let this go and get to the bus?” I said, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.
***
We walk out of the venue and hear the cheers of those fans who stayed behind after the show to watch us get back on the tour bus. I walked behind Chris and Nick, walking a bit slower, trying to scan the fans for Y/N, but no luck.
On the bus, I reposted the group instagram post of Chris’s win to my story. I took a picture from inside the bus, and captioned it “Even though I lost tonight I had fun, and that’s what matters 💙🩹”. I hit post, and immediately was getting tons of replies and tags. I was casually scrolling through my DM requests, when a username with “Y/N” catches my eye. I click on the request to view the message.
“You’re the best Matt! I hope to see you perform again in the future 🥰” the message read. I click on her profile. No way. It was Y/N! My heart started beating a little faster as I skimmed through her instagram feed. She was insanely attractive, and looked like a great person to be around, which I had gathered from our interaction tonight. I go back to the message and stare at it for a few minutes, my mind and heart racing. Do I reply to her message? Do I ask her out somehow? What if she does have a boyfriend, or girlfriend like Nick said? What if I make a complete ass of myself, or worse, she posts my reply all over the internet? I was playing a million different scenarios in my head. I’ve always been so shy, having trouble talking to girls I like, but my brothers and the fans have really boosted my confidence over this last year. I want to roll with that confidence…
“I had fun tonight, Y/N. You seem like a really great girl, and I would love to see you again if I can.” I typed out. I immediately hit send as to not give myself too much time to rethink my decision. Now, the waiting game. I throw my phone down on the table because staring at the screen waiting for her to reply made me too anxious. Chris and Nick came and sat down with me soon after, and I didn’t dare tell them what I just did in fear they’d yell at me, or tell me I made a huge mistake. Time goes by, and we watch tv as we travel to our next show. My phone dings, and I grab it as quick as I can to open the notification.
“Woah you’re smiling big, who’s that?” Nick asks.
I’m silent for a moment. In disbelief. Smiling from ear to ear.
“It’s Y/N!’
****************************
Thanks for reading my first Sturniolo short! Let me know if you’d want a part two! <3
UPDATE: Part 2 linked here !
335 notes · View notes
toruvi · 4 months
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It's 3:04 in the afternoon when you're buried nose-deep in writing your research paper. And though you've been trying to focus on it for the last half hour, the only thing on your mind is literally all of the other things you need to get done. Clean your room, do the dishes, finish that late assignment (it's been almost a week now!) Shit. Too many things to do, and there's never enough hours in the day to feel like you can finish them.
You may or may not have been tipping over the edge of a breaking point for a while now.
But you've been convinced that it was hidden fairly well, at least from your friends. They don't press more than a simple "good luck with your paper" or "talk to you soon" when you tell them how busy you are.
However, your boyfriend definitely notices.
Levi isn't one to not speak his mind when something bothers him. In fact, he's pointed out several times in the last week that you shouldn't be overworking yourself. Out of anyone you know, Levi knows your limits the most. And he must see it where you don't, considering he's walked into your apartment with his copy of the key and is now standing over you, a paper bag in his hand as he glares down his nose.
"Hey," you mumble, turning back to your laptop screen in front of you. But the laptop is forced shut by a veiny hand, replaced with the plop of that same paper bag Levi was just holding. "Whats that?"
You pout when he slides the laptop down the dining table.
"Lunch. You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"I know you are, don't fight me on this. Please just eat with me. Forget about your work for a minute."
He pulls out the boxes in the bag, revealing a couple of sandwiches. Fine, maybe you're a little hungry.
"You didn't answer my calls so I had to guess what you would've liked," Levi murmurs as he slides the boxes toward you. You mutter an apology, but he's not mad. He waves it off, simply telling you to eat and "stop worrying about shit for one damn second."
With anyone else, it might've pissed you off.
When you're absorbed in your work, it's hard to gather energy to talk to other people, let alone even take care of yourself. And yet, somehow, Levi is the one person who manages to read you like a book. For some reason, he's able to pick up on your bouts of silence and understand what you need. You always wondered how he can do that.
And though he's yet to say "I love you", you wonder if gestures like this are close enough to that.
He doesn't ask about work, merely sits with you and eats in silence. The brief moment of quiet feels good, comforting even. Especially in Levis presence. Despite his coarse language and tendency to maintain a glare most if not all times, you've always found him to be so... Stable. A steady wall to lean on when the world makes your stance tremble.
You really love that about him.
When you two have finished, Levi promptly cleans up the table. You assume it's okay to go back to work, but his hand lands on yours when you try to pull it back.
"You're done for the day," he says with a firm stare. The usual one he gives when he absolutely refuses to listen to any counterargument you might come up with. "We're gonna go for a walk, take you outside. Just get out of this shit and breathe some real fresh air."
"I'm not a dog," you grumble as he holds out his hand to you now to help you stand.
"Mhm," is all he says.
You two walk around the neighborhood, Levi having taken away your phone in an effort to keep you from too much more screen time. He'd return it if you really asked, but you're thankful for the restriction in all honesty.
Usually, Levi isn't the one to initiate an exorbitant amount of physical contact. It's you who tends to absentmindedly cling to his arm while you're talking. And it's generally you who comes up behind him to cover his eyes and make him guess who, despite the fact that he already knew just from the sound of your footsteps.
Most often, Levi does attend to little touches here and there. The back of your neck, the edge of your hip, the top of your thigh, along the line of your jaw. And now in this moment, it's when Levi steps up a little and takes your hand completely in his. It isn't anything new for you to hold hands, but it's rare for him to be initiator.
You appreciate that. Those moments where he's willing to be more brave about touching. It's calming, feeling his fingers between yours as your arms sway with every step.
"I'm sorry for being so short with you lately," you sigh, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk you step on. Levi always seems to make a subconscious effort not to step on them, even now.
"It's nothing. I'm always short with you, anyways..." He trails off quietly.
Your sudden snort startles him, obvious with the incredulous look on his face as you burst into a tiny fit of laughter. His brow raises in confusion.
"That wasn't even close to being a funny joke and you're still laughing?"
"It was funny to me! You're always funny."
"You're the only person in the whole world who thinks that."
"Must be why you're dating me, right?"
His hold tightens around your hand. "I'm dating you because I l-"
Levi cuts himself off and inhales through his nose, pushing his sunglasses up to hide his eyes as he recomposes himself. "I'm dating you for a multitude of reasons."
"You could be more specific."
"If you keep talking I'm gonna have fewer reasons," he clears his throat, hovering his free hand over his eyes to shield himself from the sun, leaving remnants of the summer's heat on his skin.
You smile, for the first time in a few days, actually. "I thought you were trying to make me feel better."
"Hmph." Clearly, Levi has nothing else to say.
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lirational · 4 months
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Eleven thirsts,
Hmmm I’d imagine alpha!Eleven to be quite possessive of her omega as well as partake in exhibitionism
Like imagine she’s fucking you during a stream, not only showing you off to everyone but also showing everyone that you are hers and that she alone can only bring you this pure sexual bliss
I’d also like to think she’s the clingy aftercare type. Cuddling and kissing you after you two finish a couple rounds of love making
Very cute in my opinion
(Unbeta’d) smut under the cut. Minors DNI!
Disclaimer that I am only halfway through the event, sorry!
Warnings: Exhibitionism, Eleven has a cock (obviously), knotting.
It was like the barrier between your thoughts and your lips were demolished, each thrust of Eleven’s cock causing you to shudder and grip the edges of the table tighter, tighter until you swore you could feel something shatter beneath your fingers.
She savored each sharp intake of breath, each gasp as you felt her thrust hitting that sweet, sweet spot inside you, each whisper of her name, and each plea torn between wanting her to stop or to continue, her teasing remarks adding fuel to the fire as she answered the questions from people who were calling her. It was late at night, making it almost all too easy to convince anyone that there was really nothing else going on, as Eleven answered their questions with her usual friendly demeanor. She was fully in her element, a contrast to you, where each slow thrust were a battle to keep your voice down and hopefully not make a fool of yourself—
A press on the bulge on your lower belly obliterated your thoughts, as you let out a loud, unmistakable moan, shattering all semblance of dignity you managed to scrounge up.
“There is no need to be nervous, you’re already singing for everyone here, right?” She whispered, each word from her sinful tongue intensifying the scent of camellia in the air, clinging onto your senses to obscure everything else. Eleven was quick to tease the current caller when they asked what was going on, and yet, you cannot afford to feel bad for the clueless caller as they became flustered, stuttering an apology as they hung up the phone, the suddeness of it causing a couple of beeps.
“Well, it seems our caller ‘D’ here chose to not continue our call. Regardless, I wish them good luck in their romantic endeavors.”
There was a devious lilt to her voice as she gripped your hips tight, a low groan escaping her as she sheathed herself fully to the hilt.
“Oh, what is it? I should make a segment where I give advice? Thank you, I might consider it,”
Drool had escaped the corner of your lips, sweat dripping to the scripts she had set up as aid, yet she didn’t seem to mind, treating each thrust as a game, until not even her prowess could hide what was going on in the room.
Crimson lit up your cheeks at the thought.
“Oh, you like this, my little omega? Both of us teetering on the, aah, brink of discovery?” She whispered, her voice low. She was close, you could feel how her body tremble, how her cock twitches inside you as you both teeter closer to a satisfying release. “So insatiable, so good, and all mine, close and caged together with me~”
With the final word, she bit on the nape of your neck, bruising your skin as you felt her paint your insides with white, enough to fill you to the brim. Her release heralded your own, as you saw white not a few seconds later, creating a mess of stringy white on her dress, your voice practically telling everyone that you two were locked by the hip the whole time. Despite the challenge, Eleven didn’t even frown, as she stared at the mixture of your mess staining her clothes with eyes full of desire.
“You did so good, good girl, all for me,” she murmured onto your skin, tenderly kissing the dip of your shoulder in a gesture of pure affection. A quick farewell marked the end of her stream, then she pressed you against her shoulder, ruffling your head as she tells you to rest for now until she could pull herself out of you.
As you closed your eyes, she eyed where her cock were buried inside you, humming in satisfaction at the mixture of fluids.
Perhaps, both of you could take a warm bath later.
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wisteriaiswriting · 3 months
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Hello! May I request for Sova, Iso, Gekko, Jett, cypher, and Reyna reacting to a reader who absolutely loves sour things? For example she eats lemons like oranges in a daily basis and eats super sour candy like it's nothing
𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕪 ℙ𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕪 𝕃𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟 𝕊𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕫𝕪
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He’ll search around for any type of sour recipes, to either make them himself or find someone else if he has a lack of time.
Most of the time he’ll try the food, whether or not he actually likes them (I imagine him as a spicer type.) you’ll be able to have the majority.
***
Hours ago he left, and the only answer you got when asked was ‘Market.’ It seemed he was planning something as he would normally tell you, and even ask if you would accompany him.
This time though you were left in the dark until he returned. Which luckily wasn’t too long ago, now you had to endure him removing you from the kitchen for who knows how long. First he leaves you then bans you from your own house? What was he up to?
Well luck seemed to be on your side today as he was quick to call for you. Returning to see a bunch of packets on the counter, a closer inspection only showed Russian writing on them. Even with the images you had no clue.
“Y/N, I believe you’ve been asking about my homelands candy?”
Oh…
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Majority of the time he just… doesn’t notice the amount of sour stuff you eat.
The only items he notices are the wrappers, fruits and other foods, although he won’t question you about it.
***
Recently Iso had started noticing a few things. Such as candy wrappers, especially sour candy. The fruit bowls had more lemons and other citrus fruits then the normal ones, the pantry was similar.
It wasn’t weird though, he had his preferences and you had yours. It just seemed to be sour food. While he wouldn’t eat it much if you enjoyed it he wouldn’t complain.
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He’s learnt to handle anything but sour growing up.
If you eat anything sour in his sight he will openly cringe, might say something as well.
***
Gekko was bored. Everyone else was either on a mission or just too busy to deal with him, except you. He found you in the kitchen, eating what he assumed were grapes, from a bowl.
“Mateo, what some?” You held your hand out, which held the fruits. Ones he took gracefully. The sweet flavour never showed, instead covered by immediate sourness. Causing him to spit them out.
“What was that?”
“Hmm?”
“Those!” He pointed at the mess.
“Oh, they’re Gooseberries.”
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She's cooked and tasted more than her fair share of sour food, so she’s learnt how to handle it.
Is aware not many people can handle sour well, but that won’t stop her from teasing anyone.
***
It was Jett’s turn to make dinner, and this time she made Tungsuyuk. She’s grown so used to cooking for the both of you she honestly forgot how others couldn’t handle the sourness of it.
But she also made yours special, able to give you a larger portion. Even then the others couldn’t handle it.
“Jett! What did you put in this?”
“C’mon Neon, I thought you could handle this?” Turns out she couldn’t, watching the group either give up or drink more water.
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Due to his connections and access, if there's something you want he’ll be able to get it, the only problem is if he will.
He is kinda a picky eater, also much prefers spice over sour. So he won’t try many, only a select few me might enjoy.
***
The mission brief had just finished, and unluckily for you Cypher managed to scurry off from you. So until he came back around you’d have to either entertain yourself or find someone, but it seems he thought of that already.
As a decently sized box sat on your bed, seemingly just delivered as all the agents were in the meeting. And on top sat a note.
‘My Dear,
Hopefully these are to your liking, I’ll be waiting for your answer.
Love, Amir.’
And you guessed it, the box was full of sour Moroccan snacks and foods. Knowing he’ll be ready to order them and more.
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This woman is not fazed, as she’s seen worse things. But will look at you like you asked the dumbest question ever if she sees you eating a lemon, at all.
From her experience souls taste… different to say. And a good few are weirdly sour, so she isn’t too put off by their flavour and sensation.
***
The day was just another, this one neither you or Reyna were to be sent on missions. So you spent it hanging around with others, while she was training. When she finally finished she started walking back to her room, passing you and Gekko in the living area.
A quick glance had her brain assuming you held an orange, nothing out of the ordinary. Until Gekko spoke up.
“Ew dude, why would you- stay away!”
At first she was alarmed until she remembered who you two were. Slowly stepping back to see you holding out the orange- wait no, that's not an orange. You were holding a lemon, one that currently had a bite mark.
At the realization she could only stare at you, turning into a glare when you made eye contact.
“Want some?”
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revengeghoulette · 8 days
Text
Matcha Latte w/ Rose
Part 1: The Meet Cute, Barista Swiss x Professor Mountain
I’ve had this idea written down since February, because a friend made me a matcha latte with oat milk and a splash of rose and I was like yup this is definitely Them. I also definitely did not describe my dream of owning a book & coffee shop. 
No mentions of matcha this part, but definitely next part.
@divine-misfortune bc i really enjoyed your tags :) @obsidianghoul, @gottagho-st @foxybouquet @rainsbasspick @hypnoneghoul bc Swissalps
Slightly edited, might go back in and edit some more
Swiss works at a quiet little bookstore and coffee shop owned by an elderly couple. They’ve been training him to take over the business since they're too old to be doing this sort of thing, and want to leave it to a local who will take care of their business. He’s always wanted to be a businessman and run a little local shop. A safe space for all the so-called weirdos in the community, especially the college kids trying to figure out who they are. Fresh baked goodies round the clock, fresh coffee, a bookstore with an upstairs quiet area for studying with sleeping pods in case anyone needs a place for the night, or just needs a nap. 
Once he officially became the owner, he changed its name to Rosy Crown Bookshop and Cafe. He hired a few teens, a handful of part-time college kids, and his friends Mist and Sunny, who help run the bookshop side of things and do other management stuff. 
Swiss enjoys working as a barista and running the cafe. He enjoys seeing all the new faces at the start of the semester, but mostly, he enjoys the fact that his coffee shop is the go-to study place. He also hosts study sessions, trivia nights, and other little destressors for students. During midterms and finals, the cafe would be open 24/7 for those procrastinators and extreme studiers. Mist, Sunny and Swiss don’t mind staying open for them and working long hours. 
The start of a new semester was around the corner. New faces were slowly starting to roll in, exploring the bookshop, trying the seasonal drinks, and a few asking for employment. Many nervous freshmen calm down after chatting with Swiss, knowing they have a safe space to come to for studying.
Swiss was finishing opening the coffee shop when he walked in. He’s tall, slender, wears glasses, tousled reddish brown hair that matches the autumnal leaves outside. Swiss was taken aback by this beautiful man… wait no. Ghoul? There’s a certain scent to him. He was too distracted to notice that he was ringing the bell for assistance. Snapping out of it, Swiss walks behind the counter to take his order. 
“Hi, welco-” Swiss starts, but never finished.
The man looks up the menu, only to say “12 oz drip coffee.” 
Swiss is shocked at the man’s abruptness, “oh sure, name?” 
“Mmmm…ark. Mark,” the hottie answers with some hesitation. 
Swiss smiles because it reminds him of those customers that like to make up names for their orders like Obi Wan or Rapunzel, “Mark?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, ca-can we rush this? I’m late for my first day,” the ghoul man stammers out
“You got it!” 
Swiss turns around to fill a cup with drip coffee. Before handing the cup over, he scribbled out a little message on the sleeve, “Good luck” 
“Here you go, on the house,” Swiss slides the coffee across the counter. 
“No, I have to pay,” he insists, fishing for his wallet in his messenger bag. 
“Mark, I’m serious. It’s on the house. Now go before you're even more late,” Swiss shoos him away playfully. 
The day goes on smoothly, but Swiss couldn’t get Mark’s smile out of his mind. 
“Whatcha doin’ there Swissypoo,” Mist pokes Swiss while he’s staring off into the distance as she wraps her apron around her waist. 
“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Swiss tries to play it off. Mist chuckles because she doesn’t believe him, but won’t push it. 
The entrance bells ring announcing the arrival of a customer.  Swiss stands up a little taller, and dusts off his apron. Mist looks between the customer and Swiss. There’s something there, so she hangs back, refilling the caramel sauce squeeze bottle, watching them interact. 
“Hi, welcome back,” Swiss smiles at the man. 
The man in front of him looks almost embarrassed, apologetic, “Hi, I’m- uh, sorry about um earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it, I understand,” he brushes him off. 
“I’ve felt bad all day so I thought I’d come and buy a little celebratory pastry,” the stranger flashes him a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little bit. 
“How did today go?”
“It was actually pretty good, thank you. Can I get a slice of the carrot cake please. Can you make it to go?” 
“Absolutely,” Swiss grabs the slice and places it on a box, scribbling ‘For surviving the day’ on the lid before handing to him, “Here you are.”
“Thank you! I’m Mark, by the way. I know I told you earlier, but I wanted to properly introduce myself.”
“Nice to meet you, Mark. My friends call me Swiss.” Swiss extends his hand for a hand shake and Mark meets his hand, static shocking both of them. 
Mist was right, there was something there. She was definitely going to question Swiss once this guy leaves. 
“What the fuck was that?” Mist pushes Swiss to the back of the house, slapping his arm. 
Laughing, Swiss pushes Mist away by pushing her forehead, “What do you mean?”
“Dude, sparks were literally flying. C’mon spill.” 
“Nope! My shift is over, BYE!”
With that, Swiss takes off his apron, and leaves the shop. Mist is flabbergasted by what just happened. 
Mark came in every morning that week to get coffee before jetting off to work. Everyday Swiss would write a little something on the sleeve of the coffee cup, or on the napkin with his pastry. Mark has never mentioned them, but Swiss is hopeful he saw them. 
It’s Saturday, and he’s not expecting to see Mark, but it’s a nice surprise to see him walk in and take a seat at one of the corner tables. After setting his bag down, he walks up to the counter. 
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Well, hello stranger. Can I get you your usual?” Swiss asks as he’s about to turn around. 
“No, actually. I was wondering if you could make me your favorite drink. I don't usually drink like those fancy coffee drinks, but my TA was giving me shit for always drinking the same thing, so I wanted to explore different caffeinated drinks, I guess, and I didn’t know where to go, so I figured since we kind of have a rapport I could ask you. Oh my goodness, I'm rambling, I'm sorry!” 
Swiss smiles kindly at him, chuckles a bit. “TA? Are you a teacher?” 
“I’m a professor at the local university,” Mark explains. 
“Emeritus Tech? I graduated from there! But yes, why don’t you go sit down, and I'll make you something” 
Mark takes a seat and pulls out his laptop and a book. Swiss returns with a latte. 
“This here is a vanilla latte. Everyone says ‘it's basic,’ but it’s a good beginner coffee drink if you’re just starting to explore the coffee world. You can change the flavoring and the type of milks used. It’s vanilla flavoring, a shot of espresso, and milk with some foam on top,” Mountain lifts an eyebrow at the design on top, “It’s a swan,” Swiss answers his unspoken question, flashing him a smile, “I used oat milk because I find that it gives it a creamier, slightly thicker consistency. Enjoy. I’ll make my rounds.” 
Swiss leaves Mark to his own devices, but he watches him from behind the bar. Mark takes a cautious sip from the mug, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. He didn’t know coffee could taste so good. He just stuck to drip, because he was too scared to order or make different drinks. 
As the afternoon crowd slowly started to leave, Swiss began cleaning around, organizing shelves and restocking books and coffee supplies. Mark’s eyes would often wander to Swiss. He’d catch him dancing, humming to himself, reading the summaries of books before shelving them. Mark was entranced by Swiss’ silly little shenanigans.  
Mark stayed late to finish his lesson plans. Swiss occasionally brings him water, or a sweet treat against Mark’s wishes, but he still eats them. Mark wraps up his plans, grabs his things and leaves, waving goodbye to Swiss. 
Swiss switches off the open sign after staying open an extra hour just for him. He grabs a rag and a bin to clean off the table Mark was sitting at when he finds something scribbled out on a napkin. 
“Thank you for all the notes on my coffee and pastries. Call me -M” with his number written below. 
A giant smile forms on his face, he looks at the note again because he doesn’t believe it real. He’s so happy and excited that his tail unglamours and wags with happiness. 
From across the street, Mark watches as Swiss’ tail wags, admiring the dimples on his face. He’s so beautiful, Mark thinks. 
Swiss finishes closing duties and gives Mark a call after locking the door, to keep him company while he walks home. 
“Hello?” a groggy voice answers 
“It’s Swiss, sorry is this too late? I can call at a different time.” Swiss starts to panic, scared he woke him up. 
“No, no. It’s okay. I was just dozing off on the couch. I- I, thanks for calling, I-” Mark breaks out into a quiet giggle, “Oh this is dumb, but I wanted to hear your voice,” Swiss blushes hearing Mark say that, “Oh, also, you have a cute tail.”
“Wait. You saw that?!” Swiss is shocked. He thought he was alone, or at least, didn't think anyone would be paying attention to him. 
“Sure did, and my name's Mountain, not Mark, and I also have a tail.”
Swiss is relieved by the confirmation that he’s also a ghoul. 
“Mountain… I like it. It suits you.”
They talk as Swiss makes his way home, and late into the night, way beyond their bedtimes, and fall asleep on the call. 
After that phone call, Mountain went to the coffee shop every day before and after work. He’d sit in his usual spot and do some grading, or read a book while waiting for Swiss to get off work. 
Mountain’s become a regular, and the employees start to recognize him and his order, as well as some of his students. The coffee shop has become a secondary office where students stop by just to ask him clarifying questions, or sometimes they’ll set up a meeting to discuss larger topics. 
He’s met Sunny and Mist during the shift overlap, and they sometimes sit with him to keep him company when work is slow. They all know they’re ghouls living amongst humans. 
Sunny loves to discuss books. Keeps him updated on the latest book releases and also customer drama. Mountain is a big time consumer of customer drama. In return, he gossips about his students.
They’ve also discussed hosting some sort of reading or book program in collaboration with the bookshop. Talks about hosting Q&A’s with a variety of subjects have come up. 
On a quiet Friday night, when Swiss’ shift ends, Mountain walks him to his apartment as per the routine now. Once at the entrance, Swiss turns to him and meets his eyes. 
“I want to ask you something,” Swiss starts. Mountain waits for him to continue
“Would you, maybe, want to go out with me?” 
Mount eagerly smiles and nods, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, and if you didn’t do it this weekend, I was going to ask. Yes, Swiss, I’d love to go out with you.” 
“Would you wanna come in? Stay the night perhaps? We can watch a movie, and have some frozen pizza? Neither of us have work tomorrow, and we can sleep in?”
“I-” Mountain starts, but is met with Swiss’ puppy eyes, “I can stay, yes.”
Swiss sighs in relief, grabbing hold of Mountain's hand, guiding him inside the building while rambling on about tonight's plans. Mountain laughs, squeezing Swiss hand a little tighter, sending a little thank you to whatever god made this happen.
Part 2: The Date... coming soon.
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