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#please don’t look at the music sheet it is so wrong lmAo
crowberri · 2 years
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[Pokemon] Fun (or not so fun) fact: When an orca has a collapsed fin, it means that it isn’t healthy.
Guess who didn’t take care of himself when his brother got wooshed to the past <3
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throwaway-yandere · 1 year
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Dendro NA: 101 (Yandere!Alhaitham/Reader)
a/n: “ansy weren’t you going to write faceless!ayato and music composer!tighnari” well yes but things happened so now here we are. I’m dedicating this fic to crying anon since they’re the person that gave me an idea of an "what if Alhaitham had an elf!darling?" after this fic. The beginning reads like an enemies-to-lovers fic with a slice of crack where nothing goes wrong but trust me it’s not lmao
unreliable synopsis: After Alhaitham forged your signature, you're now forced to become the Acting Grand Sage’s assistant. It's even more annoying when he nearly visited your house all drugged up. Seriously, when will he learn to respect his seniors?
CW: yandere themes, noncon touching, aphrodisiacs, possessiveness, so much bickering, and the reader slanders dendro for plot reasons. 
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Pulcinella, The Rooster, came to visit early in the morning.
“Pups, please… Stop turning my apartment upside down and just tell me what you want.”
It was unexpected how the old man barged into your “unconquerable mess of an apartment” with the intent to celebrate your newfound job at the Haravatat. Mayor Pulcinella isn’t your direct grandfather, but he is your grandfather’s brother. The fact that you are connected to him is a well-known secret (as absurd an oxymoron as that may sound) in the College of Engineering and Technology at the Akademiya. Because of the collectivist mentality that characterized your family, every last pointy-eared relative you are aware of is blatantly nosy and annoying. The "mayor" is much more so.
Pulcinella did come to extend his congratulations, with a generous batch of cookies even, but he had an objective in mind. His way of showing that he cares is usually in the form of letters but he stands right in front of you now. You can only imagine how difficult it is for someone in his position to take a leave of absence this far since Port Ormos is so far away from home and it takes days for mail to arrive here.
Your grandfather is obstinate. Terrifying so since you recognize that expression on his face all too well. Although you are unsure of what he needs from you, you do know that you want him out. Immediately.
“Don’t talk to me in that tone, child.” He scowled, jabbing your briefcases with his wooden cane. “I’m not leaving until I find it.”
That "Rooster" moniker belongs to him without a doubt. Your belongings were seized by the elf-like a bird's beak. He prodded the dreadful equation-filled sheets hanging on your wall and snatched a few trinkets on your work table. Good lord. Pulcinella made so much noise that if you weren’t already planning on starting your day, you would’ve been incredibly cranky when he knocked on your door.
“For Her Majesty’s sake– just what are you trying to find, grandpups?”
He turned to look at you.
Not mad, but disappointed– sad, even.
“An engagement ring. Evidence that you’re dating that fool, Alhaitham.”
You groaned.
“Him again?! Motherf—”
Pulcinella quirked his eyebrow at your outburst, “hmm?”
You chuckled nervously, “ah, sorry, I just… It’s nothing.”
No, it was not “nothing.” That bastard ruined a lot of things for you, including your vision. You didn’t want a dendro vision. You were praying for Rex Lapis every night even after his death but somehow being involved with Alhaitham strayed your path to gaining the “grass fertilizer tool” as you loved to call it. Sure, there’s little evidence that he’s the reason behind the fact that you got a dendro vision instead of geo but that doesn’t change the fact that you want to crush him between your palms like a writhe scarab. Especially after he enlisted you as his scribe-disciple without your consent. What a complete scumbag.
Oh, to quit the Akademiya only to be forced to go back again…
But of course, your grandpups don’t know anything about this and you have ZERO intentions of letting him in on your business. If he knows, then ALL of Snezhnayan elves know.
“I’ve heard from your mother that you’ve gone lovesick and left the Akademiya,” Pulcinella spoke in a slow somber tone. “And falling recklessly in love and gaining a dendro vision does not sound like you at all.”
Eww. Lovesick? Hell no.
If it weren’t for this man, you would’ve graduated as a fully pledged civil engineer next year. If he wasn’t such a great scribe, no, forger, your signature wouldn’t be on that damn contract.
That man seriously has no respect for his seniors.
Nevertheless, it was too late to do anything. You just have to accept the consequences of your inaction. Additionally, if you're going to take this "new job," you might as well act as if you adore it.
Hooray! Don’t you love working for Alhaitham? Isn’t it fun to discard your 4 years of studying? Oh, what joy! You definitely did not burn your eyebrows out trying to ace FIFTY Kshahrewar mock tests!!!–
“Talk to me, poppet.” He continued, eyebrows knitted. His wrinkly hands reached to gently hold yours. Suddenly, you remembered that he is still family. That this was the same old major that your young self boasted their miniature construction toys to.
“I’m worried that something might’ve happened. And my dear, health is not the absence of disease or infirmity, it is also–”
“The complete state of physical, mental, AND social wellbeing. Yes. I know, Pups. You nearly forced me to study medicine.” You groaned and palmed your forehead, weak but playful.
He chuckled heartily.
The old man’s rather soft with you compared to his other grandchildren. If he wasn’t, you’d likely find yourself as Il Dottore’s new assistant.
Although most people would find working for a harbinger, especially The Doctor, to be a complete nightmare, you concluded that being Alhaitham's slave was the epitome of "overrated garbage," and you despise the scribe so much you can't even remember his appearance. Sure, Layla’s jealous that you’re essentially set for life by being a scribe assistant but at least Dottore gives his assistants a hefty pay (discounting his crimes against humanity…)
You’re not proud to call Alhaitham your boss. That stupid #093c0d face doesn’t make your 2 million mora salary worth the trouble. He needs to pay for your mental health insurance–
“Are you alright, poppet? You’re looking at me like you would with one of your test slimes.”
You exhaled deeply, “sorry, I suddenly thought of a hex code #093c0d person.”
Pulcinella closed his eyes.
“A dark green shade?”
“That’s right.”
“...”
With an unreadable yet deliberate face, Pulcinella fixed his gaze on you. Your unique perspective on others didn't seem to disturb your grandpups the way it did your parents. He is one of the select few who is aware of how you assign people's personalities through colors. Pulcinella raised his glasses further up before giving a sage-like nod. The moment he crossed his arms, you knew he understood what you were trying to express.
“So it’s a lover’s quarrel.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Wait, what– NO!!! Pups, please stop assuming shit– things!!!”
Never mind— he is SO far off.
Why is he convinced that you’re dating that prick? What the hell did your mom tell him?!
“I heard that, poppet. And do not misunderstand, I think this is a good thing.”
Your uncle-grandfather cupped your cheeks and squished them between his fingers. Perhaps this is what people consider a wholesome grandpa-grandchild dynamic– but social norms should’ve also labeled this as domestic violence. His pinching hurts. Your clipped groans made him grin wider.
“After all, this means that you have seen his flaws and true character. What better way to break a couple up than a genuine argument?”
“PWUUUPS!!!”
Pulcinella pulled his hands away.
“I felt distraught when I heard you have given up your pursuit of civil engineering and chose a career in the Haravatat,” he sighed and took off his hat, holding it against his chest. “I was rooting for you, dear. I had faith in your aspirations. Even Lord Capitano found it upsetting to learn that the future engineer I frequently boasted about had become a lesser Lord Kusanali underling.”
You squirmed and rubbed your cheeks, staring at the ground.
Lord Capitano was not someone you often interacted with, but you knew that he had an eye for talent– and he sought after yours. Perhaps this is your ego talking, but it felt like even he believed you’re best suited for an engineering course too. Other than your grandpups and subsequently his recruit, Ajax, Lord Capitano was one of the Fatuis you respected.
Alhaitham truly crushed your dreams.
“I know, Pups…”
“You know what to do, right?”
You nodded solemnly, before looking him dead in the eye. Pulcinella can see your determination clear as day.
You breathed in.
“I’m going to commit arson.”
He patted your back, smiling.
“That’s my grandchild!”
Pulcinella tip-toed and ruffled your hair.
“Alright, this old man had given up. Just show grandpups where the ring is.”
“Her majesty the Tsaritsa’s sake– I already told you Pups– ALHAITHAM AND I ARE NOT DATING!!!”
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It was an exceptionally hot evening in Sumeru City despite being far from the desert. You should be inside your apartment right now, studying the Dendro Vision book Alhaitham gave you but you’d rather be where you are now. It’s about to get warmer, yet you’d dare argue that both you and master architect Kaveh’s headache can compete with its 38°C average temperature.
“C’mon, please?”
“No, I’m not helping you burn Alhaitham’s house down.”
“What?! Why not?!”
“Damnit, (Y/n)– BECAUSE I LIVE THERE!!!”
“Oh, right.”
You flopped back to your seat, eyes rolling back, deflated.
Kaveh cried out in pain while lowering his head to the table. He somewhat resembled a dried-out raisin. He had a drinking binge the night before, so this isn't because he's not a morning person. Although you expressed regret for knocking on his (Alhaitham's) door, the architect never misses a chance to rant about his housemate. Kaveh's pain wasn't even close to how much he detested Alhaitham. Now here you both are, sitting outside Lambad’s Tavern like morons because you both forgot to bring your wallets.
Not a sight you’d expect from a master-of-all-trades (ex-)engineering student and a genius architect.
“Damn it…” You whined. “What else am I supposed to do now?”
“Await until Focalors passes her judgment,” he answered hoarsely.
In other words: curl up and die, probably.
“Yeah… Yeah, that sounds viable. Let me just go to Fontaine real quick– oh wait, I can’t, because some dumbass scribe paid the corps to keep me from reaching the borders.”
Kaveh chuckled, still caressing his headache, not caring how his messy and unwashed locks covered his eyes. You’d be surprised if he told you he didn’t just get out of bed. He appeared like he was ready to sleep for all eternity, or more accurately, Kaveh’s starting to look eerily similar to Layla. In terms of colors though, he’d still be a #ffda29 and not a #003153.
He sneered, “did the sun always look this bright, powerful, and oh-so hateful?”
“It wouldn’t look like that if you didn’t down the pitcher I left on the table last night, Kaveh.”
You both turned to look at the voice– rather, the abyss. Alhaitham stood behind you. Or at least, you think it’s him.
Okay, here’s the deal: you hate remembering his face.
You handle your memory much like a student would a personal bookshelf– you’ll occasionally take out the information you no longer wish to retain in favor of more useful and relevant ones. As a creature with longevity, an elf should be picky when it comes to memories. You believe your approach is in the same vein as Pulcinella disposing of “less valuable assets’' without hesitation. If there’s no point in having it, why carry the baggage? But there are at least two facts that you can easily recall about Alhaitham: it’s his voice and the color #093c0d.
In other words, he’s just a talking dark green slime in your eyes.
Which he considers a major step up, by the way. You went from ignoring him to recognizing his voice, to associating him with one color. That’s quite a development. A pathetically slow progression, but still a positive one.
“THERE YOU ARE, ALHAITHAM, YOU PRI–”
The man swiftly dodged his slap by crouching down. He honestly didn’t have to put in the effort when Kaveh’s attacks were sluggish.
“–CK! WHY’D YOU LABEL THE ALCOHOL AS WATER?!”
Tons of passersby stared at Kaveh as he flailed around, but they were quick to look away. It’s no longer a secret that he lives with the scribe. Everyone in Sumeru City knows about his tactless antics and none are deaf when it comes to his loud gripes about his housemate. Even so, you went up to him to soothe his worries and restore his reputation because not everyone understands he's not a bad person.
Alhaitham scoffed, glaring.
“I didn’t. The label said "Fire-Water.””
“WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES THAT MAKE?!”
“Fire-water? Oh.”
Your hand flew to your mouth as you connected the two dots.
That beverage from Snezhnaya is notorious for having a high alcohol content and is only known in Mondstadt as the drink Master Ragnvindr forbade exports of. As a quote-unquote "wine connoisseur," you were invited to one of his parties. Fortunately, you were able to warn Diluc of how potent it is firsthand– Kaveh? Not so much.
You snorted.
“Yeah, Kaveh, I hate to take Alhaitham’s side on this but this one is on you, friend.”
The blonde’s eyes widened, betrayed.
“HAH?!”
“Need I remind you that fire-water is an alcoholic beverage, Kaveh.” Alhaitham waved his hand, emphasizing his condescending tone. “Maybe if you listened to me instead of ranting about my work ethic, you would’ve known that I received it as a gift from a Fatui Harbinger.”
Your ears perked up. “From a Harbinger?”
Alhaitham smirked but it was gone as quickly as it came.
“Hmm. I’m certain that you know him, assistant (L/n). His name is Pulcinella,” the scribe said. “He left me a note. He said he wishes that I drink to my heart’s content as a thank-you gift for hiring his grandchild. I wasn’t aware you have a kind grandfather.”
You smiled back, crookedly.
No. No, your uncle-grandfather DEFINITELY wanted to see Alhaitham in pain. He didn’t even bother giving him a bottle– he gave him a fucking leftover pitcher.
Alhaitham took your arm. Unfortunately, he’s taller than you with muscle strength you can’t compete with. You squirmed but resistance was futile. Doesn’t mean you can’t bite his arm off–
“Assistant (L/n)–”
You gritted your teeth. “Don’t touch me, sir.”
Alhaitham paused, processing how much emphasis you put into pronouncing the word “sir.”
“–I’ll be taking you away now.” He looked down on your friend and scoffed. “Kaveh, do try your best to not be a burden to Mx. (L/n) again.”
Kaveh clutched his head, still in pain.
Sorry, Kaveh. That drink and beating headache were not meant for you in the slightest. You made a mental note to make it up to him, but not today. You have a lot on your plate right now.
“Idiot. They’re the one that invited me here!”
“True–”
“I quite frankly don’t care,” Alhaitham spat coldly.
“From now on, refrain from having conversations with my assistant. Unless you’re prepared to face the consequences.”
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“Do you remember the approximate damage multipliers an aggravate reaction causes?”
“Nope.”
“Tch. I just discussed this, I can’t believe you already forgot.”
“You think I forgot? Haha, hell no. I didn’t forget, I just wasn’t paying any attention.”
Alhaitham dragged you down a secluded area in the rainforests with a sword in hand. Quite frankly, you hoped he brought his weapon to kill you, but you’re well aware of what this is about.
This is a lesson straight out of a page of “Dendro Vision Qualifications 101: Normal Attack Patterns.” The Acting Grand Sage thinks that you should have at least enough fighting proficiency for you to start formally working for him. As for you? You think this whole charade is utterly meaningless.
Sometimes, you truly do wish you were born as a rock instead. Maybe then you would be able to perform the “gray-rock method” whenever Alhaitham starts his drivel about dendro visions. You bet you’d make a pretty good tombstone for your dead childhood friend if you were a rock. Being a rock is probably the nicest thing to be. You get to be something created from the Geo element– the element and vision you desired. And not dendro.
Anything but lame old dendro.
This is so stupid. You wanted a geo vision, damn it. What on earth did you do to make Rex Lapis spite you, and what kinda breakthrough did you accomplish to gain the Lesser Lord Kusanali’s favor instead?!
If only you got something that isn’t the same as Alhaitham’s vision. Maybe if you got an electro vision you’d be learning how to brandish a lance with the General Mahamatra instead. Unlike most people, you enjoy being in his prolonged company and dry jokes. You’ve exchanged letters with Cyno multiple times– but your friend’s on-the-spot puns are 10x funnier than the things he writes down. Of course, that’s only because his earnest delivery sells it.
“In this fighting stance, you can perform up to 4 consecutive attacks, dishing out dendro damage approximately every 2 seconds interval–”
You held up your Eye of Perception.
“Bold of you to assume I’ll use this vision.”
“–charge attacks on the other hand require a hefty amount of stami–”
You yawned, halting Alhaitham in the middle of his “lecture.”
There’s a reason why you chose an Eye of Perception, and that’s because, unlike most catalysts, it procures physical damage as well. With someone as petty as you, it’s only natural that you’d brandish a weapon that doesn’t rely too much on dendro reactions.
“Yeah, I’ll just hit the enemy with my catalyst. Like, aim and shoot, or maybe I’ll just go with blunt force. This eye of perception looks like it’s made of metal, it can probably dish out some physical damage–”
Alhaitham shifted forward. Your gentle yet insouciant voice forced him out of his momentum.
“(Y/n).”
“...Yes, sir?”
His gaze sharpened.
“Pay attention.”
You snorted. Was he trying to intimidate you?
You, an elf who lived longer than him? How arrogant. It was becoming clearer why Alhaitham never once had a girlfriend or boyfriend. Or maybe a genuine friend in general. His senior who happens to also be his housemate does not count.
“No thanks.” You laughed to yourself, barely containing your amusement. “I think I’m doing fine.”
“What do you expect will happen if you don’t listen to my instructions? Your unfailing indifference sickens me.” He sheathed his sword back. “Do I have to spell everything out? You’ll get injured in combat. You won’t be able to defend yourself from fungi, eremites, and other enemies on the prowl. All for what? Useless pride? Grow up. Accept that you got a dendro vision and be done with it.”
“Tch…” You know how you feel, but you do not have the strength to say it out loud.
What an impossible task. He’s telling you– the most stubborn person you know– to give up on your goals? Inconceivable. You bet he sees the mediocre majority as nothing more than defective pawns, and you’re well aware you belong in that lowly category.
To him, grief may as well be easy as breathing. For you, years had gone by and you could still hear their voice. The scribe knows nothing about tributes for the dead. 
Your old childhood friend beckons you back to the chasm. His voice comes once the dark rears in, reverbing his desperate pleas for a fitting grave. It’s a voice that twists around your chest like a knife. You can’t get their faces out of your memetic bookshelf, but it’s not as if you’re willing to dispose of them.
You didn’t want a dendro vision. 
You wanted a geo vision to construct mausoleums for your dead friends.
Alhaitham scowled.
“Fine. We’ll resume our lesson next week.”
He bumped into your shoulder as he walked by. For a split second, you’re reminded that your superior had longer eyelashes than you do. And it made the gesture more annoying.
Strange. 
Alhaitham wouldn’t normally let you off so easily…
Maybe he’s busy?
“If you’re so insistent on only utilizing physical attacks, be my guest. Next time, I will not back down a single step.” Alhaitham walked away with heavy feet, stamping the dirt with his heels.
The consequences of your actions began to sink in. You may have lived longer than Alhaitham, but needless to say, he had more experience in combat.
Admittedly, you may have done yourself a disservice by acting out… You huffed.
No, no way.
“What could possibly go wrong? He’s just a feeble scholar!”
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Unsurprisingly, Alhaitham was not, in fact, a feeble scholar.
Thankfully you have the Eye of Perception at your disposal because the moment he found you walking towards Devantaka Mountain the following week, the bastard went for your jugular.
“What the fuck, Alhaitham?!”
You fired a single shot, aimed higher this time knowing that he would attempt to evade. Much like his actions with Kaveh last time, Alhaitham was quick to dodge that projectile. His timing is impeccable as he activated his vision.
#ff0e0e starts blaring in your line of sight. You’ve always trusted these colors— your instincts.
You’re in danger.
“Tch!”
You almost didn’t recognize that it was him. If he wasn’t breathing heavily, you would've mistaken him for an assassin. Alhaitham never made any unnecessary movements. His slashes were not done with the intent of harming you, but shepherding you to an appropriate trap. Your knee scraped against the grass and minuscule rocks. Prioritizing distance over attacks was a wrong move– he’s faster than anticipated. You gasped sharply as the scribe pinned you against a tree trunk–
… His scent caught your attention.
“A cicin mage’s perfume…?” You mumbled, eyes wide.
That didn’t seem right. Their perfume usually doesn’t smell this unpleasant and metallic.
Your ears drooped down as you realized this Alhaitham did not attack because he’s a lunatic, no. That malodorous stench was akin to a grandmother’s bittersweet husk.
This Alhaitham was under the influence of aphrodisiacs, and it is not something you can fault him for.
“What– What on earth happened?”
He twisted your arm slightly, not enough that’ll make you scream but just rough for a tiny yelp–
and that’s how he boldly claimed your lips.
You froze in horror, letting him take advantage of your plight. Alhaitham pulled away, panting slightly.
“F-Fuck…”
Alhaitham moaned as he slipped his tongue back inside. You tried to stop him but you yelped the moment his hand groped your thigh. His breath fanned your flustered skin as he moved to slither his arms around your waist, closing the already small distance between you two.
You weakly pulled back. The rainforest had never felt this humid before.
Something is truly off about his scent.
“L-Let go!!!” You hissed and punched his chest, completely forgetting your catalyst in your panic. “What the hell is wrong with you?!?! Are you out of your fucking mind?!”
He didn’t listen despite your physical protests. Alhaitham disgustingly crooned down and sloppily dabbed wet kisses down your neck. His saliva dripped over his shoulder, coating you in hopes that it would leave his trace.
It felt wrong. You felt dirty– like you were kissing an actual #093c0d slime.
“P-Please…” He whispered, his voice dropping dangerously weak and vulnerable. “H-Help me, (Y/n)…”
Your face flushed as you wiped the saliva that connected you both from your lips.
You’ve never heard Alhaitham beg before.
Is this really him?
His fistful grip on your clothes grew taut as desperation colored his knuckles white. You had never seen Alhaitham lose his cool the way he does now, and the broken sight in his eyes made you uneasy and uncertain.
He looked pathetic.
“Haitham, your…” your hand supported his neck and he hungrily leaned in to feel your touch. “Your heartbeat is loud.”
“I know,” he whimpered.
You bit your lip. You could sense his pulse going faster.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been kissed– or first anything. You’ve had your fair share of “soulmates” and “flings”, but those happened decades ago. Before you were mastering engineering, you were a freelance artist who’d had many affairs with humans and elves alike out of the undiagnosed emptiness that was grief. Up until Faruzan made you start a new leaf, you indulged in numerous vices, including wine and one-night stands. She was the closest a human could hope to understand the loneliness an elf would have.
Both your appearance give the illusion of youth, but your bones are held together by flesh older than this man. She would undoubtedly be angry with you as soon as she learns that you enabled Alhaitham's small rendezvous.
“Alhaitham, I’m more than a decade years older than you–” you squirmed.
“But I want you,” he groaned.
Those words felt so different when he was the one who said them. Nearly sinister.
“I know,” you said, but your voice doesn’t match the confidence you were meant to exude. “But this isn’t you, this is your hormones doing the talking. Where did the cicin mage attack you?”
“Between Pardis Dhyai and Yashna Monument”
“Between WHAT?!” You gawked. “That’s miles away from here!”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does!!!”
You yanked his shirt. It’s thin, yet surprisingly durable. The strength of the fabric is not what made you unnerved, but his stare.
He gazed at you as if you were his lifeline— as if you were the only thing that allowed him to breathe. Alhaitham’s hot breaths were shallow, fanning your face as you took note of how red his face, neck, and ears were. You noticed how he struggled to gulp— struggled to keep his composure. His bedroom eyes had not once diverted their attention away from you.
“It doesn't matter how far I ran. You were the one I wanted to see. You were the face that came to mind after getting poisoned."
You pretended not to hear that.
“Alhaitham, we need to get you to Tighnari.”
“He can’t help me.”
“The forest watcher can most certainly help you more than me.”
“You don’t know that.”
You don't want to hear him talk anymore, to be honest. You're horrified by how weak and inaudible his voice sounded.
“Why did you come to Avidya Forest all the way from there? Why not head straight to the city?”
“So many questions…” He irritably spat. “Just stop talking and kis–”
“I refuse,” you glared. “Why were you heading towards Port Ormos? Did you think I was going to help you get over this mess out of the goodness of my heart?”
Did he forget how much you loathe him?
“No. No, of course not.”
He chuckled, full of self-loathing.
“I know you hate me, (Y/n). I would hate myself too.”
You raised an eyebrow. Of course, he’s self-aware— you just didn’t expect him to say that out loud.
Alhaitham continued, “but I’m not the one at fault here.”
Defeated, he rested his head on your shoulder. To avoid having you look at his expression, Alhaitham cupped your back, running fingers through your scalp so that you may only look forward. His body pressed against yours firmly. There’s no possible way for you not to be wholly aware of how warm he was and how fast his heart was beating. 
It was distracting to know how much the poison affected someone like Alhaitham, whom you thought was damn near untouchable.
Awkwardly, you returned the favor and played with his hair. Alhaitham gasped softly, making you shiver as you realized how sensitive you are to his breathing from this position.
“And who would that be?” You asked quietly. “If your pride won’t let you seek Tighnari’s aid then since you’re here you might as well tell me everything, starting from the very beginning.”
“T-That won’t be necessary.”
“If we want to rule out who your true assailant is, then yes it is,” you answered. “I think this is what you call the process of elimination.”
Suddenly, he pulled away from you with his arms stretched out. Alhaitham still kept you pinned on the tree, but there’s more space for you now to move and see his face. 
Ah, you’ve nearly forgotten again.
Alhaitham has green-orange eyes.
“No need.”
He clicked his tongue.
“It was Pulcinella. Your grandfather sent a cicin mage in an attempt to seduce and assassinate me.”
… Oh.
You should’ve guessed. You really should’ve guessed that he was behind all this.
Instinctively, you tried to cover your mouth from shock, but he quickly grabbed them and pressed them back to the tree behind you again. He tightened his hold once more, making you wince.
“I didn’t mind at first because your grandfather reminded me of my own grandmother,” Alhaitham gritted his teeth. “Pulcinella—”
He bit his bottom lip, his seafoam eyes looking unstable and royally pissed.
“He’s not after me because of my position as the Acting Grand Sage. H-He was merely looking after you. His expression was one I recognized. It's a grandfather's love. I may not show empathy as frequently as my housemate would like, but at least I am conscious of how important family is. I don’t want you to have to arrange your grandparent’s funeral like I did.”
You’re not unaware of who Alhaitham’s grandmother was. At one point, you had befriended her back when she was out on a mission to acquire 1,000 books. To think that you’ll meet her grandson for the first time in college and that you’ll end up in a situation like this… you’re sure she would’ve never condoned any of this. She wouldn’t appreciate that her grandson was trying to fuck the elf that helped her build her small library.
This is wrong. 
Everything about this is wrong. From the age gap to the work power distance– it’s vile– 
You want to vomit.
“So— s-so what did you do?”
“I didn’t want to kill your grandfather in retaliation.”
“Yes, you’ve established that. You don’t usually beat around the bush— go back to being the Alhaitham I know and just get straight to the point, damn it!”
“I ended up tracking all of his people in Sumeru down.”
He chuckled lowly.
Your heart started racing as well. 
If his heart was beating out of excitement, yours were out of a rational fear that you wouldn’t get out of this unscathed and mentally sound.
“It’s laughable how his lackeys were so incompetent. If they listened to my lectures at all, they would’ve known how to defend themselves.”
“What… What the hell are you talking about?” 
There was nowhere to run. You’re trapped unless Alhaitham lets go of both your wrists. Your dilated eyes surveyed the woodland, but you weren't confident that, should the occasion arise, your shaky knees could put some distance between you and the scribe.
“Didn’t you notice? They were stalking us from the moment I was teaching you how to use your vision last week, and likely even before that.”
His face drew near and you strained your neck to hopefully maintain at least a hair of distance between both of your lips.
Alhaitham closed his eyes.
“Did you honestly think I’d postpone our practice due to your mild complaining? Don’t you understand how excruciating it is to be away from you for a week?”
He pressed his forehead against yours.
“But I had to do it. For us.”
“Where… Where were you when you were gone? What did you do to them?”
You didn’t want to ask.
You already know the answer. 
“When will you start thinking before you speak?”
With fears renewed, your body felt small underneath his gaze. He’s not even looking at you— his piercing green eyes weren’t even looking directly at your soul. You turned away and gazed at his left shoulder— shrieking.
Never in your 100+ years of life did you feel so stupid. Only now did you realize that it wasn’t just a cicin mage’s perfume you smelled earlier.
There was blood all over his coat.
“Stop screaming, (Y/n). I’ve finished the job and it’s high time you reward me, wouldn’t you agree?”
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Clementine Kisses
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Chapter Seven of the Through the Scope Series | Chapter Eight
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 5.8K
Chapter Overview: You wake up in a strange bedroom and investigate
TW: smut !! oral (f receiving), f in v, p in v, depictions of breasts but without their size
Notes: now i know this isnt a gif of frankie, but i am the law of the land and i want to use it. okay LMAO we finally made it to the smut hehe i mean i feel like yall knew this was coming tbh,, i havent written it in a while so i might be a bit rusty, but im still pleased with how it turned out. its just so much fun to write. as usual ... my asks are always open & happy reading <3 (oh and listen to lemon boy by cavetown bc it was on repeat while i wrote this chapter)
*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*
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Your head is spinning, but your body is so comfortable. When did your shitty mattress get this soft? Without even having to open your eyes you can tell that the sun is up. You must have forgotten to close the blinds when you got home last night. Wait a second…you don’t remember coming home. Still choosing to keep your eyes shut for fear of seeing a stranger next to you in bed, you hoist the covers up and over your head. Maybe if you just pretend you didn’t do anything stupid last night it will become a reality. 
You inhale deeply, slightly wincing at the throbbing in your head, and your eyes pop open. It may be pitch black under the sheets, but you are starting to see things more clearly. You know this smell. It’s a smell that has haunted the deepest corners of your mind since you first encountered it. Since you first encountered him. It’s musky, but not in a dirty way. It fills your nose and soothes the anxiety you felt creeping its way into your belly. You breathe in deeply again. There were subtle hits of…tire rubber? Well he works in an auto body shop so that checks out.
You decide to hold your breath to see if you can hear anyone breathing softly beside you. A few seconds go by with the only sound being the steady beat of your heart. Hoping that you correctly assumed that you’re alone, you peel back the covers to reveal a foreign sun lit room. You look beside you and breathe a sigh of relief when you see that the right side of the bed has been left undisturbed. As much as you wanted to have sex with him, that was definitely something you wanted to remember. Using your elbows as support, you scoot your body into a sitting position and lean your back against his headboard. Looking at the nightstand beside the bed, you see three things: a glass full of water, two tylenol pills, and a small slip of paper. Without thinking twice you pop the painkillers in your mouth and chase them down with the now room temperature water. Nothing has ever tasted so refreshing. You trade the empty glass for the piece of paper. Aloud you read what it says.
You fell asleep in the truck. I’ll explain everything in the morning. On the couch if you need me. -Frankie
He had drawn a little smiley face next to his name. You laugh quietly to yourself as you set the note back down on the small table. Looking down you see your shoes neatly placed in front of it. There is a shirt you don’t recognize folded and carefully placed on top of them. You reach down and unfold it in your lap. 
“Hmm.” You run your fingers over the faded design on the front of it. “Fleetwood Mac. You have good taste in music, Frankie.” 
After giving the room one final once over to make sure no one is inside you shimmy out of yesterday's shirt and bra and dawn the one left out for you. Then you throw the rest of the covers back, climb out of bed, and take off your jeans. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t have any shorts for you. His shirt comes to rest a few inches above your knees as you start quietly tiptoeing around his room. You know snooping is wrong, but you just can’t help yourself. Your still socked feet guide you over to a thin, vertical bookshelf that sits directly in front of the side of the bed that you slept on. Dust has started to collect on the shelves and the books themselves. You run your fingers across the spines of them until you see one that peaks your interest. 
“What do we have here, Frankie? A Helicopter flying handbook?” 
You slide the heavy duty book from its seemingly perpetual resting place and crack it open. A lot of the pages are dog-eared and highlighted to high heaven. You close it and set it back where you found it. As you look closer you see that the majority of the books he has relate to helicopters, aviation, and the mechanics of flying aircrafts. A pang of sadness and realization shoots through you as you realize that you know so little about him. You know so little about what he did when he was on missions, fuck, you didn’t even know that he knew how to fly. But you want to. You want to know everything there is to know about him whether it be big or small or beautiful or ugly.
Moving over to his dresser, curiosity building, you see a group photo. You pick it up and you mentally name Frankie, Santi, Will, Benny, and who’s that? A gruff looking man smiles and has his arm around your coworker. He appears older than the other men he’s standing with. You’ve never met him or even heard the guys talk about him before. Right as your mind starts to pick apart who the fifth man in the photo could be, the sun reflects off something else on the dresser and catches your eye. You set the photo down and look for the culprit. When you find it, you feel your knees get weak. Sitting on top of a familiar looking post-it note there is a beer bottle cap. You gasp to yourself as you pick it up. This must have been the cap of the beer that he opened for you when you attended the fights with him. You thought you had seen him slip it into his pocket, but you figured that it was just because that was an easier alternative than leaving to throw it away. He saved it as a memento and kept it by your number. Two things that another man would consider trash, he kept and cherished. 
The smell of coffee tickles your nose and you can hear faint clanging coming from the kitchen. You decide that you have been hiding and snooping long enough, so you set the cap down and make your way to the door. The room you were in appears to be on the left side of the hallway. You walk quietly down the hall and notice that the walls are barren. The noises get louder as you close the space between yourself and the kitchen. His house’s layout makes you walk through the living room, which has the front door, before you reach the kitchen. There’s no door when you approach so you’re able to see Frankie engrossed in his task. Well, his back to be more precise. He has on a tired looking t-shirt and some boxers. One side of his hair is sticking up in a way that causes you to stifle a laugh. For a man that slept on the couch last night, he seems to be quite chipper. His low humming only makes that fact more apparent. You get comfortable by leaning against the shared living room and kitchen wall, but it’s short lived. The man in front of you turns around and bursts both of y’alls bubbles of ignorant bliss. 
“Oh!” He’s holding a mug in each hand. “Good morning! Or I guess it’s technically the afternoon now.”
“Good morning to you too.” You follow him when he beckons you to join him at the kitchen table. “So…do I want to know how I ended up here?” 
Frankie watches as you sit down across from him at the table in his shirt. If he’s being honest it makes his cock twitch to see you like this. He is in awe at how beautiful you look after waking up. Sure, your hair is wilder and your mascara is smudged, but fuck if you aren’t a breath of fresh air. He finds himself getting irrationally jealous that his bed was the one that got to hold you while you slept. He wanted to wake up to that face in the morning. Every morning.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He slides a mug over to you and scratches the back of his head.
“If waking up in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in and then being greeted by a cup of coffee is bad, then I don’t ever want to end up in a good looking situation again.” 
His shoulders relax when you say this, as if he was anxiously waiting to see how you would react to the situation. “Well, Pope and I tried to drop you off at your apartment, but you didn’t have your house keys in your tote. So, this was the next best option.”
“Oh my God! I knew it seemed lighter than usual when I left the gym! Damn, Benny for rushing me last night.” 
“Your bag is over on the entryway table if you want it. It’s got your phone.”
“No, I’m alright.” You say before sipping your drink. “I’m in good company.” 
He looks at you bashfully before indulging in his own cup of coffee. You take the cozy silence as an opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s oddly reminiscent of yours. No art, no decorations. Save for a small basket of fruit on his counter. The only room that has given you a glimpse into his mind has been his room. 
“Did you,” He follows your eyes. “Did you want an orange? I can never get around to eating them in time and it would be a shame for them to go to waste.”
“How about we share one? I’ve never been very hungry when I first wake up, but I’ll make an exception.” 
He stands just enough to give himself the extra length to reach the fruit. You take it from him when he offers it and start peeling. When you finish, you split it in half and offer one side to him. 
“I told you that you enjoy taking care of people last night.” You eat one of your citrus slices. 
He tries to look nonchalant as he mirrors your actions. “Maybe there is some sense to all that star stuff you like. Tal vez eres una estrella.”
“And what makes you think I’m a star?” Your stomach feels like it's made of knots. 
“Well…you have this brightness about you.” You can see it in his eyes that he’s struggling with telling you what he's thinking. Not because he doesn’t want to say it, but because he doesn’t know how to. “I seem to see you most often after the sun has already gone down, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know that you’re there when the sun is still up. Sometimes, I get lucky enough to see you during the day.” 
You breathe in a shaky breath as he presses forward in his explanation. 
“I find myself getting sucked into your gravitational pull whenever I’m around you.” 
Both of you have unconsciously started to lean towards each other.
“And you’re…”
“I’m what, Frankie?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” It comes out shakier than you intend.
His eyes crinkle at the corners when he hears your reaction to his confession. “I’ve been in awe of you from the moment I met you and every moment after, mi estrella.” 
“My star.” You repeat what he just called you in spanish. You have to do something to distract from the intense feeling of bawling that suddenly consumes you. 
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He stands up and cups your face in his hands.
“Say you mean it.” You say looking at him.
His deep pools of chestnut trace your face as he stares back at you. “I mean it, mi estrella. Every syllable.”
You stand, his hands still in place, and kiss him. You finally kiss him. There is no way that you could have waited any longer. His lips mold with yours hungrily. As he opens his mouth to you, you can taste coffee and sweet oranges. You can’t help but moan into him when he slides his hands down your body to cup your ass and pull you tight against him. His teeth catch your bottom lip and pull on it gently. He groans when your own hands snake their way up his chest and wrap around his neck. You intertwine your fingers in his thick curls, grateful that you now have unbridled access to them without his cap.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” His chest heaves against your body and you can feel him hardening against your bare leg.
You open your mouth for him again and tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth and you eagerly let him. The sounds he’s making while he palms your ass are sinful. You feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought of the sounds he will make while he fucks you. He scoops you off the ground and your legs wrap around his waist as he sets you down on the table. The cool wood sends a shiver through your body that makes him smile against your lips. 
“I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom.” He sounds like he's in pain. 
“That makes two of us.” You gasp as he starts to work his way down your neck.
Desperate to quell the growing ache in between your legs you grind your core against him and feel him shutter.
“You want this just as badly as I do, huh?” His breath is hot against your skin.
“I want it so bad.” You bring his face back up to yours and sloppily kiss him. “It’s all I can think about.”
His hand answers your prayers when he starts to rub circles on you through your underwear. He swallows your wanton cries with his mouth. You feel him laugh against you and you already know the cause of it.
“You’re so wet for me and I’ve barely laid a finger on you, cariño. How is that?”
He slides your underwear to the side and easily slides in a finger. You have to lay your head on his shoulder as he curves it up inside you and hits that sweet spot.
“I would have-” Your breath is stolen for a moment when one finger hastily becomes two. “I would have let you do this to me at the bar. Would have let you make me come with your fingers while everyone sat around us.” 
“Fuck.” He whines into your hair. “You’re so filthy. Not caring who’s around or who could see what I’m doing to this sweet pussy.” He removes his fingers from inside of you and you whimper at the loss. You watch, mystified, as he places them in his mouth and licks each one clean with greed. “Lay back for me. I need to taste the real thing.”
His eyes are glazed over with lust right now. The ache in between your legs is so painful and you are desperate for reprieve. You immediately do as he asks and lay your back down on the kitchen table. You take the liberty of lifting your shirt up and exposing your breasts to him. The way he is looking at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. His eyes wash over your body and you can’t help but squirm underneath his gaze. He leans down and takes one of them in his mouth while he forcefully cups the other. Your back arches when he catches your nipple between his teeth. Never one to neglect, he works his mouth to the other one before he trails his lips agonizingly slow down your body. He peppers kisses right above the start of your underwear and you can’t help but buck your hips up towards him. 
“Patience is a virtue.” He chides looking up at you through hooded lids.
“Please, Frankie.” You plead with him. You hope he can see how badly you're hurting. “Please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore.” 
He smiles to himself as he shifts his attention to what's right in front of him. His thumbs hook into the fabric and he slowly starts to pull them down.
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
You both freeze and hold your breath to see if the sound was imagined. When its unholy ringing comes again, he rests his forehead on your stomach.
“I’m going to kill them. I’m legitimately going to fucking kill them.” His beard tickles your skin as he speaks. 
“Who-who is it?” You’re trying to catch your breath.
“The guys.” He doesn’t move his head from where he laid it to rest. “They are here to watch the basketball game.”
“Open up, Fish!” Benny yells as he raps on the door. “I know you’re in there, you bastard! Your truck is in the driveway!”
Frankie all but growls as he pulls your underwear back up and helps you sit up straight. If you didn’t know any better you’d think that Benny’s a dead man. You reluctantly hop off the table as Frankie tells them he will be there in a minute. 
“Why don’t I answer it?” You gesture down to his now very strained shorts. “You can change while I handle them.” 
“Oh fuck me.” He rolls his head back.
“That’s what I was trying to do! Now go, go!” 
You push him towards his room and start to head for the door. Two steps in and you feel a strong hand grab your arm and pull your body back. He captures you in a desperate kiss before he releases you. 
“This isn’t finished.” 
“Patience is a virtue, Frankie.” You wink.
He sends you to the door with a spank and heads into his room. You scurry to let everyone in as another round of banging starts.
“Hey guys! Long time no see.” 
They don’t look the least bit shocked to see you greeting them at the door. Pope must have filled them in about the events of last night on the way over. They all greet you with a tender kiss on the cheek and lug their various bags inside the house. You tell them that Frankie is just finishing changing and that he’ll be out shortly. 
“How’d you sleep last night, hermosa?” Pope sets four cases of beer on the kitchen table. The very sight of it causes heat to rise in your belly again.
“Oh umm good? I slept good!”
“Yeah I guess that would explain why your hair looks like it was caught up in a tornado and you have a crazed look in your eye.” Benny snickers. 
“Consequences of last night's actions at the bar.” You shrug leaning back on the sofa.
“There he is!” Will walks up to Frankie as he enters the room and pulls him in for a hug. 
When they break apart his eyes immediately fall on you which causes the rest of the men to follow suit. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how little clothing you have on. 
“Why don’t I put on some pants?” Your cheeks are burning under all the attention and with the knowledge of what almost happened.
“You don’t have too.” Benny offers casually as he lays takeout boxes down on the table. “It’s good practice for when you’re in the ring.” 
“Now I’m definitely going to put on pants.”
You hush the guys as they hoop and holler at you while you head to Frankie’s room in search of yesterday's jeans. If you didn’t know they meant it with love, those would have been the last sounds they uttered.
“She looks mighty relaxed here, Catfish.” Frankie is shocked that Will is the first one to address the elephant in the room. Usually he stays out of silly things like this, but you must be an exception. “Well, except for when Benny decided to poke the hornet's nest with that comment about her hair.” 
“Her hair? What about it?” He looks behind him where you disappeared. “And keep your voices down.”
“Be serious, man.” Pope cracks open a beer. “She looked so frustrated when we walked in. Like she’s a string that’s wound too tight and is this close to snapping.” He emphasizes his point by snapping his own fingers.
“I didn’t think she looked upset.” Benny sounds so confused.
“Not frustrated as in upset, you fuckin’ dolt.” Will looks at his brother with genuine annoyance.
Much to Frankie’s horror he watches in silence as understanding washes over Benny’s face when all the pieces click together in his head.
“Catfish, I’ve never known you to be a man that leaves a woman unsatisfied.” Benny remarks.
“Well that wouldn’t have happened if y’all had come just a little fucking later.” 
“That’s probably my fault.” Pope looks at him sheepishly. “I was anxious to see what unfolded after you dropped me off.” 
Frankie can’t help but chuckle at his friend's excitement. “Nothing ‘unfolded’ after I took you home, hand to God. She was dead to the world when I brought her inside and tucked her in. She didn’t even wake up until 30 minutes before y’all arrived.” 
“Now swear something wasn’t happening while she was awake.” Pope smiles knowing damn well he has Frankie cornered.
“I uhh-”
“Okay I’m presentable looking now.” You walk into the room and immediately notice Will, Santi, and Benny fighting back laughter while Frankie flounders in front of them. “What the fuck have y’all done now?” 
“Just some good ol’ fashion teasin’, hon.” Will waves you over. “You’re going to stay and watch the game with us, right?” 
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” You start.
“You’re not!” Frankie is quick to say.
“Yeah! We want you to hang with us!” Benny voices enthusiastically.
“All these beers aren’t going to drink themselves.” Pope waves his hand dramatically over the booze. “Plus, your car is still at the gym. It looks like you’re stuck with us.” 
“You got me there. I guess it’s only fair that I listen to y’all talk about basketball since y’all listened to me talk about the stars.” 
“Atta girl!” Will pulls you into a side hug while the rest of the boys cheer, Frankie included. 
***
You watch happily on the couch as the men around you take turns yelling at the television and then at each other. Thankfully, you knew how basketball worked so you were more than capable of keeping up with what was going on. You and Frankie sit right next to each other on the couch the entire time. Throughout the game they would all jump up and cheer when their team made a basket, but the second you sat with your legs crossed and had your knee touching Frankie, he happily realized he could better encourage the players from a sitting position. After the game ends and all the food is eaten, you get questioned about how you usually spend your Sundays off.
“It used to be similar to this. When I was living with Robbie back home,” You laugh when you notice the raised eyebrows from Will, Frankie, Pope.
“Robbie is a girl. Calm down y’all.” Benny explains.
“Anyway, when I was living with Robbie back home, we would pile into one of our beds with wine and snacks to watch shitty reality TV. We definitely had our fair share of times yelling choice words at the screen and contestants.” 
You’re met with immediate disbelief that reality TV could invoke those kinds of emotions. Instead of verbally pleading your case, you take the remove from Frankie and use it to open up Hulu. You find your favorite show and your favorite season and hit play. 
“After a single episode y’all will be eating your words.” 
When it ends Will is too angry to speak, Frankie is asking you ‘why that dude with the buzzed hair choose the girl in the yellow bikini over the girl in the pink bikini?”, Benny is fully convinced he would dominate at the show, and Pope is begging to watch the next episode. Completely surprised they all loved it, you play the next episode and snuggle deeper into the cushions. You rest your arm on the back of the couch and play with the ends of Frankie’s curls. Electricity shoots through you each time you feel his body tremble under your soft touch. You all only realize how late it's gotten by the time the season is halfway over. 
“Shit, I gotta be up early tomorrow to talk to some vets at the VA.” Will says as he stands. 
Pope and Benny follow his lead and stretch as they do it. You pat on Frankie’s leg and get up as well. Picking up the trash that has collected on the coffee table, you take it to the kitchen to dispose of it. It doesn’t take Will long to expertly gather up both his things and the men he brought with him. You and Frankie walk them out and send them off with sweet goodbyes and promises of doing this again soon. 
“See you at work tomorrow!” Benny calls back to you from the driveway.
As soon as you close the door, you can feel the energy shift in the room. 
“I thought they would never leave.” His voice is gravelly. 
When you look up at Frankie, he’s already staring down at you with the same look he had in his eyes earlier this afternoon. 
“I could barely hold it together with you teasing me like that. Did you enjoy it? Feeling me suffer under your fingers?”
He’s already got his hands on your hips and is pulling you flush against his body. You let out a low whimper as his mouth finds its home on yours. Your smile against him is answer enough to his question and he nips at your bottom lip in response. 
“Now it’s my turn to make you suffer. To drag it out until you’re begging me to stop.” 
He lifts you off the ground and you find yourself in an all too familiar position with your legs around his waist. You can feel him start to walk somewhere, but you can’t be bothered to look as you suck sweet red marks under his jaw line. Hearing him moan loudly only adds fuel to your fire that was never properly put out earlier. Each time he takes a step, the buckle of his belt rubs against your throbbing clit. You wriggle your body against his as best you can to generate as much friction as possible. When the light behind your eyelids fades, you know exactly where he has taken you. You feel him come to a stop and detach your lips from his neck and admire your work. Those rosy marks will definitely be there in the morning. 
“Hi.” You whisper as you turn your attention to his face. 
“Hi.” He says in the same hushed tone. “I’m going to give you an out. I should have done this this afternoon, but I-I got so caught up in you that I couldn’t think properly. If you don’t want to do this, tell me right now and we can pretend like it never happened. No hard feelings. I just don’t want you to do something you regret tomorrow.”
“Frankie,” You reach up for his hat and throw it to the floor so you can run your hands through his hair. His eyes flutter as you touch him ever so tenderly. “I don’t want an out. I want you.” 
His eyes water ever so slightly at your words. Like it was the first time he had ever been truly craved by another person in his life. It makes your heart crack at the thought. You lean in and capture his lips. They are so pliant against yours. It feels like they were made for you and you alone.
“Do you want me?”
“More than anything.”
“Then show me.”
He tosses you down on the bed and the plush comforter cradles your body. In an instant each of you are ripping off shirts and haphazardly unbuttoning pants. You look up at him, only in your underwear, and take all of him in. His strong arms, broad shoulders, a stomach that you can’t wait to feel rub against you. The lower your eyes go on his body, the harder he gets under his boxers. You squeal when he wraps his hands around your ankles and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. He never breaks eye contact as he kneels down in front of you. He starts slowly at first, kissing you through the fabric barrier. Adorning your thighs with his tongue and soft nips from his teeth. Your quiet moans fill his ears as he finally removes your last stitch of clothing. He chokes at the sight of your weeping cunt before him. You spread your legs wider, beckoning him to take a taste. 
Your cries bounce off the bedroom walls as he buries his face in between your thighs. His tongue works in ways that you never thought possible. You ball up the sheets beside you in your fists as he laps at you relentlessly. Breath stolen with each wicked sound that pours out of his throat. His hand removes itself from your thigh and climbs its way up your writhing body. In an effort to remain tethered to the earth you grab on tighter to him than you thought possible. 
“Fuck, Frankie,” You’re drunk off of him. “You feel so good.”
“And you taste even better.” 
He takes your clit in his mouth and your back arches as two thick fingers glide inside you. If this is his idea of suffering, you wouldn’t mind spending eternity in hell. Your legs start to tremble, but he is unwavering. Drinking you up like you were the first sip of water he has had in years.
“Come for me, mi estrella.”
He holds your hand through your climax. The two of you moaning in unison as you drench him. He doesn’t detach his mouth from you until your body has ceased its shaking. Only when you're struggling to catch your breath, splayed out on the bed, does he retrace his path back up your body with his lips. His beard is glistening with your slick as he lowers himself to kiss you. The taste of you is prominent on his tongue when he slips it into your mouth. You wrap your arms around him and pull the rest of his weight on top of you. You can hear him growl in your ear when you start to move your hips underneath him. 
“Take them off.” You mewl. “I want to feel you. All of you.” 
He pushes off the bed frantically and sheds the last of his clothing. God, he was much bigger than you originally thought. You move your body upwards on the bed so you can lay on a pillow. You watch, mouth watering, as he starts to crawl his way back towards you. He licks his palm and uses it to stoke himself. The profane performance in front of you causes your mind to go blank. He lowers himself in between your legs again and you can feel his tip at your entrance. You can only mutter incomprehensible words as he sinks himself deep inside you. You wrap your arms back around him to keep yourself steady as you feel your walls stretch around his length.
“You’re so fucking tight around me, cariño.” His face is inches from yours. “I’ve got to move, okay?” 
You answer him by bringing your lips up to kiss him. Your whimpers are muffled by his mouth as he sets his pace. Each stroke is more detrimental than the previous one. Your nails bitting into his back only serves to motivate him as he continues. 
“You’re so big. I can feel you everywhere. Frankie.” 
He sits up just enough to allow himself room to rub your clit. His face fluctuates between concentration and bliss. 
“Are you going to come for me again? Come for me all over my cock?” His fingers rub tight circles and you can feel yourself quickly approaching.
You nod in response to him.
“I can’t hear you. Use your words.” He demands.
“Yes,” you pant. “I’m going to come for you. Only for you.” 
Frankie is trying to keep himself from finishing before you do. He wants to make sure you at least finish twice before he even considers it. He brings the hand he was using on you up to his mouth and spits on it before connecting it to you again. The sounds that are coming from you are making it increasingly difficult to stay focused on his task. He looks down at you while he continues to pound into you and work at your clit. Your body gleams with sweat, your chest is heaving, your lips are swollen from him kissing them, and your eyes…your eyes are on him. He falters for a split second under your gaze. No other woman has ever made him nervous in bed the way you have. Never has he worried that he was doing too little or too much. But with you, he wanted everything to be perfect.
Frankie adjusts your hips so he can hit that sweet spot. He knows he found it when your eyes go wide and your jaw goes slack. He doesn’t change a thing about what he is doing. 
“I’m gonna come,” You sob.
You clench down tightly around him as you’re thrust into your second orgasm of the night. It only takes three or four more pumps until he too is consumed by his own pleasure. You feel him spurt hot ropes inside you and sink deeper into the bed. When he’s done, you feel a slight sting as he pulls out. He crawls beside you in the bed and ghosts his lips over yours.
“I’m going to get a towel to clean you up, alright? Are you going to be good here by yourself for a sec?”
“I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to.”
He smiles down at you and kisses you quickly before disappearing into the bathroom. You rest your eyes while the faucet runs faintly in the background. He’s quiet when pads into the bedroom, but you feel the bed creak beside you under his weight. The towel is damp and warm against you. You sigh contentedly as he takes his time in cleaning you up as if he is sad to see the evidence of him being washed clean from your skin. When he finishes, he sets the towel down on a nightstand and pulls the covers over both of you. His arms pull your tired body against his and envelop you in his warmth. 
“That was worth the wait.” You laugh.
“I would definitely say so, but hopefully we won’t have to wait so long for the next time.”
“No, I don’t think we will.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @mashomasho @lilmizmoz @angstylittlepascal @sofiparallel @selflcontrol @adriennemichelle98 }
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horanghoe · 2 years
Text
until it hurts a little less
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MAIN MASTERLIST /// TXT MASTERLIST /// IMAGE MASTERPOST
[UIHALL - PART 2.I HERE] /// [UIHALL - PART 2.II CONTINUED]
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members/group: Beomgyu / TXT --- (mentions of Jon / NCT)
pairing: Hybrid!Beomgyu x Reader (Fem perspective)
genre: angst, fluff, heavy smut, hybrid!txt, minors dni !!
word count: 15.9k
T/W’s : heavy smut with frequent mention of hybrid features; this is purely fiction and not intended to harm. If you don’t like hybrid!au’s, please scroll on, peace and love!! (Pls dm me if you would like a trigger warning added ♡ )
shoutout to my fellow furry loving idiot ~ @raibebe
& A HUGE THANK YOU to all my beta readers ~ @kthpurplesyou / @rairecommends again / @gyukult / @flowerboykun
special cameo shoutout to miss angel ~ @moonctzeny
IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE - This fic has received a mass update since its original publishing date. I hope the edit serves as a greater service to returning readers; and doesn't take away from the original experience felt ♡
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Music to listen to while reading ♡ (in no particular order)
Settle - (BAYNK, Sinead Harnett)
Never Seen You Get So Low - (Aquilo)
Be Like That - (Kane Brown, Swae Lee & Khalid)
Lo Que Siento - (Cuco)
Deja Vu - (Post Malone, Justin Bieber)
Come Over - (Jorja Smith, Popcaan)
Bleu - (agajon, Leonie Barbot)
A Storm on a Summers Day - (Full Crate, Gaidaa)
Happier Than Ever - Edit - (Billie Eilish)
긴 밤 (The Long Night) - (Seori, GIRIBOY)
Lonely - (Chloe x Halle)
Broken Clocks - (SZA)
Good Days - (SZA)
Frank Ocean as a genre, lmao
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Your day had been simply awful.
Awful.
It was like everything that could go wrong in the world, did. And everything that didn’t; sure as hell gave it a try.
The pain started as soon as you woke up.
You were old enough to know when you were due on your period. Even had an app for it - with notifications, etc. But the past month had totally whipped by, and you awoke to ruined pajamas and a deep ache in your lower back. 
Fumbling for your phone, you swiped clumsily at the alarm cutting out the harsh noise before it could offend your ears any further.
Grumbling, you cursed your body for having such a heavy flow out of nowhere, before pulling your corpse-like body out from under the sheets and out into the cold air.
It was just a Friday. One day until the weekend. You could do this.
Willing yourself into positive thinking, you stumbled out of your room and down the hall - straight towards the medicine cupboard to dull the ache in your body and head.
"Jeez! You look like shit. Maybe you should brush your hair before bed, owner."
Almost missing the cat hybrid's words until the pointed end - the prophetical sentence a well-crafted hilt and the end the tip of the sword - you turned around with a sleepy frown and an exasperated sigh, ready to fight without your eyes fully opened.
But he had already disappeared.
Maybe you had imagined it.
Maybe adopting Beomgyu had been one huge, massive dream (or nightmare), and you were due to wake up any minute.
Unfortunately, that was not the case.
The bathroom door in front of you slammed shut, making your body shoot up and back against the hallway wall. Beomgyu's laugh could be heard behind the door; high and lilted, full of mockery.
Clinging to your nightshirt and abdomen you whined softly.
"Beomgyu! That was mean! Get out of there, I need to get ready for work!”
Said idiot snorted from behind the door, thumping his clothes into the washing basket. 
“Sorry, no can do. I’m going out to the cafe today to meet Yeonjun. Wouldn’t want to walk around smelling like you.”
Absolutely at a loss of words, you garbled a noise of frustration and pleading.
“Beomgyu - please - can you at least grab something from the cupboard? I need some … medicine… fuck. Nevermind."
You knew as soon as you had begun to beg, that you had already lost.
The sound of the shower tapped out from behind the very much locked and sealed door, the male humming to himself as you knocked your head against the wood. You curled over at a wave of pain, breathing through it before it subsided.
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The night before, there had been... a disagreement. 
You had tried to initiate some ground rules. 
(Albeit, three months in could be considered a little late for a peace treaty, but it’s the thought that counts, right? Spoiler alert: it didn't make a difference).
The first point was that Beomgyu was to remain second on the pecking list.
He was arrogant. And a brat. But you were willing to work through it to not send him back to the adoption centre. He was a grown-ass cat-man and had the right to his own space; even if the local laws meant he had to have a human on his registry to do that. He was welcome to stay, on the terms that he could temper his ego, even just a little bit.
You had placed the handwritten ‘new-rules list’ in front of him.
He had peered over it with sharp eyes and a scoff, before crossing his arms and leaning back into the dining room chair.
"I'm literally older, bigger and smarter than you, Y/N. What exactly is your point? On all of this? I already work part-time to pay my way - this is a null request."
He had leered at you. Disgustingly smart, seemingly only when he needed to be.
"But - I'm - I'm your owner… Your - I adopted you…"
Beomgyu had howled with laughter, shaking his headbefore his eyes dropped and his gaze bore straight into you. 
"And? Just because you brought me here, signed the leasing papers; doesn’t mean I have to listen to your every beck and call. I’m not your little puppy on a leash, Y/N. Or maybe you’d prefer that. Someone to follow your every order. Maybe you should go back for Mingyu, I’m sure he’d die to get bossed around so much."
It was such a shocking change of aura that you were struck dumb. Sharp feline eyes and rigid tall triangle ears pointed straight at you had made you weak at the knees - the push of dominance, a very unfamiliar feeling. At least where the hybrid was involved.
He had always edged around your limitations but had never directly opposed you before.
At a lack of words, you had withdrawn the list. Shoving it into a kitchen drawer and trying your very best to avoid the emotions swimming in your lungs. Unsure whether to evict yourself or your anger via a punch straight into his - annoyingly charming, handsome, clean, frustrating, stupidly beautiful - face.
The rain had been relentless all week, and it had only seemed to add to your misery after defeat had been admitted. 
You sent yourself to sleep with a heavy head full of thoughts and a heart full of frustration. Sleeping through the loud music he played through the TV speakers. Fighting the occasional wakes from flashes of lightning and the thought of work looming over your next day.
Your sleep was troubled, at best.
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It seems that last night's confrontation had only made him more irate.
And you knew it was stupid - knew it was mean and entirely selfish - but you couldn't stop the spike of emotions in the apprehension of a very long office shift.
Thoughts of emails, processing paperwork and phone calls and attending meetings; all flooded your mind's eye until you lashed out your frustration at the selfish idiot behind the bathroom door.
You knew he didn’t deserve it, but it sort of just happened before you could stop it.
Your fist solidly thumped against the door, with more strength than Beomgyu had ever expected to hear from you. You had never lashed out. So, in the comfort of the shower, he flinched harshly, bating his breath. 
Were you finally going to send him back? None of his ‘owners’ had ever lasted this long. He considered you more of an equal, but that uncertainty was like murky waters that left him too scared to test fate.
Considering the fact he fought bad types of hierarchy with the fervour of a forest fire; he was insufferable towards your lax rules around the flat.
And he would bite on purpose, just for some attention.
But, weirdly, he liked you. You were his opposite - disgustingly happy and optimistic. Buying him gifts when all he knew was hand-downs. Taking his bad behaviour as it came. That’s why your words dug deep into his psyche, deeper than he wanted. 
"God, you're insufferable! It's my flat! I brought you back here, pay for your shit! And you're the worst hybrid I've ever met! Maybe it would be a good idea to send you back since you keep fucking suggesting it!!"
Beomgyu closed off the shower. Breathing heavily as he quickly dried himself off. He needed to get away from you and fast before he said something he would regret. 
The door snapped open.
You realised your mistake as soon as the male stepped out from behind the door, shoving past your body and down the hall.
The look he had given you was as sharp as any knife. A pure scowl that was full of all the discontentment in the world. Piercing your lungs and squeezing your guts into a flood of guilt.
"I-I'm sorry - I didn't mean that - I just -"
You tried to call out to him; before his bedroom door slammed tightly shut.
As you showered, you considered the feeling sitting heavy inside of your chest. Empty and aching.
You - you didn't even like him, so why the hell did you feel so bad about confrontation when it came to Beomgyu? You had always bitten your tongue at his snide remarks, the poking. But you just couldn’t do it today.
You didn't even have much time to consider it. The second of your third alarms rang out, tapping your phone with a hurriedly dried hand to quickly cut it off before placing your forehead on the cold shower tiles.
It could only go up from here, right?
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Your car wouldn't turn on.
Thrusting the key forward; one, two, three times. Before releasing a small cry and shaking the wheel in desperation.
"Why? Why me?! Today, of all days!! I swear, I'm cursed by this stupid black cat! Handsome fucking - cat boy! Stupid - argh!"
To anyone outside of the car... well they may have called the police.
The small vehicle rocked as you yelled into the (somewhat) private space. Each shout was permeated by the aggressive turning of your keys against the very dead ignition - probably doing more harm than good. 
Eventually, you pulled back to slump against the seat, admitting yet another defeat.
Reaching for your phone, you dialed the first number you could think of.
"Kun! Oh my god, thank you for picking up. Please, I need to ask a massive favour -"
In reaction to your rushed voice, Kun, your friend of maybe ten years or so, pulled the breaks on the conversation. He knew something was up, simply by you calling him instead of texting.
Who even does that nowadays?
"Woaahhhh there Y/N, good morning - what's up? Did something happen?"
"Yeah - yeah and no, actually. The issue is that nothing is happening... My car won't start - Beomgyu - and then - I don't - it’s all just going wrong, Kun. Sending a friendly SOS. Very much won’t be making it into work without your help."
The light laughter from across the phone pulled your migraine tighter across your head, but you were at least comforted by his silent support.
"You need me to come and pick you up?"
He asked calmly. Ever the rock in a flowing storm. Speaking of; a gust of wind battered the rain against your windshield enough to make you flinch.
"God - yes, yes please! Then we'll both make the briefing! Wet, but on time… at least."
Kun chuckled, confirming your location before hanging up.
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The two of you made it into the briefing, barely on time.
Running through the halls in the mandatory but entirely stupid low heels. Cursing every God, Demon and Spirit on Earth for your luck today.
Upon arriving at the office’s car park, the storm outside only seemed to match your inner emotions. It welled, swirled, and looked entirely miserable but angry at the same time, with sharp changes of winds, and heavy downpour matching the ache at your core. You had totally forgotten to bring extra pain medication - and didn’t have the heart to ask Kun.
You and Kun had dashed out from his large Jeep to skid across the car park.
Obviously, your umbrella broke immediately.
But it hurt less as Kun hurried you in, taking the metal cage from you with bubbly laughter and throwing the metal immediately in the trash behind reception, pushing you through the doors to avoid the hawk-like receptionists.
"Jeez, I mean this as your close friend Y/N, but you might want to go clean up -"
Peering at yourself in the shiny plastic noticeboard, you grimaced.
Nodding at the wisdom of your best friend and immediately dashing to the women's bathroom to dab yourself with tissue. Contorting your damp clothes under the hand dryer, and simply begging for the day to get better.
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It was within the first 15 minutes of the official meeting that you realised you had forgotten breakfast.
Some people could go without. You were not one of those people on a good day, and with today going the way it was - ah. The first rumble. 
Like a beast had just made its way into the quiet room and stomped on the table, demanding 'hear me! I am hunger!'.
You slinked down into your chair, positively embarrassed.
Across from you, a particular Johnny Suh smirked in knowing. He reached forward to tap at his half-closed laptop before a ping made itself known on your own laptop messaging system.
He nodded towards it, before turning his gaze in faux concentration to the projected screen upfront.
Groaning internally at the office hotshot noticing you for all the wrong reasons; you pulled your PC onto your lap, slapping the mute button and - pulling your open coffee cup onto the ground with your momentum.
The one Kun had shoved into your hands outside of the meeting room.
The one he had instructed you to keep a lid on, like your parent.
The men around you whipped their heads on a swivel to see the source of the noise.
The feeling of absolute dread and humiliation washed over you like a cold sweat. What you wouldn’t do to have the earth swallow you whole; bending down to pick up the half-empty cup and release a pent breath.
The guest speaker at the front cleared his throat. Continuing the meeting with enough decorum to exchange a nod with you.
Well, at least the coffee hadn’t - oh. Nevermind.
The hot liquid hitting your sleeve made you jolt, the last of the liquid spilling from the cup and into your upper forearm. You withheld a squeal - only for your face to flush and the cup to hit the floor all over again.
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As soon as you hit the third hour of your workday - 11 pm sharp - your phone buzzed from within your bag. A flurry of messages hit your device enough to distract you from the current email draft.
Idiot Feline (Beomgyu) -  4 new messages
Sighing, you pulled the phone fully onto your desk to open it.
- I’m going out to the cafe to see yeonjun
- me and the band will be fucking around for a few hours after. not really sure for how long
- you left your house keys in the kitchen
- text me and I might be able to drop the keys off. or come find me. bye
You’re not sure why, or how, but the dull-sharp tone of Beomgyu’s messages really hit harder than usual today. Maybe it was your hormones, but it hurt to read such an empty message. 
The guilt in your stomach twisted into a ghostly kind of pain.
Why should he even say hi? Why should he care how your day was going? After saying what you did to him this morning, his lack of compassion towards your reply was mostly expected.
- ah - thanks for letting me know… I finish at five today - don’t suppose you could get me from work? It would be really appreciated…car broke, had to get someone to drop me in…
His response was immediate. The blue dots flashed up and fizzled out in an angry wave.
- shame. nope, sorry. like I said - we’re practising later. would probably miss your calls/the time anyways. break a window or something, since you’re so big and clever. 
You sighed, choosing not to text back.
Leaning forward to flop onto your desk. Closing your eyes - if only for a moment.
Taking a few deep breaths, the bags under your eyes began to feel heavier. The ache in your back just beginning to settle.
But the peace was momentary.
You were at work. There were phone calls to take. Work to be done, and deadlines to be met. Within this soulless shell of an office hall, you could at least ignore the storm outside for a little while.
Basking instead, in the aggressively white installation lights.
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Your phone was dead.
Of course, it was. Why wouldn’t it be? 
Crying out loud in the staffroom, you willed the swelling of tears back down your throat like a python wrestling to escape your grip. 
The door opened, and a familiar - and not so unwanted person - stepped inside.
Local water-tank fuck-boy, Sir Johnny Suh. 
“Oh - hey Jon. What is it with you and catching me at bad moments today, huh?”
Quickly swiping at your cheeks in case of any escapee tears - you laughed through a sniffle.
Jon sat down opposite you. The large white table reflected his handsome face, but his smile was a lot kinder than usual. He dragged the chair under his legs before laughing and placing a lunchbox on the table.
Huh. That was very - domesticated, for him. You didn’t mean to judge, but he always struck you as more of a pot-noodle kind of guy. Not that there’s anything wrong with pot noodles.
“Hey, Y/N. Not sure, I just have this way with people, sometimes, I guess.”
His smile breached his eyes as he nodded towards your one folded sleeve. Pulling out a fork to prod at - okay, this was getting a little odd. A salad? In a cutesy little pre-made box? That was totally left field from what you were expecting.
“You okay? Didn’t burn your arm or anything?” 
His voice brought you back into the room. You shook your head sheepishly, brandishing your arm until he nodded. He was a little - awkward when caught alone, it seemed.
“No, just clumsy today for some reason. One of those days.”
Jon released a sound of understanding.
“Ah - gotcha. Bit of a shit show?”
You pulled back, feeling weirdly comfortable around the guy you had avoided for quite some time. Laughing weakly you nodded, placing your phone down on top of your laptop to massage your temples.
“Yeah - yeah you could say that. Car broke down, my phone just died, and I’ve been typing up an endless report.”
The two of you were oddly compatible, it seemed.
At least, he made you laugh for the first time since 8 am this morning. And that was pure gold. You told him about your morning, while he revealed some details about his life. He came here from America and had a cool family. No partner, but had a cat hybrid called Angel. Cute name.
Eventually, Johnny nodded towards your phone.
“Hey - that’s an old model, right?”
You pulled your spine up straight with a nod, about to explain why you hadn’t been able to buy a new one after adopting Beomgyu before he nodded.
“If you want - you totally don’t have to - I have a charger in my car that’s compatible with that port? I don’t mind taking you as far as the hybrid clinic if you want?”
You almost choked on your coffee (again), wiping your mouth to nod enthusiastically.
“Oh my God - you’re actually kidding me? Yes, please, that would be amazing - but wait, isn’t that the opposite way to where you live? I can ask Kun -”
Jon laughed kindly, shaking his head with a shrug.
“No, it’s totally chill, it’s fine. I need to get Angel from the clinic anyways. That’s on the way to yours, with a slight detour. She’s working part-time there, so, yeah. No worries.”
At his slight wink, you grimaced. You hadn’t been flirted with in years, and it was telling.
He laughed at your expression before you blurted an explanation to avoid offence. But he brushed it off, enamoured by your honesty.
It was different - and he liked different.
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You managed to survive the rest of the day relatively well.
At least you had thought - you sat snug in the back of Johnny’s lush car, charger stretching from the centre of the vehicle console to your phone. 
Leaving it to charge while you chatted with Jon on the twenty-minute journey, until a message dinged on your phone.
Kun - 1 new message
- Idiot !! You left your computer on !!!! And your emails are wide open !!!! Hope you didn’t have anything important on there, with the 12 pm forced shutdown and everything. I at least locked it for you. Lots of love, shit for brains. Call me ~
The laughing emoji at the end of the sentence oddly, hauntingly, took your mind back to Beomgyu so early that morning. Or maybe it was the initial ‘idiot’. The feline had claimed that word in your mind, annoyingly. Every time you read it you heard his stupid voice.
Being around Jon - had been the only time in the day where things had actually worked out.
But it seemed like his luck was wearing off. 
Groaning, you thumped your head back against the headrest, sliding down the seat. The leather immediately seemed more uncomfortable than before.
Jon laughed softly before peering at you in the inside mirror.
“What? What’s happening now?”
Something about him asking. Something about him taking the time to care. It struck up that deep aching feeling in your gut once more, pushing you to take a few seconds with your eyes closed before releasing a held breath.
“My report - It’s gone. I don’t - I didn’t save it, literally any of it because I was in such a rush to go - I don’t… I’m gonna be in so much shit…” 
You forced yourself to clip your voice before you started to sob in the back of the hot man’s car. Dipping your head and masking your face by massaging your skull.
“Y/N - I’m so sorry. That’s so shit. I’ll put in a word for you - honestly, it happens to the best of us. I’m sure they’ll understand!”
Johnny’s attempts at comforting you were… futile. 
He didn’t know you.
He didn't know the importance of your document. Nor the time sensitivity. But you were too tired to argue, and too emotionally strung to fully explain. You knew you were homebound to an arrogant boy and journeying through the downpour was nothing but fodder for longing. Longing for it all to stop, so you could simply catch a breath.
Just one day. A few more hours. The weekend was within eyesight.
Defeated once more, you simply nodded.
The next ten or so minutes passed slowly. For the first time in days, the rain was a light drizzle. And the sun was trying its damndest to make an appearance.
The inside of Jon's car smelt like - well, him. A foreign cologne mixed with new-car leather. It was sort of nice. But also very unfamiliar. 
You were left feeling alone; in a car, you never belonged in.
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Making it to the clinic, Johnny’s companion jogged out to meet your vehicle at the curb.
You were driven down the next motorway before Jon pulled off to let you out. He felt a little mean and apologised profusely, but you shushed him immediately.
Honestly - you were kind of happy to get out of the car.
Jon’s hybrid was lovely. Truly; an Angel. 
A cat hybrid whose tawny brown fur matched her pulled-back, soft-looking hair. She was pretty, very tall, and had a delicate, twinkling accent. And you got to see a different side to Jon too, if only for a moment. 
But that wasn’t what you had noticed, or been shocked by the most, within your brief exchange. You were shocked by her mannerisms.
You understood that every hybrid worked a little differently - but the characteristics were usually the same across the board. The innate, animalistic instincts, that is. But you hadn’t seen a lot of these behaviours before. Something was… off.
As soon as Angel had entered the car, she emitted a strong purr at Johnny’s side hug. Pulling away to quickly scan you before deciding you were trustworthy; smiles and greetings were exchanged.
Beomgyu… had never purred around you.
Come to think of it - Beomgyu had never even shown you his tail.
Angel seemed to groom hers out of habit, the limb resting on her lap as she smoothed and unknotted the fur. 
And her ears - Beomgyu always tried to hide his in his messy emo-looking mullet. Or at least, that’s what you came to presume; ogling at the way Angel’s seemed to flick and move about so freely.
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Exiting the car, you took the break in the downpour to start quickly walking home. Pushing through the ache in your thighs to cut the distance by as much dryness as possible.
It wasn’t until you tugged your bag tightly over your shoulder that you realised you had forgotten your phone on Johnny’s centre console, charger still inserted.
What the fuck was going on with you today?
You couldn’t walk straight, couldn’t keep your emotions in check, couldn’t breathe as you fought the tears blurring your eyes. A slurry of grief slamming into you like a falling brick wall.
Just another straw on your back.
A stray droplet of moisture hit your nose. Your forehead. Your cheek.
What started as a light drizzle, soon picked up into relentless rain. It took less than a minute, and your skin was already wet to the touch.
You tugged your puffy black hood even tighter around your head. Lungs burning at the effort to not sob pathetically into the middle of the street. Your feet hurt. You were sopping wet. And you had a twenty-minute walk ahead of you, into the outskirts of town.
A soft gust of wind forced you to look away, tucking your chin into the coat even further. When something struck you. The inner lining of the coat smelt familiar - yet, different from your own perfume.
This - wasn’t even your coat?
What? How was that even possible? Did you pick the wrong one up from work?
Confused, you swiped your wet face with your wet sleeve, tugging at the collar until you revealed the inner tag on the side of the hood.
‘Beomgyu’ It read, in neat black sharpie.
Confused. Alone. Shivering, and enveloped by the aura of someone who hated you. 
You sort of forgot how to exist for a step or two.
You stopped, and turned to look up and down the empty country road as you considered the bus stop shelter in front of you. It was somewhere past 6 pm, and the autumn sun was on its fast descent into the darkness.
But you needed to stop. Just - just for a moment, a short while. You couldn’t take it anymore. Tired, and lonely. Surrounded by bustling trees and large splatters of liquid splooshing against rivers in the street. 
Following the stream up the slight hill by the side of the road, you approached the last dimly lit bus stop before your house. The lighthouse in your washed-up storm. Meekly entering to see nobody present. You crumbled onto the seat inside of the shelter. You were torn between ripping your coat off, taking your shoes off or simply not moving.
Choosing the latter, you took a moment to release some of the tears in debt from the night before. So troubled by something you wanted to forget. Such a stupid, stupid thing to be upset over.
You considered every step of your day. Everything you could have avoided, changed. It was your fault, your mind yelled. You chose bad luck by adopting a black cat, right? No - you argued mentally - you were the issue. Not the person in your home, nor the superstitions.
Everything bad was down to your decisions, and it would be you who had to pick up the pieces. Alone.
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Pulling your body and thrown off items up from the refuge, you followed the street lights of the familiar home-bound path. Numb to the lashing of wind, the coldness of the night seeped into your soul and the jittering of your teeth was violently dimmed by the sound of mother nature's passionate winds.
The house was in sight.
With bare feet - coat and shoes in hand - you continued your slow and defeated pace towards the building.
You almost dreaded entering - the lights inside all switched on alerting you to Beomgyu’s presence - even considered turning away.
But without a phone - your money all on contactless - no keys, and in this state.
Where else could you go?
Stepping into the house entryway, you took a moment to wipe your face.
You weren’t even sure if you were crying anymore. It could have been the rain.
You were dissociative as you knocked weakly at the door. Expecting no answer. You wouldn’t blame him for leaving you outside. It was your fault your day had ended up like this, anyways.
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Beomgyu had been trying to reach you for hours.
You never ignored his texts - and for a while, the calls didn’t go through to dial.
But after a good twenty attempts, the call finally went through.
An unfamiliar voice answered. A male colleague. Johnny. 
Beomgyu couldn’t help but prickle - this being the last person you had supposedly been in contact with. And as much as he had no right to want you back after being nothing but a nuisance - god, he couldn’t think about you with another man.
After the first hour, he ran circles. Entirely triggered by the ordeal. It took him to his deepest darkest fears trapped inside, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He couldn’t let himself not care. Maybe he had pushed you too far? Had you abandoned him? Did you hate him enough to leave, and never come back? Had he truly hurt you?
He was an idiot. A mean, selfish, stubborn feline. But God, he was still part human. And it pained him to think of you stranded and potentially swept away by the storm raging outside. He would take a screaming match over this situation, any day.
He couldn’t leave the house - since you didn’t have a key. And he had no neighbours to leave the key to. The other half of the flat is vacant, and Beomgyu is untrusting of strangers. He called his older friend, heart racing as he considered calling the police. You were so - small, and kind - what if someone had taken you?
“Hey, hey, hey, cool off kiddo. I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she found a lift or something? It’s not too late, don’t panic just yet. She could be walking home.”
Yeonjun had offered over the phone call, shocked by the panic in his friend's voice. It was rare for him to worry about someone so much. The last time he saw Beomgyu so distraught was the last time he was taken back to the adoption centre.
Three years ago, after his owner’s boyfriend fought him over nothing but faux dominance within the home. He was left scared and scarred. Doubting of strangers and prickly to kindness. With that morning being the only time you had ever shouted at him - he was scared of the worst-case scenario. 
“You guys had an argument this morning, right? Maybe she went to a friend’s place to cool off. Y’know, like you came round mine today? Give it an hour Gyu. If she doesn’t turn up before eight, we’ll get the boys to help find her. She’s probably fine, I promise.”
The elder fox hybrid did his best to calm him before he had to go. Leaving Beomgyu to sit anxiously in the silent apartment. Fiddling with his hands, pacing. He just wanted you home.
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Around 7 pm was when a weak knock hit the thick wooden front door.
Beomgyu practically leapt from his place on the sofa, padding out to the hallway. Skidding around the corner to reach for the handle and lock, to pull simultaneously. 
Not even taking a moment to compose himself, he pulled the heavy door open to see you standing there.
Your makeup had streaked down your face. Hair matted. Body sopping wet.
He could hear your erratic heartbeat pressing through your thin fabric, despite the whipping winds whistling against the buildings.
He could smell the hormones of sadness and fear rolling off of you in waves; like a tsunami flooding the hall.
You were barefoot - and somewhere between your bottom lip wobbling and your shivering body holding his coat, he couldn’t help the anger that washed over him.
For what felt like a millennium, the two of you stood like two rangers, awaiting the other to draw their weapons first. In reality, the time elapsed was less than a few seconds.
Ultimately, Beomgyu was the first to shoot. And he aimed well.
”You - fucking idiot Y/N - would it kill you to be more careful?! Jesus, get inside -”
His large hand gripped at your elbow, pulling you in and past his body in the thin space available.
“Where were you?! It doesn’t take that fucking long to walk from the highway - you’ve been gone for hours!”
"Y-Your c-coat-t -" You began to apologise, teeth jittering from the cold.
The door slammed shut behind you, Beomgyu snatching his coat from your grip, taking your shoes, and throwing them at the doorway behind his legs.
Anger is a secondary emotion to sadness, and fear.
He had felt both today, and he was struggling to temper himself. 
You tried your best not to cry. Humiliated, and at a loss. Backed up against the cold exposed brick wall.
“Why the fuck did you take my coat?! It’s not even waterproof Y/N - seriously, are you trying to get ill? Is that what you want? To get sick? To get hospitalised because you’re so fucking forgetful? Because you take joy in other people worrying about you?!”
You stifled a whimper, tucking your head down as you shrugged. Gripping at your icy skin.
Beomgyu’s ears flicked up out of his long hair, aching to hear the sounds coming from you. He was stunned for a moment. They aimed at your dipped head and the way you swiped aggressively at your weathered skin. The moving water on your cheeks - they were tears. 
The emotion in his voice ripped through you, water pooling at your feet as you trembled. You were so overwhelmed - couldn’t speak, couldn’t even look at him. Closing your eyes you flinched at the sound of him punching at the wall behind you. He didn’t want to scare you but had to express his twisted emotions somehow.
“Please, please, please can you try to pay a little more attention to things, so I don’t have to worry about your safety all the goddamn time? Shit, Y/N, what if I wasn’t here? Who - who would have come to find you? Nobody Y/N!  Don’t do that shit to me ever, ever again! What if you had been taken - or - or hurt in the storm?! I was ready to get the boys for fuck sa-”
Your eyes were pressed shut, hands reaching up to show your palms in defence.
“I-I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry for making you worry. But please stop shouting at me, I - I’m so tired, Beomgyu. A-and I’ve had such a s-shit day… P-please… Just stop shouting, I can’t take it anymore…”
The sore heaviness of your words cut short Beomgyu’s breathing pattern. The silence in the hall became so thick you could slice it. The only sound coming from your jittering teeth. 
Something painful bloomed in Beomgyu’s chest.
Frowning in an effort not to cry, he let out a sound of desperation. In the most gentle movement you had ever experienced, Beomgyu stepped forward to carefully cup your face.
“You - you pretty idiot, Y/N.”
His warm palms covered your jaw, pushing the hair out of your face before gently kissing your forehead. His body drew closer as he choked up. Adam's apple bobbing as he pulled you into his chest for a tight squeeze. It sent you for a spin, eyes bleary and unfocused as he pulled you back to the wall by the shoulders, face irrevocably close to your own.
“P-pretty -?” You whimpered, a little lost. 
“You might be a forgetful clutz, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see how hard you try… Jeez, Y/N, I've never been more worried about someone in my entire life. You’re so beautiful, but - God, such an idiot. Don’t scare me like that ever, ever again. Shit -”
The world kind of stopped spinning for a moment, when Beomgyu showed you how much he truly did care.
A shaky hand tilted your head back, to place a kiss on your lips.
It was pressed. Slow, heavy. Weakly, you gripped his shirt. He could feel your heart pound against his fingertips through your pulse; your mixed scents washing over him in an unknown shiver.
His lips warmed your cold ones, pulling away to wipe at his own face. He was crying. For you.
You reached cold fingertips up to his cheek to wipe them - it made the area wetter than before and did little to help, but he smiled, laughing softly.
Shaking his head, Beomgyu pushed you back against the wall, peppering your lips with quick anxious kisses until his mouth stayed long enough that his tongue danced with your own. 
Truly, he was just happy to be able to hold you.
He gripped at your thighs; pulling them up around his waist to press you against the wall in one swift motion, securing you with his hips.
Heavy kisses were pressed against your neck and jaw, as hot tears slipped over your cheeks. 
Small, sharp canines nipped gently at the soft skin of your collarbone. Before kissing open-mouthed love bites against your throat. So deliberate, careful and passionate.
You considered never leaving, as his hands dutifully held you against his body. Head tipping back as more and more waves of emotion started to flood out, now that the plug had finally been pulled. 
"Why are you so upset, Y/N?" The feline asked gently. Pulling away to press a feather-light kiss to your lips. He watched the way your face pinched, struggling to form an answer. Noting your white knuckles from the grip of the warm fabric at his shoulders.
“I know it’s not just the storm.” He whispered. “And I know it can’t be totally down to your hormones.”
Beomgyu could feel it in his gut, smell it on your skin; the way you ached about something even harsher than getting caught in the rain. “Tell me.” He pushed, gently coaxing you to open up to him.
“I won’t leave you alone until you do.” Each kiss to your body proved to press the seam of pain apart until it ripped suddenly; revealing the anguish tucked neatly underneath.
Unable to speak, you carded your hands into the back of Beomgyu’s hair, heart painfully beating at pace with the butterflies sparking up a fire in your belly.
He paused for a moment. Dipping his head to your shoulder as your body scrunched up against his torso, tightly, before you unleashed an ugly bubbly, cry. He allowed you to push your fingers up and through his hair, pulling him against you. Enveloped in security. Boards against your shoulders weakened by the weight but withstanding the push.
He was warm, and smelt like home. And you never wanted to let go.
“I’m so sorry.” You whimpered, a sob ripping through you. 
“I-I’m a really awful person, and I can’t seem to get anything r-right. My car broke down, m-my phone died, I burnt myself, f-fucked up at work. And I've been in s-s-so much pain - and so, so hungry - all f-freaking day. My favourite work blouse is ruined and I just - I'm s-so sorry, sorry that I'm so useless, that I forget th-things a-and I drop things, I get tired, and th-then I shout -”
Beomgyu, surprised even at himself, emitted a deep, stomach-rumbling purr.
He pressed his lips to the nape of your neck one last time, before relenting the weighty affection to instead rub his nose up against the curve of your jaw. Purring gently through pursed lips.
He considered how your unhappiness had made his guts churn inside out; how his mood changed by proxy of your unhappiness. And he realised he had become vexed by your sudden lack of vibrancy.
Seeing you, his person, so upset; pulled a piece of his heart apart.
Weak at the knees to your pleading, your need to be comforted. Even if that wasn’t what you were verbally saying, he understood. Understood the feeling of breaking. But unlike what he had suffered, Beomgyu wasn’t prepared to let you go through this alone.
"I don't - I can't even d-deal with myself anymore - I don't - I'm so tired B-Beomgyu that I can't - I won't -"
Beomgyu shushed you quietly, rubbing his nose against your damp cheek. He stayed silent as he let you cry into the open air. Your voice tangled with the garble of pure emotion and jittering bones. Unable to do more than choke for breath and release bubbling rounds of tears.
Beomgyu had never scented anyone before. Avoided it out of shyness.
But the emotion that washed over him was like a happy full-body buzz at you slowly, slowly, starting to smell familiar again. He resisted the push inside of his gut, at least until you were able to truly advocate for your body.
The rain dampened the smell of your clothes, even weakened the smell of Johnny’s cologne and the aroma of the wet electric-fuelled storm. But his gut compelled him to go further. Pupils dilating at the marks blooming against your cold skin. Ears still firmly folded back against his hair as he pulled back to see your face.
You were so distressed.
“Just - shut up.” He whispered, delicately.
“You’re soaking wet, aggressively hormonal, and smell like - well, nothing, but also that guy Jon - Anyways, let me do the talking. You’re a mess, hmm? Don't want you saying anything you don't mean.”
Weirdly, you knew you were safe with Beomgyu taking control. Considering your entire three months of history together, you should have been doubting the trust you instantly felt around him.
But you knew he was more thoughtful than he let on - underneath all those protective insults and mean glares. Knew to boil the kettle after he had used it, leaving hot water for your coffee in the morning. Even leaving your leftovers, without a word. Love appears in the unspoken corners of a person.
“I’m sor-” 
Beomgyu pressed his lips against yours, effectively swallowing the remaining irritation between the two of you. Pulling away, his lips brushed your own as he spoke.
“I said - stop, baby. Just trust me. Trust this. I've got you… Just - I'm happy you're safe… Let me take care of you for once, 'cause I know nobody else fucking does. And I’m not about to let you go mope about and cry alone in the same apartment, hmm? We both know I’m not that mean.”
The tenderness in his voice was entirely new. And for once, he had shown his vulnerability. He showed how much he saw you for who you truly were. How he knew your mannerisms already. How you tried to hide the pain.
And the pet name. Baby?
If you weren’t crying before, you sure as hell were crying now.
You nodded weakly. Truly in no position to fight. Your defences settled and you slumped into his awaiting arms.
Beomgyu shushed you as he moved to carry you both into the shared bathroom. Back to where all of this frustration had started. You held onto his hips with your thighs, gripping his shoulders as he held you to his body. Melting into his temperate movements and the hushing of your tears.
You were so used to being shoved away from him or distancing yourself from his annoying anti-socialism, that being near him like this - was so nice. Strange. But like finding a new path through a forest, you were willing to take the risk for the sake of admiring the scenery. 
He just fit right.
You were starting to believe what you had heard about the healing of purring, as you wiped the tears from your face. Stiffening as he entered the bathroom, tipping you to slide off his hips.
Beomgyu dropped you onto the sink counter.
And his heart bounded in his chest at the sight in front of him. You had covered your face with your hands, wiping and sniffling with a bowed head. Still trying to hide from him.
“Oh g-gosh, I’ve made such a t-tit out of myself, Gyu… God, you m-must think I’m s-so pathetic...”
The boy smiled to himself, while your eyes were distracted. Ears swivelling over the side of his head solely to hear you better.
He chuckled with a small “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” before lacing his fingers between the ones hiding your face. Pulling them back to kiss the edges of your lips. Once, twice. A few more times. Until your lips melded together; hands gripping his shirt as he licked into your mouth. At your soft moan, he pulled away with a bite to your lip, chuckling at you being so much more malleable than usual.
“Come on - clothes off princess.” He poked at your stomach, making you buck in surprise. Laughing gently, he settled your sides with patient hands. “You’ll get a nasty cold otherwise.”
Despite his nonchalant tone, Beomgyu wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in one of his jumpers and keep you there as long as possible. The thought of him claiming you entirely made his neck flush with a feeble purr, pressing a kiss against your cheek. And the thought of how he would have acted if the other hybrid boys had in fact joined the hunt - flooded him with guilt.
What he said was true. You probably would get a cold if you stayed in them any longer. But he didn’t press you. 
His voice stayed hushed as the pads of his fingers wiped the dark liquid from under your eyes, flicking them against his joggers.
“Shh, baby. You’re okay. Let it all out.” 
And when you thought you had stopped crying; his words pushed you to sob against the back of your hand.
As you curled over, he hushed you further.
"You're okay," Pulling your fortified cross-arm-defence apart to let him inside your bubble.
He placed your arms around his neck as he kissed your cheeks, urging you to let him into your pain. With clenched fists you let him tug you closer, pressing his lean and tall chest against you, purring deeply. A deep wash of comfort poured over your scalp until your muscles thawed.
"I've got you…" He rubbed his cheek against yours before kissing your nose. As you tensed away from him, his ears folded and his expression changed.
For just a second, a flash of annoyance had washed over him - a sound of irritation emitted before his tongue licked a quick stripe up the side of your neck. Sucking suddenly and harshly at your neck until you cried out. The distraction ended with another nip of his canines. Scattering kisses against the new aching bruise set in the middle of your pulse until you softened in his arms.
Satisfied, he trailed butterfly kisses up to your lips.
“You smell better when you’re happy.” He grumbled against your lips. Purring through them, almost. “Like warm honey. Turns sour when you're upset. Disgusting and bitter. Not a fan. Not in the slightest.”
Shocked, you laughed. “H-huh? W-what do you m-mean?” Wiping the tears from your eyes to clear the blur.
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, ears flattening to throw his head back dramatically and whine. When he rounded back with a sarcastic love-dipped smile, you laughed, distracted by how beautiful he was. And for a moment, just a single small inhale, you started to smell like yourself again.
“There it is.” He smiled. “Much better.” So quiet you almost couldn’t hear it. 
Before you could react, Beomgyu pulled away from you entirely. Dragging the questions away with him. He moved in such a feline manner; swiftly, and with such grace. Stretching his body upright between your knees on the counter. 
Peering over you, he looked at your clothes expectantly.
The change in pace made you stiff, mumbling a small sound of confusion.
“W-why are you staring at me like that?” 
Beomgyu rolled his eyes before coaxing just one more french kiss from you, drawing away to lick his gums.
Purring, he flicked his gaze down to your top.
“Come on. Clothes, now. Seriously. You’re still shivering.”
“Yes, yes, okay.” You huffed, shuffling forward.
His hands lingered at your side as you slipped off the counter. Silently ready to catch you if you fell.
Standing in front of him, you considered where the hell to even start undressing.
Moving away from his body heat had pushed the shivers to become more aggressive, and as you reached for the buttons of your fitted trousers, you felt your fingers tremble uselessly.
You puffed a small sigh, wiping at your face.
“Do you need help, babe?” Beomgyu questioned after watching you struggle for a good minute.
You paused. Peering up at him. You shrugged, and nodded. Shrugged your shoulders again. Awkward and unsure.
Beomgyu kissed his teeth before going to kneel, choosing for you instead.
He swatted your hands away to unclasp your fabric trousers, tugging the tightly squelching material from your thighs until he could free your legs completely. A slight embarrassment washed through you, but with the way he averted his eyes, you knew you were safe. Using the sink edge as a brace as you looked away bashfully.
Throwing them into a corner, he stood back up, watching as you swiped the damp hair from your face.
“You okay pretty? We can stop, if it’s too much? Still your housemate, you know…” He checked in, breath bated at your possible rejection. He would die if you pushed him away right now, but you had every right to do so. You had stopped crying, finally. And seemed more mentally present than in the hall.
You nodded then shook your head. Falling forward into his chest to wrap your arms around his torso. 
"Thank you." You sniffled into the fabric of his hoodie, face smushed entirely.
Beomgyu stood, a little shocked, before tugging his arms free, and holding you against his body with a shocked laugh. Standing with you - as close as you could possibly be. Scrunching up the material just to grip you tighter. He paused his breath, aching at your sniffles against his chest. Ears tipping to hear you on his left side.
"You're welcome, Y/N -" He mumbled against your hair, relaxing into the hug, voice wavering and tears brimming in his eyes. Smoothing hair from your cheek to rest his face against your own.
“I’m sorry for shouting at you - period - but you scared me, alright? You scare me. The way you make me feel, it’s so strange and, I - I think, I love you, Y/N. Just - please, don’t ever do that shit ever again.” 
Beomgyu’s chest bounced against you as he sniffled away a small, very strong stimulus of a cry; pulling you tighter to his body.
You had never seen him emote like this. Never seen him portray anything stronger than annoyance or irritation.
“I- I thought you had run off, that you were in some serious trouble - that I’d have to go back to the shelter - I don’t know… I thought anything, everything had gone wrong. Next time - I don’t know, hopefully, there never is a next time but - please promise you’ll wait for me? I would have come eventually… if-if I knew you were in that much trouble…”
He coughed slightly, wiping his eyes. Flicking his long hair out of his face. You couldn’t stop the tears that spilled from your cheeks. The way he clung to you - gently and without any evil intent - made you feel so loved and cared for. 
Such a strange thing to suddenly be revealed, from a man that you had been convinced, was placed in your life to make your day-to-day inherently challenging.
You could see now that the lack of communication was the real fiend. 
“And for god’s sake - don’t go calling other men for help anymore! Friend or not - please, God, I hate it when you stink of other people - especially when you come home from a shit day, stinking of your dog friend from the cafe… Ugh, it makes me feel like I'm not good enough. Like - like you don’t feel safe around me?”
You squeezed him tighter at that. 
His lack of confidence and security had been eating away at him. And the guilt had evidently played a part in his emotions, too.
You knew in your heart of hearts that despite being an all-around-dick, he truly would have picked you up had you expressed what had truly happened.
Beomgyu’s tears welled up little by little until he was fully crying. His ears folded back against his hair until they almost disappeared. Neck bent and hand busy wiping any remnants of tears away.
Looking up at his pained expression, you smiled softly. You reached to wipe the hairs from his eyes. Equally, a line of dampness materialised over the height of your cheek. He truly was such a sweetheart, underneath such a brash exterior.
“I’m sorry, I just - I’m here for you, I always will be. Just because I’m a dick sometimes, doesn’t mean I'm always a horrible person. It hurts me to see you in so much pain. Just - please - stop crying! It’s making me cry!!”
As Beomgyu pulled back a hand to swipe at his own face, he sniffled through a forced laugh. Smiling, you reached to brace his shoulders, tipping his chin to leave a kiss on the corner of his lips. His ears pulled forward into a hopeful, puppy-dog expression. It was… cute.
“I never knew you could be so nice, Gyu. You should try it more often.” 
The tall feline released an airy laugh, lifting you back onto the sink with welcome strength. 
“Yeah, whatever.” He scoffed as he dipped his face down to chase your lips; gripping at the soft flesh of your hips to pull you closer to his body.
Your hands rested at his neck, gently holding his face. Beomgyu pressed at your pursed lips with his own, until a small unfamiliar sound like a feline whine distracted you enough for Beomgyu to huff, pinching your chin up to allow his tongue to lick up in one swift movement against your palette.
It made your head immediately spin, your mood easily spiralling as you moaned softly. Beomgyu's hands squeezed at your behind as he fought for dominance; eventually pulling your face away with his hands, cutting short the passion to see your puffed lips and slackened jaw, keening softly at his teasing.
To your absolute shock-horror and amusement, a string of saliva cut between the air, connecting your mouths in such a filthy way that Beomgyu immediately groaned at the sight. 
“Fuck, you’re so cute like that, baby.” He whispered breathlessly; only to break the string of spit with another forceful approach. Pressing against your body to hold you in place as a hand snaked to hold your neck; at will to the feline who probed at your gums and pulled such wanton sighs from your body.
The tongues caught between each other's teeth reflected how the two of you felt so strongly about each other. How much you had been hiding from each other. How you yearned to be near him, even if he teased you endlessly. How he loved to be near you, even if you made him beet-red from anger. Three months of pent-up emotion released into each other through flesh and energy. The fear and love of the two of you trapped on either side of a literal storm, coming to a singular point.
Beomgyu settled, soothing his palms over your thighs. Obviously, his mind had wandered; changing pace once more. He pulled away from your face as your cold skin drew his attention away from your lips. Your fingers combed through the hair at his neck, welcoming the kiss to your jaw. Soft to the touch. Streaks of white flicked over your hand as you played with it. Pulling it against your knuckles to hear his gentle sigh.
Then, something new flicked in the corner of your vision. Using the moment to test your curiosity, you reached for the tall triangle felt black ear peeking from the top of his head. It jerked harshly, sensitive to your touch as your cold fingers brushed against the skin, sending a shiver down Beomgyu’s body. Namely, straight down his spine and into his crotch.
"Ah- stop, Y/N I’m sensitive - nngh, fuck…"
He grit his teeth to resist emitting a ridiculously loud purr as you leaned towards his scalp for a proper angle. Taking advantage of his body tensing up in surprise; you reached for his ear again before he could pull away completely, ignoring his whine of protest.
You tested your lightbulb idea - pinching the inside and the outside of his ear between your thumb and forefingers, to rub the pads of your fingers together with a slight pull away from the skull, very close to the base of the ear. If it was heavenly for pet cats, you expected it to be the same for humans.
It turned out to be almost orgasmic.
Beomgyu moaned softly, eyes fluttering until his forehead flopped forward onto your shoulder. You laughed softly in disbelief, applying more pressure now you knew you were safe.
His voice was so pretty. His lips parted as his head fuzzed over, jaw slack. Consumed completely by the feeling of electricity dancing all over his scalp and the top of his spine. And that deep, rumbling purr he had been trying to hold in so desperately; vibrated loudly against your collarbone. Almost unconsciously, Beomgyu nuzzled against the juncture of your neck. His hands rested next to your thighs, as you brushed his hair with the other hand. Laughing at the second shiver bolting down his spine, purely from adding a scratching element.
He hadn't  - nobody had touched his ears like that in years. He had almost forgotten how sensitive they were.
You used your spare hand to rub his neck, then shoulder. Sliding down his jumper to follow his arms, eventually slipping into the knuckles at your sides. His fingers relaxed before gripping your palms together. Weirdly, it was even more intimate than making out, and your hearts hummed in glee.
The purring vibrating across your shoulders had almost distracted you from the bulge in Beomgyu’s sweatpants pressing directly against the counter.
The flush to his cheeks and neck was giving his true emotions away. The way his left hand kneaded at the skin on your thighs, ass, and hips. The wholesomeness of the purr had almost distracted from all of this. And you had never thought about the prospect of such a reaction in a sexual setting - but if his lips and chest were vibrating this much from such a gentle touch; you could only imagine the implications of an even stronger vibration in other positions.
But the slower your circular motions, and the more you tugged against the tight muscles of his scalp; the deeper he seemed to slip into this mind-numbing state. You were almost 90% sure he would cream his pants before you could do much about anything. The thought made you smile, fondly. His demeanour, so malleable in this submissive state. And you were half tempted to push the dynamic - but you were too tired, at least for now.
Finally relenting your ear-mania, you ruffled his hair back into place with a small smile. Swiping at the last sniffles from your nose, before meeting his eyes as he pulled away.
“Sorry - I just, always wanted to do that. And you always hide them, so…” You spoke shyly, unsure what to do with yourself now that the ball was back in his court.
But - something was different. The way Beomgyu looked back up at you. His aura had changed. It had switched into something totally new and unfamiliar. His pupils pinched quickly, before expanding in a mesmerizing display of affection.
You searched his face for more clues as his palm pressed solidly over your thigh, over your underwear at your hips and up to the edge of your stomach until his palm rested against your ribs.
His hands from under the fabric tugged up; encouraging you to pull the thick blouse over your head. With patient hands the item eventually broke free from your body, cringing as the fabric slopped onto the sink before Beomgyu tossed it behind him and into the pile at the door. Once again, his ears pulled back in momentary softness as he met your eyes, hands restless to find purchase on your skin.
Being naked in front of him like this; strangely, you were okay with it. And, to add to your newfound joy; he was still purring. And smiling. Maybe this was all a dream, and you had fallen asleep at your work desk? But no, the twitch in his smile brought you back into this reality.
“Your eyes are different, Gyu?” You had asked, bemused at his body's reaction. Voice scratchy and hoarse from the crying.
Reacting to your tone, naivety, and curiosity in place of judgement, even his new pet name - it all made his ears fold back until his eyes creased into an oddly soft smile. A natural reaction to your voice that he was sick and tired of hiding.
With a tongue pressed to his canines, he giggled. Not quite the reaction you had expected, but refreshing nonetheless.
Beomgyu pulled you closer by the hips via his grip on your love handles; until your noses met and your hip bone tilted forward, ultimately pressing your core up against his very solid erection. The action made you moan airily, hips fidgeting against such a sudden change of pace, hands bracing at his shoulders. Your cheeks heated up, your body twitching in anticipation. 
You had kissed, but now this was something different.
Beomgyu’s smile was Cheshire-like - and his pupils were blown out wide as he nuzzled your face aside to kiss and nip at your jawline. It was funny; his feline tendencies showed in the most random ways. His energy remained unpredictable as he began running his nose against the juncture of your jaw, ear, and neck. Until he seemed to settle at the bruise blooming against your pulse.
Purring softly, Beomgyu’s hold on you softened. Supporting your spine now instead of securely holding it. His energy was entirely focused on leaving open-mouthed kisses on top of your pulse; ears flickering with how hard your heart beat the blood to the surface. Beomgyu sucked at the same spot until your knees drew together at his hips, scraping his blunt nails down your legs to soothe you. Encouraging your breathy moans with his own purrs dipping lower in vibrato, confirming every twitch and movement to gain friction against your core.
Beomgyu pulled away suddenly with a lewd pop, rubbing his nose against your own as you came eye-to-eye with a cat who looked like he had snorted a week's worth of catnip. Before you could respond, he bit playfully at your lip, dragging it with him as he pulled away to mumble into your hairline and ear.
“I can smell how needy you are, baby. It's pretty, and sweet, just like you. My eyes are different ‘cause they dilate when I want to fuck something. And I can tell you want to fuck me, too. Can tell you really need it,  baby. Can tell how much your body is aching for those cramps to go away, hmm? How wet you are already? You've needed a good fuck ever since I got here angel, God you smell so much like warm honey when you're turned on, it's insane… intoxicating, even. So much prettier when you smile.” 
Letting you process what he had so brazenly pointed out, he chuckled at your flushed and abashed expression. The change in pace he kept setting was giving you whiplash - dominant, straight into playful, then back into a domineering pace.
And it was so unlike him to speak like that - in such a filthy way. But it wasn’t unwelcome. 
Your eyes told him all that he needed to know; your eyebrows and nose pulled into an expression of confusion while you released a gentle sound of pleasure at the thin skin pulled delicately between his teeth. Pulling back, he laughed at you playfully.
“What? They never told you about a hybrid’s sense of smell amongst all that shitty fuckin’ paperwork?”
Pulling down your brows, you shook your head.
“No?” You mumbled, questioning yourself now too.
Beomgyu hummed in amusement while tilting his head to the side incredulously. Now, this was curious. His nose and ear twitched as he considered how naive you truly were in this situation. 
“They told you nothing about our sense, at all? Not even heightened hearing?” He questioned in disbelief. And his tone once again slid from mockery, into kindness.
You shook your head again.
The feline thought about it for a moment, gaze floating inwardly before centring back on your face. He hummed, kissing the edge of your lips only to pull away as you chased him.
“Mmmm, that explains a lot, actually. The past three months have been absolute torture.”
Beomgyu pressed his forefinger against your lips as you attempted to spurt some very sudden thoughtless questions (probably); shaking his head with a mocking smile. It wasn’t a dominance you were used to. Stern, yet somehow playful in the way he moved with you. 
Testing the waters - you let your jaw fall enough for your lips to fall open. Beomgyu’s short bout of shock melted into pride; pleased, as he pressed the digit down against your tongue.
It was such an unfamiliar feeling, so unlike anything you had ever done with other people. But despite his teasing and his insufferable attitude, something told you that you could trust him. Something jittering in your heart like a bird in a cage. A purr rippled across his chest as you sucked, so obviously satisfied. Ears dropping forward, canines appearing in his adoring smile.
“We can smell around three times the strength and distance that humans can.” He started, rubbing his thumb against your chin as you moved your tongue around the digits, sitting patiently on your hands. It was awfully demeaning - but with the way hearts formed in his eyes, you had to painfully admit to yourself how much you loved it.
“Our hearing is better, too. Some breeds have heightened physical abilities… Not that that really matters. Shit, Y/N, every time you pleased yourself after a long shift - it was absolute fuckin’ torture, babe. I thought you were doing it as - as part of our little game, but - how could you have known? You had no idea what you were doing to me - Had no idea how beautiful you sounded.”
Beomgyu pulled his hand away to exchange a delicate kiss, purring against your lips as he reached around to gently unhook your damp bra. Sliding it off to throw it into the wash bin without moving his gaze. Wow, that was weirdly attractive.
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I took it as part of the power-play. I should have said something, maybe?”
You quickly noted the change in expression; he almost seemed deflated. His ears folded to the side as he withdrew into shyness. 
“No - no - it’s fine it - it doesn’t change anything, really. If anything I - you’re lucky, I’m kind of really into voyeurism.”
Beomgyu’s attention snapped up, tall triangles standing to attention as his poker face remained unreadable. “What? Seriously?”
You forced yourself to explain before you burned up in embarrassment, or before this whole thing got awkward. If you can’t beat ‘em - tell them your most intense fetishes? That always works, right?
“Like - I’ve never thought about actually doing it before but - but the fact you could hear me do stuff and potentially even - smell? all of that - it’s kinda hot Gyu, as weird as that is to admit. And if it was helping you get off as well… I sort of, don’t mind? I promise - I’m not offended. Promise.”
Beomgyu’s eyes checked your expression - attempting to find any hint of foul play - before exchanging a nod. Followed by a slight pause for the two of you to smile in agreement - two perverted consenting adults to the other - before his eyes and hands flitted towards your chest. Focus, obviously switched now that was out of the way.
His intermittent bouts of purring hiked up a good pitch, ears folding sideways, a sign of obvious joy. He peered back up at your shy squirming expression, moving to press easing kisses against your lips.
Releasing a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, your hands found purchase on his forearms, allowing him to marginally move away.
“You really are so pretty baby, but you’re still so cold ~” He mumbled through a purr, fixated on how cold your skin was under his seemingly burning hot palms. As his hands soothed over your ribs and a thumb brushed the underside of your breast, his brows pulled into a frown. He seemed hesitant. And so you reached to pull his face closer for a kiss. You met his lips at an angle and broke apart for air after another shared smile.
A sigh slipped through your lips as he moved to kiss and nip against the skin at your jugular, softness melting into passion once again - his body moving down until his lips suckled around your nipple, leaving kisses all over your chest - but not touching you where you truly wanted him. You whined softly, gaining his attention. Beomgyu’s ears flicked up, followed by his face.
"Gyu - please… Quit teasing…"
He peeked back up at you with a guilty, playful look. 
“Sorry. You’re just beautiful, Y/N.” He giggled.
Such an - honest compliment, from him. You smiled, thanking him quietly.
His hands finally found their place as he gently squeezed your breasts in either palm. It was an amazing feeling - but far too intense. A small shocked yowl sounded from the back of Beomgyu’s throat as you hissed at the soreness of your body, gripping his wrist to stop before releasing a breath and relaxing again. His ears had immediately jerked up and forward at your discomfort; eyes wide as he watched you anxiously, stiff as a board.
“Ouch, Gyu - gently, please… period boobs. No harm done, just - easy tiger...” 
He nodded sheepishly in understanding, eyes, and ears softening, kissing at your cheek in apology before dipping to kiss your collarbone, hands working gently to ease the ache in your breasts. He even ignored the hated nickname - tempering his emotions for you.
But as much as he knew he could move on, he found himself drawn back again and again to the juncture of your neck. At this point he was frustrating himself; sucking at the broken skin until your moans turned into whines and your hips moved mindlessly,  chasing the friction. He needed to do something about it before he truly did cum from fantasy alone. 
He pulled away from yet another mind-melding hickey that was being placed at the same sensitive spot he had been abusing this whole interaction, a moan spilling from your lips as the pleasure was suddenly pulled away. His words were breathy, restless, eyes pleading.
“Bringing all the blood to the surface in just the right spot - fuck, baby, it brings your scent out so strongly. It’s so addictive. God, you smell so good - please, please let me mark you? Fuck, please - I’ll do anything - it might hurt but God I need to do it before I go insane -”
“Yes, fine! Jeez you’re starting to freak me out Gyu - take a breath!”  Laughing softly at his desperateness to get your approval, you nodded with a bashful expression.  “What do you even mean? Not like that Twilight shit?”
Beomgyu was losing his mind, so much so that the humour flew over his head.
“Fuck, I think I might cry -” His choked voice matched with his hurried kiss, leaving you breathless as he tugged you closer to his crotch on the edge of the sink.
“or come - fuck, it means - marking means nobody else can touch you, you’re mine only to play with. Think about it, if you smell this good on any given day I’m surprised nobody has tried to propose already -” 
As he moved to dive into your jugular you scoffed, pushing his forehead back as you made a face.
“Woah! Easy there cowboy! Care to explain a little more about claiming my soul before you take it please?!”
Beomgyu groaned deeply, whining like a child as his ears folded back.
“Ugh, fine!” He cried at your attempt to push him away, but not before gripping your chin to kiss you into a moaning mess. Your hips tilting to gain some kind of friction against the boner pressing up against your core. It made him groan airily as he pulled away, purring deeply once more.
“It means,” He started sarcastically, before moving to lick at the shell of your ear, a moan slipping from your throat in embarrassingly fast record time and a shiver shaking your body.
“No other hybrid fucker can put their hands on you. It means you’re protected if you’re into that. It means that I love you - fuck -” He groaned gently, biting at your bruised jugular with sharp teeth. You flinched, whining until he pulled away.
“Means only I can touch you, baby. Come on, I can tell you want it, look at you ~ you’re so sensitive ~” He purred against your ear as his thumb rolled over your nipples, biting at your ear lobe. You had been completely called out. Panties sticking to your core as your face heated; Beomgyu’s the finger that tapping against the edge of your underwear. Caught, red-handed.
“O-okay…” You offered, a little unsure. “Just be gentle with - whatever it is…”
He smiled against your neck, a new and somehow even deeper purr making a short rumble across your shoulder. 
He left a kiss at your cheek in thanks before his hands gripped the back of your hips, pressing your hips into his at such a tilt that he was holding you from falling. You started to grind against his member pressing against your clit from behind his joggers, reaching for a kiss before he sucked harshly at your neck.
The kisses were gentle; until they weren't. Beomgyu’s barely dulled canines pressed into your pulse until your body stiffened and you tried to pull away. Beomgyu pushed a purr, maintaining the pressure to not break the skin but not leave without some obvious remnant of a bruise. 
His patient hands began guiding your hips, which made you moan softly, ignoring the pain to scrape your nails up against the back of his ears. He responded in kind, finally releasing your skin to kiss at the juncture of your neck and jaw. 
The pain settled after a few harsh seconds; the friction of your bodies proved to distract you beautifully. 
Pulling away with a deep moan mixed with a rumble, Beomgyu’s eyes blew open again, ears flopped back into a doting expression, his thumb coming to wipe at the skin. Followed by his hands in a mesmerized state, before leaning to rub his cheek against yours in a soft embrace.
“You sound like an old radiator, Gyu.” You giggled, actually enjoying this side of him.
He smiled. “That’s all you, baby. Just happy you’re okay.” 
He had bit down hard enough to leave a mark, but not enough to break the skin. The two of you took a moment to hold each other.
“So - what now?” You offered quietly, loving his scoff at your sudden bravery.
“Well, Yeonjun will stop fucking bothering you, for one. That guy sticks around you like a fly and now finally he might get the hint. Soobin, too. Those guys are dogs, seriously -”
“But Soobin’s a bunny?” You laughed.
“Yeah, well,” Beomgyu laughed back, “they’re even worse sometimes. Rabbits have an almost endless libido - honestly, I pray every day for his partner.”
“Someone sounds jealous. Scared you’ve got competition? Maybe Yeonjun has more game?”
Beomgyu released a low yowl sound, lip twitching into an annoyed expression and tutting as his ears folded against his scalp. You obviously touched a nerve, a solid slap sounding against your thigh. Laughing with a scoff of surprise, you soothed a hand down his chest, kissing him into security. 
“Stop it, you sensitive feline. They don’t even mean anything to me. Where are they now, hmm?” He hummed gently before rolling his eyes, purring softly at your nails scratching at the base of his ear until he melted, moving your hand away to peck your lips.
“Not between your legs, I know that much. Think they'd kill to be here though.” Beomgyu huffed moodily, sucking his gums.
Laughing you nodded, pointing to the hand securely attached to your boob.
“Yeah, and they're not the ones touching me up, either! Seriously, as if I'd even let that sly fox within a foot of any of this…" Beomgyu smiled proudly, expression softening until you pulled him into a gentle embrace, butterfly kissing his lips until he truly melted.
Your foreheads rested together for a moment. Just breathing, settling your minds. 
All until Beomgyu released a sharp yawn against your hair. Stretching up and away from you suddenly as he moved to turn on the shower. Testing the water with his hand for a while before nodding his head towards the lush rainfall. You thanked yourself for that renovation. Watching him in curiosity. Still enamoured by the parts of his personality that kept appearing.
You slipped off the sink, hands covering your chest in modesty. Beomgyu smiled familiarly, ears folding as his eyes crescented. You stepped forward to pinch his oversized shirt. Tugging the fabric.
He laughed softly, confirming your intentions before reaching to tug it off, throwing it to the corner. Timid, his demeanour curved for a second before you reached to pull him closer for a kiss. He accepted, humming against your lips.
Curious, you spread your hands against his skin. Much to your amusement - his stomach was firm, yet soft.
Unsurprisingly, your hands dipped to his hips next. 
Beomgyu was definitely in shape - abs mellowed by his soft honey-coloured skin. But it really showed at his waist. Beomgyu laughed at your eagerness as you smiled back up at him. Willing yourself to calm your heart down as you decided to commit to what was happening.
Your cold hands against Beomgyu made him shiver, moan and purr all in a disjointed rhythm as you dipped under the waistband of his joggers.
He laughed softly, before your hands fully found their way around his shaft, pressing gently just to hear his pretty moan. With flushed cheeks, his jaw slacked. Eyes pulling over a haze as boys do when their body is full of lust.
The steam in the bathroom was quickly rising against the strength of the wall fan, your shivers tempered by the warmth. Your lover's body warmed your hands, overheating for your sake. What a waste of water.
Beomgyu sighed as you worked your hands up and down his cock, reaching to kiss his neck as your thumb swiped the precum down the vein on the underside. Pulling with a slight twist as your tacky foreheads met in the dim bathroom light - not even able to see him fully yet, but thrilled by the weight and length in your hands.
He leaned into your touch until his head became fuzzy, and then he needed to move on. Wanting to get you warm before you did anything together. Selfish, to be selfless.
The kisses on your skin were so kind. Loving. Gentle. As his fingers danced against your hips, before gently cupping you over your underwear. You moaned directly against his ear as he rubbed softly against the fabric and around your clit in a circular motion, the flicking of his ears and a deep purr letting you know how happy he was to hear you.
Finally, as you pressed your thighs together, Beomgyu hooked his fingers into the fabric, slipping them down to your feet. He groaned openly, enveloping you into a kiss before pulling away with your lip between his canines. He had smelt the aftermath or build-up of your hormones before - but being the reason behind them made his hands shake in anticipation.
“Your sweats -” You mumbled against his lips, loving the way he smiled back at you. Nodding in glee.
He moved away to fully undress, kicking the fabric away before shyly looking back at you.
You didn’t know where to look.
At his beautiful body as a whole. Pretty cock. Or gorgeous shaggy pitch-black tail.
He watched you with affection as you scanned him, taking a second to return the gesture before your eyes met again. He could tell you had questions, smiling as he brushed the hair off your face.
“Maine coon mix. I prefer to keep it short. Otherwise, it’s big, fluffy and annoying as hell. Especially when people call me cute, because of it.” 
Beomgyu’s ears twitched forward at your giggles. An ease washed over him. You were so much happier than when you had come in. And the tears had finally stopped.
“You’re pretty Gyu. Really handsome. Y-you should show it off more often!”
A loud purr sounded as his ears folded, and he nodded shyly. It was so - expressive. His tail. You couldn't stop staring at it. The way it twitched at your voice, curling then unfurling around his ankles. 
Beomgyu laughed. Laughed harder than he had all night. But it was all a show; hiding the heat flushing his neck by tugging you into the shower after him.
Holding your wrists as he walked you backwards into the water stream, kissing you under the hot water. 
It was thrilling. The feeling of being so surrounded. He moved back to shake his hair, laughing as you splashed him back in the face in retaliation. Only for you to grip his scalp to meet his mouth for a kiss, Beomgyu releasing a loud whine before a beastly purr. 
Hair pulling. You bookmarked that for a later date.
Somehow - despite your age and the situation - you ended up fighting. In the shower. What started as innocent water flicks at the other when their back was turned; quickly ended with you, wrists gripped at your abdomen as Beomgyu’s arms flexed to keep you still.
"Stop fucking flicking me with water! I am trying to help you warm up! Not drown in the shower!" He cried, taking the opportunity to bite at your shoulder.
You both laughed until you no longer could, humming as you looked up behind you. Beomgyu rolled his eyes, as a light purr settled against your back.
Dipping his head to meet your lips, he covered your face from the water. Giggling through his kisses at his long hair creating a slight cove in the stream. Something out of an artsy-emo edit, probably.
You didn’t care.
In your heart of hearts, you prayed it wasn’t a one-time thing. Part of you could tell - his eyes were following your every movement with a blush to his cheeks - that every second was full of love. 
And for once, with a partner, you weren’t nervous.
It’s not that he was totally experienced, but he was prepared to just wait, and to hold you, and to be held. He wasn’t in it just for the outcome. And you never knew sex could be fun; that you’d be laughing as he gripped at your chest, heart warmed through till your skin was on fire.
Beomgyu gently prodded you until your face was out of the shower stream, shoulders pressed against cool tiles. He bit at your lip, pulling it with him as you pushed the hair out of his face affectionately, trailing open mouth kisses down against your collarbone.
The boy was pretty tall. Having to shake out his hair when going to kneel in the restricted space, tail laying over his calves. He kissed down your sternum until he met your stomach, lips paying attention to your hips and hands holding the back of your thighs.
But his ears twitched from the water, pulling away in annoyance. 
Reaching over to the water, you turned it down halfway, Beomgyu’s ears folding as he shyly smiled.
“Thanks, pretty girl.” He mumbled against your thigh. “It’ll be good, I promise.”
You weren’t exactly sure what he was referring to, but as he hooked your thigh up and over his shoulder, your heartbeat almost leapt out of your mouth and you had no thoughts to spare.
He placed a pretty kiss to your core, before moving to place deep hickeys to your thighs, winking at you with a grin as his arm wrapped around your other leg. It held you in place as his thumb came from underneath, tapping at your clit to see you jump and squeal. 
“Aah!! Gyu! I’m sensitive, don’t be a tease!” Your body flushed as his shoulders shook with his airy laughter. Beomgyu apologised, nipping at your thigh before setting.
He turned his attention to eating you out with more intent than you had ever seen from him.
He started with kisses; testing the waters as he held you still. It was heavenly. Warm lips sucking and licking in a steady pattern, curling the coil in your stomach. Your hands found purchase at his shoulders, watching the water cascade down his beautiful back as your abdomen filled with bumbling warmth.
“Ngh - Gyu -” You whined softly, enveloped by his attentiveness.
He chose not to communicate; instead watching you with curious eyes as he circled your entrance with his thumb, before dipping a finger into your core. Moaning softly, your nails gripped at his skin. After a few pumps, he entered another finger, shallower but curling towards him.
He pulled away for a breath. “You’re so pretty, baby. Try and relax for me. You deserve it. I love you.”
He licked a long strip against your folds as he moved his fingers at a steady pace, your mind and body fuzzed over almost instantly. He had proclaimed his feelings so confidently, and it sent you for a spin.
You hadn’t even realised you had closed your eyes, but they jumped back open as he hummed against you, pulling away with a pop.
“You should cum first baby. Go on, I can tell you’re close.” His mumbled encouragements were so soft; fingers curling against him as you cried out. Holding on, on, on, on, until you crumbled.
As he pulled away, Beomgyu placed a kiss at the soft of your belly, holding your hips steady before kissing your forehead. Dazed, you melted into his touch.
Loving him just felt right.
Falling against his hold as he spun you away from the stream of water. The shower curtains rustled before his chest pressed against your back. He held you for a moment. Fingers wandering to your chest, nipples rolled against his palm.
The purr was back, against your shoulder blades. Matching how your mind felt as you heard lewd sounds behind you. 
“You’re so pretty Gyu…” You mumbled, head resting against the tiles. 
You didn’t have to see him to know it. You’d seen him plenty.
Beomgyu kissed your shoulder in response, thankful he was able to hide the smile breaching his hazed features. 
Working himself until a point didn’t take very long; having such a beautiful muse made the creation of a boner, pretty damn easy.
“You sure about this, Y/N?” 
Beomgyu’s mellowed question pulled you to peer behind, over your shoulder. He seemed worried. That this wasn’t the right decision. That he was showing his vulnerabilities far too soon. His brows were furrowed, inside of his mind.
Leaning back, you left a kiss against his neck.
“I’m sure, Gyu. I want this. Promise.”
That seemed to pull him out of his self-doubt. A tender expression breached his handsome features. Leaning in to kiss you deeply as he held your stomach at a curve, chest pressed against the tiles. 
With your legs straight and standing up; Beomgyu hit deep. As he entered you sighed deeply, Beomgyu moaning beautifully. When he bottomed out, your thighs shook in anticipation. He ran his nose at your skin, purring. Taking a moment just to savour this feeling of connection.
After a moment, your shuffles and moans told him when it was good to move. Hands reaching for yours, intertwining between your shoulders and the tiles. 
It really didn’t take very long for the whole thing to hit peak. But then; heaven has never had a time limit.
Beomgyu found no need for empty dirty-talk like your past lovers. Instead; the steam, the sounds of pure instinctual love, the shared words of care and devotion, the running water, his soft groans and even your own; it was the best music either of you had ever heard. 
Beomgyu continued his steady thrusts, before a slight stutter of his hips threw his rhythm off. Hips hitting hard, deep and heavy until you cried out; Beomgyu cumming with breathless pants. He tried not to collapse from the best orgasm he had maybe ever had - steadying himself before checking on you.
His purr’s were deep against your back, his arms falling to dip his forehead into the crook of your neck and hold you. He pulled his mind out of the gutter, biting at your ear and jaw as he drew you back, via his hold across your stomach. Staying inside of you, he held your wrists up as he met your lips - a kiss full of tongue and teeth, pure filth - before his other hand flicked a quick pace at your clit. The pads of his fingers skilled as your body shivered.
“Quickly baby, com’ on, I know you can do it. Look at you, fucked out and all trembly, just for me. Come on, you can do it. Quickly baby.”
Without any control, still full and clenching around him - sensitive moans sounding from Beomgyu pushing his sensitivity - it didn’t take very long for you to submit to his pleasant pleading, pushing you to come just one more time.
Just for him.
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The two of you did, eventually clean up. 
Holding each other for a while before he left you to shower per request; meeting you with a large towel and radiant kisses to wrap you up as soon as you stepped out of the tub.
Things were - going to be okay.
Different than before. But good. You didn’t feel so alone in this big blue storm, anymore.
Of course, some things would never change. Bullying Beomgyu into doing house chores was just another thing left on your list. And your inability to cook left you both bickering over take-out options. 
Beomgyu's abs flinched against your cold hands. Body settling again to let you slide your hand under his shirt, pulling the cotton fabric up against your forearm - before pulling back entirely. Legs perched either side of his hips, as he lay lazily lengthways on the sofa.
Beomgyu's ears flicked, a small purr of contentment floating out of his lips.
You were avoiding meeting his face, and so much quieter than normal. He wasn't so sure how to handle you. This new intimacy. He was afraid he would somehow fuck it all up. But he could only try his best.
"What is it, Y/N?"
You bit your cheek. Turning your head to avert your eyes as you moved to tug your shirt off, underwear loose but maintaining your modesty as you were otherwise bared.
"I'm cold..." You mumbled, covering yourself with your arms before resting down between his chest and chin. Arms folded between your bodies.
"You're so clingy." Beomgyu laughed. Softly, and for once without menace.
He tried his best to push out a large purr, breathing deeply as your erratic heartbeat began to thump more kindly against his skin. He liked this feeling. Skin against his. When your pulse slowed after comfort.
His knuckles soothed down your back as he reached for the throw on the back of the sofa; tucking you between his legs and enveloping you in affection. Tail loosely wrapping around your ankle and resting there.
"You can cry - if you need to, you know. You deserve that. I know you’re still upset, I can smell it hanging over you like a sour rain cloud. And - I know you don’t know how to explain what is going on in your mind. And we both know I’m not very good at talking. So we’re at a stalemate. But - I’ll stay. I promise. I’ll just stay with you until whatever it is, hurts a little less. Okay?"
His offer twinged like a hot coil in your gut. Your body going stiff; before a slight shudder and a whimper emanated from the small hole in the blanket. You were crying. Pressing his tongue against his palette, he pushed himself to purr even deeper.
Getting a sore throat was nothing when it came to comforting his person.
He could deal with a sore throat. But he didn’t think he could deal with you being upset for too long, as selfish as that was.
“I’ve got you.” He spoke into the open air. Your sniffles masked by insistent pattering thundering rain. Tight arms compressing you both into healing. Your souls content, if not in a reasonable amount of pain. “I know you’ve got me too.”
“For the record,” You snuffed into his clothes, pulling away to cough against your hand. "You’re the idiot, idiot." You wiped at your face; nose sore from earlier and a cold slowly approaching through the sleepy haze.
His fingers brushed against the bumps against your neck. He almost felt bad for leaving them there, fangs indented into your jugular. But he couldn’t deny the fuzzy pride that he filled with when you shyly caught his hand, holding it there. 
He smiled sadly. “That will go in a few days, you know.”
You smiled, poking his chest with a giggle.
“We can always make another one, Gyu?”
Beomgyu blinked before his ears peeled back and his smile turned gummy, shrugging shyly.
“Oh, hahaha.” He laughed, humbled by your return of the pet name. Ah, this was what love felt like. He had almost forgotten. “Are you sure you - want me, like that, Y/N?”
Rolling your eyes, you shrugged.
“Depends - will you start hoovering?”
Beomgyu’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, jumping up before flopping down as you stayed sitting on his stomach.
“Fuck no!!” He cried desperately, “But I’ll let you come to band practice if you want to be around me so badly.”
You squinted at his faux smugness, punching his chest before crossing your arms.
He cried out, giggling until he could pull you to slide between him and the back of the sofa, ignoring your whining to drown you in fabric.
“Gyu! Get off me! HELP! I’m drowning - SEND HELP!” 
But you were merely playing. Accepting kisses between giggles.
“Shut up, and get some rest. We’re ordering food tonight.”
“I’m so squished and stuffy Beomgyu -”
“Good. Oh, and, I love you, idiot.”
“Laundry duty and I’ll say it back?”
“Fuck no, but I still love you. Even if you don’t say it back.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you have a cat-boy for a boyfriend. Nerd.”
“Oh - when did I say it could be official?”
"You didn't - I did. It’s in your best interest. Trust me. I would know.”
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MAIN MASTERLIST /// TXT MASTERLIST /// IMAGE MASTERPOST
[UIHALL - PART 2.I HERE] /// [UIHALL - PART 2.II CONTINUED]
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well would you look at that: updated 5/DECEMBER/2023
2K notes · View notes
castle-dominion · 8 months
Text
6x18 the way of the ninja
the ninja episode liveblog
my intention is not to be racist by lumping in asian martial arts together but this kind of reminds me of Kung Fu Crabtree from murdoch mysteries.
Ooh she pretty oof thought that flapping was a gunshot. Oh it's a knife. WAIT IS THIS THE EP WITH THE KARAOKE THAT GAVE ME ANOTHER SONG TO PUT ON MY RYSPOSITO PLAYLIST? (dang there rly was subtext there huh.)
Ooh jazz Ooh friend from high school! Carly. Interesting. Like the other high school friend who owned a restaurant. Love the castle theme in the music here. KB: Definitely not. You are exactly her type. And the last thing I need is to watch someone from my past trying to seduce my fiancé while talking about the goddess that lives in her hoo-ha. RC & me: !?
KB: Please, Castle. You have to promise me. If you don’t hear from me by 10 o’clock you will call me and get me out of there. RC: I am setting an alarm right now. See, this is what having a partner in life is all about. Me: so true bestie.
they LIKE the strange ones Passport? why does she have it here & now? SP: To the untrained eye, perhaps. But what you don’t know about postmortem analysis could fill a book, Mr. Castle. In fact, it has. Numerous times. (Lanie first met him & praised him for his writing of death) & maybe castle should read those books to please permutter. RC: (dryly) Fine. So it was not a knife. SP: Ah, wrong again. It was a knife. But "stabbed" implies the blade was thrust into the victim, whereas this wound was produced by it being hurled into her chest. tbh could clip but won't
KB: Ryan, do we have any witnesses that saw the Great Throwdini or anyone else in the area? KR: Uh … no??? Not so far... (looking between them)
Ryan backstory moments: It’s a drop key. Yeah, I used to scavenge stuff like this from old buildings when I was a kid. I LOVE KEYS I HAVE AN ELEVATOR KEY MYSELF WHICH I HAVE USED TO PLAY WITH MY SCHOOL ELEVATOR BEFORE, I LOVE EXPLORING OLD ABANDONED BUILDINGS RYAN & I SHOULD HAVE BEEN KIDS TOGETHER.)
rehearsals fo rwhat? Oh dancing. Oh that's beautiful actually. Poor Dean he's so broken up over this & still young enough to be living with his parents.
Ryan comes in looking so excited (Ooh ryan totally was in ballet as a kid or smth lmao. except who can afford that? it was either piano or ballet, not both. Only one extra curricular.)
Ooh a good old yucky chair. Also grabbed a pic of caspockett but not ryan bc he was on the other side. tho had a great look.
point, why an elevator if no elevator? Ooh hanging sheets, can't see anything?
Ooh tatami mats & a shrine!
Castle no touchy! love a good silhouette
love slow motion & a puff of smoke...
... a ninja... stole the murder weapon... ... ho ho ho yeah!!! a cough diversion!
caskett: *married couple bickering* Gates: MURDER INVESTIGATION HERE
KR: Detective Beckett, this is consulate officer Amaya Tagamai calls her detective <3 Amaya Tagamai
Good old accents. Shinto my beloved. I really wish I learned more when I was in Japan & in World Religions class
Actually I heard that ninjas don't exist... in the plural form. But there is one last ninja & he is going to pass away before he can teach anyone else ninjutsu because the era & need for ninjas has passed & assassination is not a pretty thing to be proud of. Or maybe I'm remembering wrong. idk. But yeah as soon as he dies there will be no more ninja! ninja 3 the domination XD
KB & me: I swear she just said that it wasn’t that mysterious.
Actually yeah! bruce lee was a great dancer!
Oof ex(ish)-lovers playing lovers.
esposito said karate nicely <3
Castle mixing up two different east asian ppl, I'm glad that it was a funny bit of "don't be racist" without being to heavy
Lee: Look, if she fumbles a lift I’m the one that blows a knee. That's true He did almost catch the cup bc he does have good reflexes from being physically trained, but yo're right he did fumble. But the cup srs broke? kinda shocked but becks reacted nicely & calmly even tho castle broke the blue mug that she likes. Imagine her getting mad. Then castle tries it again with ANOTHER person he thinks is a ninja & this time breaks Ryan's signature mug. then he's mad too. Then ryckett gang up on him mad for breaking their cups.
WHY was she giving it up? She IS mad abt the cup! He slept thru it!? lol
*castle raises his hand* KR: yes castle! Carly & the goddess lol
bro it DEF looks like a tea import company a warehouse. A limo in the warehouse district.
"& two of us are cops" I was just thinking "only two really count" but he was thinking "there are three of us, plus two more bc we're double-powered bc we're cops" but I was thinking "three plus sokka"
*camera lets them in for some reason*
Ooh music. Ooh glass beaded curtains. Bro: they're shooting a porn? No wait it's an asians themed single club. I mean an asian themed singles club Nice place!
I've worked at a place like this. or it looked like this & I worked serving food. Castle buying these two their fun. Love it. Wow she is faking that accent. Wowie esposito with the girls & poor ryan my married man. "yes" "no" love it when they do the rysposito opposite directions thing *pushes her off*
ryan & esposito making each other all. I love. "private time" RC: I'm fine right here *watching rysposito fight* "what we came here for" good line
I love japanese karaoke. Play the part or they get in trouble? do they... do they have cameras? or ppl watching? Also Castle could ask for a massage where they don't need to play the part so much. oH WAIT THAT IS WHAT HAPPENS I was just remembering it by accident lol. CASTLE SNOOZE THE ALARM
je: Do you think maybe we could get another bottle? Something better? More expensive? they didn't put their badges in their pockets? JE: I’ll stay here and... entertain the ladies. Ryan has two paths: "fine by me I was getting uncomfy since I have a wife" or "why can't I be the sexy one?"
YES NO YES KARAOKE. I hate it I love it I'm excited it's a new song on my playlist kill me kill me kll me second hand embarassment but he's actually good skjfdskdlfjsdklfjlksjd didn't kate have a karaoke stakeout with mike Aww mama-san, like what I call my mom.
*getting thrown out* just like that time in vegas. This is not the first time these three have been thrown out. Best table, second bottle of more expenseive sake, three people, private time,,, still tho that's pricey (it is not lawful to remove alcohol from their premisis" KR: you're rich it's fine (tho that's a term or even two of college)
JE: It cost you six k and we’ve got nothing to show for it. RC: Ah, I wouldn’t say that. KR: You mean besides lipstick marks on your shirt? RC: I actually got a lead in there that’s going to blow this case wide– oh, whoa. Wait. Lipstick marks on my shirt? Where? Beckett’ll kill m– (he stops and covers his mouth) Oh my God! I didn’t call. (he scrambles for his phone) You guys. Beckett is going to kill me. He pulls out his phone, but before he can dial there’s a ninja throwing star embedded in the screen. KR and JE gape. RC: Ninja attack. (not clipping but I could have)
(or maybe I will & I'll grab this fight scene too.) Yeah clipping. I love how castle slowly backs away. rly edited voice. Look up idiot look up!
Sounds crazy AND you were drunk (possibly) If I was Gates I'd say they're trying to cover for something. mister saito not saito-san? He threw a party. The girls must have been brought by car... Ohhhh catering! Genius! Castle & gates I love them Castle in trouble with gates ryan oh no castle in trouble with his gal. Clipped that genuinely.
Ok but the excuse its valid!
Oh no beckett is afraid that marriage will be boring! Romance my beloved <3 *the music holds for a sec* How bout now?
I have never heard of cronuts until this show. croissant donusts. Ryan with the cronuts "Hey!" Becks, who took one & then stole the box with a second: they're not both for me! What are they already doing here? they already went down to soho & bought cronuts & talked to caterers?
Hoho, the consulate gal
NOT just like! Those ones are decorative, yours were made of steel! (& tbh it looked to me less on the japanese side of the spectrum, but def not as far on the german side of the spectrum. Just judging by the use. I mean, obviously it is far away from the maleable german side, but I wouldn't say it is quite fully there on the brittle japanese side. Tho ofc again if you consider the use, japanese steel would make more sense. & ofc you can't forget that they are literally japanese. but they are a more malleable japanese.)
Love the way beckett said esposito's name to mr saito. Love how he is so... good at talking. No technically her job is to solve what happens AFTER ppl are on the street. (& remove "dangerous people" from society so that yeah no murders happen on the street.)
If it were me I'd say "Of course, I'll have it right over. Can I read through the warrant? Oh, you don't have one? don't you need one? Oh not if I give it willingly? Well I'm not sure how that works so I'd like to read the warrant first, sorry. i just don't want to get in trouble with the law for sharing private information without a warrant or not reading the warrant, because you're legally supposed to read the warrant right? You're saying it is my RIGHT to read the warrant but not my JOB? Hm sounds sus. I'd rather not. I want to be a good citizen of the law."
Wasn't esposito in organized crime for a sec? (btw love the ryan outfit. stripes are smth he has. tho tbh I dislike it.)
tagami was on mat leave for 2 months! imposter! Crazy! Love it! except the orphpangage will be japanese
Aid you in your quest? she's only like 20 years old? I mean yeah she was dating a guy who was still young enough to live with his parents. To me that looks like a burn more than a scar. Then again, my stars aren't that shape even tho they are nearly the size.
Okinawa!
the green dragon wow cool name lol you had jade's bday? she didn't change it along with her name?
But the body type. Was the body type of the ninja close to saito? (also were they feminine? then again, skinny asian ballerinas don't have boobs)
Not wearing their vests? She said behind your head-- you come up with them down & then throw them up rly fast?
The sister survived too? Good on the uncle. Did the brother die?
I REMEMBER THE BUSINESSMAN NOW Ph I remember the green dragon arc now!
Randall: We were property developers. Jade’s father? He was an architect. I was a builder and Saito was the money guy.
He didn't do nothing! He called asked not to hurt her!
*killed just before he shared the name* ah the ninja was waiting to kill him later or see if he got arrested, but he was forced to kill him to protect his secret.
Wow love a good fight scene & also love the score Maybe don't shoot either maybe she told u to get the gun so THEY wouldn't shoot! (looks like a white guy babes) & it's bedford. & IT'S SAYA!
will she get charged with attempted myrder?
Oh no I remember Castle taking out the star. (he's so going to cut himself on that) But remember how in future episodes he has it.. framed almost? In a jar or smth? Ah the theme
Loved that ep! Absolutely loved it!
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seiyasabi · 3 years
Text
Fixation
(This is a Yandere Yelena x Fem Reader story ;)) This takes place in a Modern AU outside of the anime, and I won’t justify my reasoning lmao 
TW: Coercion, !Drugging!, Manipulation, !Noncon!, !Dubcon!, Daddy kink (ehehe), spanking, she’s a straight up Dom w her tall ass, kinda a meanie, degradation!, handcuffs!, use of sex toys!, Overstim!, size kink!, dumbification?, unwanted filming!, etc.. 
Proceed with caution! Sorry if this is too self indulgent lmao, when women (lesbians) talk to me, I become the biggest idiot to ever exist :)) ) 
Today wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt. 
Begrudgingly smoothing down the lilac fabric of your skirt, you huff indignantly. All you wanted to do was look cute for your crush, Marco, but it seems that that was too much to ask for. 
Your white sweater, at least, keeps you somewhat warm from the harsh wind. It’s tucked into the waistband of your high waisted skirt, and your thigh high socks push the fat of your cute thighs out slightly. The sound of your white sneakers against the pavement is drowned out by your classmates’ loud voices, and you’re seemingly unaware of a certain black-eyed glare. 
Seeing your classroom come into view, you hurry inside, sliding into your lab assigned seat. Eyeing the dark haired male of your dreams, you can’t help but sigh pathetically at the fact that he hasn’t noticed you. Up until recently, the two of you were great friends-always hanging out and texting one another. But, the moment the both of you picked up this class, everything changed. 
Hearing the seat next to you slide open, you glance up at your seatmate. Smiling up at the tall woman, you greet her kindly, “Hi, Lena! How’re you today?” 
The Russian exchange student smirks down at you, as she plops onto the seat, “Good, now that you’re here.” 
Laughing at her gruff words, you wave her off, “You always say that,” Zipping open your backpack, you pull out your class notes, “What’re you going to do this weekend?”
Her smirk widens, dark eyes gleaming, “Why? Asking me on a date?” You laugh once more, completely oblivious to her hopeful tone. 
“You’re so funny, Lena,” Pulling out your pack of multicoloured pens, you start to set up for your class, “I just heard you speaking with Annie about ‘something big’ the other day, so I became curious.” 
Not one to acknowledge boundaries, the blonde woman starts to play with your (hair/sweater), “I’m throwing a party, one you should come to,” Her tone leaves no room to negotiate, but you don’t really notice. Nodding, you smile up at her. 
“Sounds fun! When is it and who’s going?” Her hand trails down to your thigh, fiddling with your sock. Brushing off your mild alarm at her ministrations, you justify her actions through your cultural differences. 
“Tonight at eight. Annie and her friends should be there, same with Marco and a few others,” She name dropped the kind man on purpose, knowing your misguided infatuation with him. If only you knew how much of a pussy he is. All she did was threaten him once, and suddenly he stayed clear of you. It made her life easier, sure, but it annoyed her that he dropped you like a gutted fish. You’re too good for that. 
Pulling out your phone, you pull up your calendar, showcasing that you have no plans this evening, “Okay, I can go!” 
Her smirk grows wider than before, “Great,” Yelena’s accent seemingly grows thicker, her r rolling more harshly than before. 
With that, class begins without a hitch; Yelena’s hand still glued to your perfect thigh. 
-
Stepping out of your car, you readjust your new outfit. Keeping the thigh highs from earlier, you changed your lilac skirt for a black, body con one, along with a cropped, black long sleeve shirt that accentuates your cleavage. 
Slamming your car door shut, you lock it with your key, before heading towards Yelena’s luxurious flat. You can hear low music and voices from her open top floor balcony, multiple shadows moving inside her home. 
With a fast beating heart, you can’t help but hope that Marco will speak with you tonight. With that hope deep in your chest, you step inside the fancy building’s lobby. Approaching the front desk, you go to show them your ID, but are met with brightly smiling faces. 
“Go on up to the tenth floor, (Your Name)! Yelena already told us that you’re coming!” Surprise overcomes your form. Why do they know you by appearance alone? You’ve never even been here before. 
“Oh, okay! Thank you,” Deciding to ignore the weird situation at hand, you head towards the lift. Pressing the button, you wait a few moments, before stepping into the open lift doors. The sleek metal walls reflect your appearance back at you, whilst you press the pristine ‘10’ button. With a small beep, the lift begins to move, practically flying at top speed to the top floor. 
Once at the tenth floor, the doors fly open, showing what looks to be a living room. You can’t help but gawk at the large flat displayed before you. Your classmate must be quite wealthy to afford a place like this. 
You awkwardly make your way inside, and are immediately greeted by the party’s host, “Hey, (Your Name), welcome!” You’re side hugged by a buff arm, practically slammed into Yelena’s torso. 
“Hey, thanks for having me!” You pat her back in an attempt to have her let you go, but instead, it seems to spur her on. She drags you towards a large L-shaped couch, which is filled by Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. A handful of others sit at her dining room table and kitchen counter, the open concept allowing everyone to see and speak to each other comfortably. 
Reiner glances up from the story he’s telling Historia and Ymir, a grin painting his handsome features, “Whoa, that’s a new look for you, (Your Name)!” 
Multiple eyes are suddenly glued to your now self conscious form, an uneasy smile on your face, “Hello, everyone.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you look great! It’s just really different from your normal, cute clothes,” People nod and agree with the large man, causing you to break out in a nervous sweat. 
“Well, I hope I don’t look too bad,” You joke halfheartedly, “I just wanted to try something new.” 
Yelena takes your appearance in, practically salivating. Whilst she does enjoy your usual clothing, this look fits you quite well. 
“You look very nice,” Bertholdt reassures soothingly, patting the spot by him, “You can sit next to me, if you’d like.”
The short haired woman glued to your side reacts immediately, “No, the girl needs a drink,” Annie shoots her a knowing look, which she nods to in response. You’re practically ragdolled to the kitchen bar, as the conversation starts up once more. Once at the marble countertop, the large woman releases you in favour of pouring you a cup of spiked punch, “This is very good. Made it myself.” 
You give her a bright smile, accepting the red solo cup, “Cool! I’m sure it’s delicious!” Bringing the cup to your (lipstick/chapstick/lipgloss) coated lips, you take a small sip. A burst of fruity goodness explodes on your tastebuds, making your eyes widen in surprise. You can’t taste a drop of alcohol in it, “Wow! This is really good!” 
A proud grin overtakes her lips, as she nods her thanks, “Of course it is. I knew you were coming, after all,” You laugh in response, and take another sip of the red liquid. 
“I see! Well, you have a very nice home!” The tall woman leans against the counter, holding herself up with an arm that goes behind your form. 
“Thank you. It’s very spacious. I find myself lonely at times,” Her large, black eyes stare down at you, trying to send you a message through them alone. 
“Oh, well, have you tried getting a roommate? Maybe the flat won’t be so empty,” She nods at your words. 
“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you be my roommate?” You laugh, thinking that she’s joking. Not bothering to look up, as you take another swig of your drink, you don’t see the somewhat hurt look on her face. 
“That would be something! Not only are we seatmates, but we’re also roommates,” You giggle some more, taking more sips of your delicious drink, “But, your flat is a lot nicer than mine. I may take up on your offer.”
Looking up, you see her grin at you approvingly, “Yes, that would be nice,” What you don’t know is that her lease is almost up, making it so she has paperwork she needs to fill out. Paperwork that would look great with your co-sign on it. 
-
Three drinks in, and you’re feeling a bit woozy. Typically, you’re not a lightweight, but it seems that you are tonight. 
Leaning your upper body onto Yelena’s strong form, you laugh hysterically at something Reiner says, “Oh my God, you’re hilarious-” You cut yourself off with a snort, causing the entire room to laugh at your cute giggling. 
The short haired woman you’re currently using as a pillow holds you tenderly, a pleased smile on her face. The stuff Annie gave her works very well. 
“Man, if you weren’t Yelena’s girl, I would’ve cuffed you a semester ago!” Reiner roars wholeheartedly, slapping the leather couch below him. 
In your cloudy mind, you barely understand the words he just said, “Haha, wha-?” 
Pushing your head into her breasts, Yelena shushes you, “My poor baby is such a lightweight,” She and the others chuckle at that understatement, “I think it’s time to turn in for the night.”
Her civil way of kicking everyone out was enough, as everyone trickles out of her luxurious flat. Once the last person leaves, Yelena stands to her feet, scooping you up in her buff arms. She goes to her lift, pressing the lock input, she types in the lock code, not allowing anyone in or out of her home. Your high mind can barely comprehend what’s going on around you. 
She hums an unknown tune, as she goes up her steps to her master bedroom. Kicking open the door, she flips on her bedroom light with her elbow, before shutting the door with her foot. Sauntering to her California King sized bed, she lays your drugged out form on her light grey coloured sheets. 
“-Lena, wha-” Your head lulls to the side as you giggle uncontrollably, “-Are- are we dating?” She hums in response, starting to pull down your skirt. 
“Yes, my Darling Girl,” She smooches your forehead, “We’ve been together since I moved here,” Pulling your skirt’s fabric down and off of your legs, she tosses it on the floor, exposing your pink panties. 
“Bu-but, I like Marco,” You weakly attempt to push her grabby hands away from you, “I-I wan’ Marco!” 
The feelings of disgust, envy, and fury overwhelm her all at once. How dare you! She’s always treated you so well, that spineless fucker doesn’t deserve anything from you! He especially doesn’t deserve your wonderful heart! 
She says nothing, grabbing your blouse, and chucking it off of you. Your breasts jiggle at her ministrations, your bra just barely containing your tits. Seeing your almost bare, perfect body makes her pussy tingle, but her anger outweighs her arousal. 
Settling on the bed, she grasps your boneless body, and pulls you over her knees. You’re still muttering and questioning the validity of your relationship, all whilst saying that horrible boy’s name, causing her to cup the fat of your ass and squeeze harshly. 
“Baby, you know better than to say those horrible things. I love you very much, and it hurts to hear you say that.” 
Your breasts, arms, and head rest over her left knee, as you try to look up at her stern face, “But-”
“No buts, you know what happens when you act like a brat,” She slaps your ass experimentally, earning a pained yelp. A small smirk covers her lips, and she hits your ass as hard as she can. 
“‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Your pleading is cute, so cute. 
“I know you didn’t, Princess. But I have to remind you of your place,” She slams her hand down once more, jolting your entire body. A shrill cry leaves your lips, as you try to move off of her lap, but seemingly can’t find the strength to do so. 
After five more smacks, the blonde pulls you onto her lap in a straddling position. One of her arms wraps around your top half, pushing your crying face into her neck. The other is wrapped around your waist, hand smoothing over your bruising ass, and playing with the hem of your panties. 
“Don’t cry, Princess. You know I had to set you straight,” She coos, “Your stupid, little brain is far too gone to understand at the moment, but you will once you sober up. So, for now, let your Daddy make you feel good.” 
You mutter nonsensical words in between your sobs, but the large woman isn’t put off. After she’s done with you, you’ll never think of that freckled fuck ever again. At least, you won’t unless you want him dead. 
Wrestling your pliant body to the mattress once more, she leaves you on the bed by yourself, before rolling onto the left side. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she pulls out a pair of handcuffs, a battery powered hitachi wand, duct tape, and a small bottle of lube. Setting them on the bed by your writhing form, she quickly makes her way back to you. 
“Shh, it’s alright, Princess. I’m right here,” Yelena reaches under you, fiddling with your bra’s hooks until it pops open, allowing her to slide your useless arms out of the garment. Tossing it aside, she sucks in a deep breath, enjoying the view of your plush chest. Experimentally, she pinches your right nipple, relishing the small moan you let out at the feeling. Gripping the handcuffs next to you, she feeds your dainty wrists through the opening, popping the pink, plush cuffs on tightly. Happy with the result, she continues her endeavour. 
Moving farther down your body, she leaves your socks on, loving how your thigh fat squishes up a bit. Grabbing the hem of your cute, pink panties, she pushes them off of you, exposing your pretty cunny. It separates from you with a small string of slick, filling Yel with a sense of satisfaction. You’re her perfect pain slut, aren’t you? 
Pushing on your pliant legs open, she smiles happily down at you, dark eyes blown wide open, “Awe, is your slutty pussy wet for me?” 
You shake your head rapidly, disorienting yourself more than before, “Nu-no! It’s not!” She clicks her tongue teasingly, her smile growing wider than before. 
“Don’t lie to me, Princess. Now I have to punish you once more,” Forcing your legs open, she holds them down with her own, straddling your waist. Her large form easily overpowers you, as she grabs the blue hitachi wand, and flips it on to the highest setting. Pushing it against your clit with a swift motion, your entire body jolts at the sudden stimulation. A loud whine leaves your lips, as you try to buck it off of your sensitive cunny. 
“Puh-please! Take it off! It’s too much!” Yelena snickers in delight, ignoring your pleading. Grabbing the duct tape from beside you, she rips off a few long strips, before smacking them onto your skin and the vibrator, effectively keeping it attached to you. 
Your moans and whimpers continue to grow louder and louder, as you try your best not to cum. You bite your lips in the hopes of stifling yourself, but it does little to help. If anything, it just spurs the large woman on. 
“Go on, cum for me, cum for Daddy,” You shake your head, a few keens falling from your mouth, as she watches in awe at the way your cunny leaks and clenches around nothing. 
Your toes curl in ecstasy as you cum, a loud whine escaping you. A gush of your orgasm flows from you, wetting the blonde woman and the mattress below. Two long, slender fingers prod at your slick pussy, forcing themselves inside your sensitive walls. 
“Good Girl, You’re so Good for me,” They Start to move in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot repeatedly with how long her fingers are.  
“Too much! Too much!” You cry, as she quickly brings you over the edge once more. 
More slick sprays from your cunny, as overstimulation begins to set in. Yelena captures your lips with hers, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. The kiss is wet and hot, as she grips at your plush chest. 
“No, no it’s not, Baby. It’s not enough,” Fumbling with her fly, she releases the strap she’s been wearing all night. In all honesty, she’s surprised that you hadn’t noticed the bulge or felt it underneath your ass earlier. It’s a good ten inches in length, and around 5.5 inches of girth. 
It is pretty intimidating for most, but due to your fucked out stupor, it should feel amazing for you. Grabbing the lube, she squeezes a small amount onto the silicone cock, smoothing it over the toy in sync with her fingers pumping inside of you. 
Deeming the toy and your cunny ready, she makes the next move. Sliding off of your numb legs, she stands to her feet, towering over you in all of her glory. Hefting you up and off of the mattress, she quickly punched your back against her pristine, white wall. Forcing your arms around the back of her head, she continues to kiss your drooly mouth vigorously. 
Wrapping your legs around her slender waist, her large leg muscles and arms work to hold you up. Guiding your dripping cunny over the tip of her strap, she slowly sinks you onto it. 
A keen of both surprise and pleasure rips out of your throat, as you grip onto her short, blonde locks. Giggling, she bucks her hips into yours sharply, causing you to orgasm on the spot. The vibrator and her strap on feels like heaven. 
Throwing your head back in bliss, you feel your arousal drip onto her dress pants, creating even more wet spots than before. Separating from your lips, she grins down at you. 
“Look at you, dirty Girl,” She spanks your ass harshly with one hand, as she continues a hardcore pace. The tip of the silicone cock batters against your cervix, causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain, “You love it when Daddy ruins your pussy, don’t you?” 
Too fucked out to think properly, you nod your head vigorously, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I love Daddy’s cock!” She kisses your cheek tenderly, not stopping her thrusts for even a moment. Moving her lips down your vulnerable neck, she starts to suck the tender skin, leaving dark love marks on your pretty skin. 
“Mmm, good Princess! Since you’re such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat. Do you want a treat? Does your dumb little mind even understand what I’m saying?” You nod once again, eyes teary and pleading. 
“Yes! Yes! I want a treat, please, Daddy!” Smirking against your skin, she reaches into her pocket from around your thigh. 
“Since you asked so nicely-“ She presses the injector lever, shooting a large load of fake cum into your gummy, needy pussy. You cum almost immediately, this clearly being the biggest orgasm of the night, as you practically convulse and squirt a geyser of cum all over the place, “I think you deserve Daddy’s cum inside you.” 
You practically sob at the overstimulation and the feeling of being so full, “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!” You kiss her of your own volition, surprising the large woman. Her heart warms, loving how you’ve become so submissive. 
Cradling you’re form to her muscular body, she saunters back towards the bed, pushing any other objects off and into the night side table. 
Placing you on the now dry sheets, she quickly flicks off the vibrator still taped to your clit, before placing it on the table beside her. Plucking off the duct tape, she then takes off your handcuffs, effectively freeing you. Instead of moving away from the woman, you lay there tiredly, no longer processing the situation. 
Sighing in content, Yelena grabs a hand towel from the drawer she keeps her sex toys in, and wrestles it under your hips. Smiling, she removes the strap from inside of you, enjoying the sight of the fake cum flooding out of you. 
Laying next to you, she pulls your head into her chest, curling around you as if she were a safety blanket. 
“You did well, Princess,” You don’t say anything, snuggling into her warmth, “Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll announce our official status, okay?” 
An slurred ‘Okie’ is heard, before you slip into unconsciousness. Cupping your face in appreciation, her dark eyes glance in the direction of a small green light coming from her video camera. 
Now you’ll have to date her; after all, you wouldn’t want your sex tape to get out, would you? 
1K notes · View notes
missblissy · 3 years
Note
Uhh yo this blog so pretty - anyWAY, do ya reckon I could get some Al trying to get his s/o to sleep? I canNOT get to bed as hard as i try, and I'd just love for the dusty ole' bastard to maybe sing me a lullaby or warm some milk ... also blog so pretty-
((WHEEZE INTO THE VOID PLS LMAO. Thank you nonny xDD I worked really hard to make my blog as pink as can be lol, anyways. Yes xD I can do that. Im sorry it was a little wait, but I hope this helps you get some sleep. It certainly helped me UwU. Enjoy Stinky Deer~~)) ((PS: Here is the song that plays in this story!!))
It was getting ridiculous at this point. You couldn't stand it anymore. If you could bear yourself in the face to fall asleep you would. You laid in a bed too big and too empty to feel warm or comfortable. It wasn't even your bed, or at least it wasn't your room. If you knew that sleeping as a demon would be this hard you wouldn't have let yourself die so easily. Nothing about hell was enjoyable.
Well, aside from your uncanny relationship with Alastor. What would you call it? Many people assumed you were together of some fashion. Which they were not wrong to assume. You were incredibly close with Alastor, that was true. Close enough to sleep in his bed. But personally, you wouldn't put a label on your relationship with Alastor. And if anyone asked, you'd often reply with, "Why don't you ask him these questions?" Because no one would ever question anything about Alastor.
So you tossed and turned in the plush bed. The red silk sheets were too much so you kicked them off, leaving the fluffy comforter. You laid there for a second then groaned before turning into your other side. He wasn't here, but you could easily change that.
You took in a deep breath, let out a sigh, took in another breath then called out, "Alastor!" He was never far. He made sure of that, but he also had his ways of always keeping an eye on you, even if he was gone. You waited in silence for a few seconds then slammed a fist down beside you on the bed and called, "Alastoorr... I can't sleep!" With as much irritation as you could.
There was the small build-up of a hum. And like the pop of a balloon, Alastor's shadowy form manifested before you. Bright red eyes filled the darkness of the room and bringing the only light. He smiled and tilted his head slightly to one side, "Yes, my dear?"
You gave him a puppy dog look and started to scoot over, "Please?" You didn't even have to ask. Alastor only smiled then gave a snap of his fingers. In a cloud of smoke you could barely see, he changed into what looked like pajamas. He climbed into the bed and used some kind of magic to fix the mess you made. You scooted close, but not enough to invade his space. You knew how little he liked being touched and you knew how great of an act of kindness this was for him. So did little to spoil it. You were lucky, however, because he draped an arm behind your head just enough so that he could comb the random strands of hair out of your face.
Here came the best part. No, it wasn't the small amount of warmth, or him playing softly with your hair. It was the low static in the air as music played ever so softly from within Alastor. It was an airy tune, slow and soft with a twist of jazz that he so loved. It always sounded different coming from him. And it always seemed so much more magical as you tipped over the edge of sleep. You closed your eyes and listened to his voice as he sang quietly along with the tune, "Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you." Birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me."
You could compare it to being close to a speaker when loud music is played. But Alastor wasn't a speaker and the music was barely a whisper in the wind. It was just enough to fill the void of silence but not enough to be disturbed. Alastor still slowly curled strands of hair around your ear and away from your face, "Say "Night-ie night" and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me... While I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me."
"Stars fading but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss, I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear." His voice grew only slightly louder. It filled your ears as you drifted off. Enjoying every bit of this. You were so very lucky to even be gifted with his company let alone the spoils of his songs. "Just saying this: Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me."
The music went on playing. You could hear him humming along with the piano while the song played out. Alastor had gotten close enough to pull you into his arms, but only once you had started to finally drift to sleep. He leaned in close and let his nose brush against your forehead while giving the lightest kiss imaginable. Though his lips brushed against your skins as he sang the last of his song, "Stars fading but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss, I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear. Just saying this: Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me..."
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pretendrocketships · 4 years
Text
Think About Me
About: Shawn fucking you after your bachelorette party, reminding you who you belong to. Forever. (SMUT)
A/N: 3K THIS REQUEST WAS EVERYTHING. IF YOU HAVE A FIRE REQUEST LIKE THIS YOU BETTER SEND IT. I went from Dom!Shawn to cute and giggly mid sex Shawn.Idk how this ended up being so cute.  Lmao I hope y’all can see I’m indecisive.   Actually had fun with this, I’m back babbieesss. I would love love love some feedback. 
Song: Think About Me by DVSN
--- 
“Baby! Have you seen my keys? I’m going to be so late and the girls are going to kill me.” Shawn sat on the couch and continued starring at whatever was so captivating on his phone, 
“Nope, haven’t seen them.” You rolled your eyes and took his phone out of his hand.
“Shawn, you didn’t even look up from your phone, let alone help me look!” 
“One, you’re cute when you yell, and two, you asked if I had seen them which I truthfully answered no.” He snatched his phone back and planted a quick kiss on your lips before plopping himself back onto the couch. “Any other questions?”
“What is wrong with you?” you asked more to the wind than to him.
“Nothing. Fine.  Why wouldn’t I love sparkly pink balloons and confetti around our house, reminding me that over-sexualized men are going to be rubbing their junk all around your face,” he said drawing air circles around your head, “for the entire night!” You threw your head back in a laugh.
“Baby, don’t be like this, you had your fun last month,” you reminded him. All the boys flooded out of hiding to surprise Shawn with the “dream bachelor party”, as they called it. You remember the pictures on Brian’s Facebook of Shawn’s goofy drunk smile and all of his closest friends finally in the same place at the same time. Clicking through the album you were cracking up until you saw a picture of Shawn with his hands covering his eyes and the boys laughing or wide-eyed around him. You were ready to click to the next picture to see what all the fuss was about until suddenly everything disappeared. The album disappeared before your eyes, baffling you until your computer pinged, signaling a private message from Brian: “Sorry love, what happens in Vegas and all that.” You snapped yourself out of the memory when you felt Shawn pouting around you.
“Ok yes, buttt it was all Brian! I had no choice; I was kidnapped!” he whined, sinking further into your plushy couch.
“You’re lucky you’re cute Mendes,” you said, straddling him and kissing his temple to attempt to stop his whining.
“So you’re staying?” he said perking up, sliding his hands around your waist, towing with the hem of your dress. It was your turn to laugh.
“Oh hell no, I’m going to have a great time, baby.” You leaned close and kissed up his neck, ending just under his ear when you felt him shiver. “And you’re just going to have to get over it,” you remarked kissing him slowly while he pulled you impossibly closer. “My needy boy,” you chuckled lowly.
“You actually cannot leave me here right now,” he groaned thrusting his hips up.
“Watch me,” you whispered. You felt a little evil, but mainly powerful. Getting off his lap, you were excessive with sliding off him and shaking your ass once you were back on your feet. “Don’t wait up.” 
“You know what, I will. I’ll take care of myself tonight you have fun. You smiled at him, that dazzling smile that initially made his heartache.
“You do that, baby,” you cooed squeezing his cheeks, “give your right hand a break after a while.” He groaned. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, far from it, he just hates how hot you are. That was confusing, and he admits it, but having a fiance so attractive means looks. He was no stranger to them. No matter how many times you reassured him all the stares were for him, but he wasn’t stupid. The fact that not one, not two, but several hot men with glistening abs and better dance moves than him were getting paid to put a smile on your face. Fuck he needs to stop thinking. He may be slightly freaking out, but he would never let you know that. He removed your hand from his cheek quickly and interlocked your fingers, stretching his hand out above the top of the couch.
“You can do whatever you want, honey,” he said whispering while holding an intense stare. “These guys can grind on you, touch you,” he muttered while trailing his other hand down your curves, “try their best to put on a show, but we both know I’m the one that has you begging, screaming,” his hand how ghosts over your neck,” cumming until you’re shaking. So, have fun, honey, I’ll be here when you need me.” Your breath hitched in your throat as goosebumps appeared all over your skin. He kissed your temple and pulled himself up from the couch. “Gotta get going, (Y/N), you’ll be late.” He was full-on smirking on, glad he took back control of the situation. You straightened up and fixed your top and your hair.
“Don’t wait up.” With one final kiss, you grabbed your keys, which were where you left them, you were out the door, leaving Shawn to ease his mind alone. Now, what was he going to do all this time? He didn’t even come back from his own bachelor party, spending the night at Brian’s because he was so far from gone by the end of the night. You got a picture from one of his friends with him curled up shirtless, in black jeans that were way too tight, with a teddy bear in his arms. No one was really sure how Shawn got to bed, but the picture was cute enough for you to not be mad at him for not coming home after a night of strippers. 
Shaking the thoughts of his bachelor party away, he got up and looked around the house for something to do, but everything in your home reminded him of you. Like everyone normal person, his mind went to Instagram to hope some mindless scrolling would take his mind off everything. Several questionable Tasty videos and dog pictures later, he found himself clicking through everyone’s stories, not paying much attention until his phone let out a scream. He almost dropped his phone before seeing your face flash across his screen. He sat up straighter on the couch and clicked back to start the story front he beginning. He saw you and your friends screaming on a party bus, he saw all the alcohol and the pink glitter sash that settled nicely between your boobs, so he thought. You and your friends were dancing and laughing about whatever you managed to hear over the loud music. The next story was a solo picture of you with the caption “LAST NIGHT OF FREEDOM DONE RIGHT!!” The next story, he wished he didn’t click on. The front of the strip club was familiar. He might have looked up all the best clubs in the city just in case he needed to come to rescue you, and this one was at the top of the list. He saw several more stories that were to follow, and he locked his phone. He considered throwing it, but he already heard the lecture you would’ve given him if you found out why. He decided to lay back and force himself to sleep, aka torture himself thinking about how was getting to rub their junk all over his almost wife.
-- 
“Bye! Thank you again!” you whispered as waved goodbye to your friends, silently thanking them for making sure you got home safe.  Shawn shot up from the couch as if his dick told him it was time to wake up.
“Honey!”
“Shawn!,” you screamed. “Don’t scare me like that, and I told you not to wait up!” He laughed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into him.”
“(Y/N)!” he mocked you, “you know I always do. So how was it?” he said waiting no time. You chuckled and pushed his chest, moving past him towards your bedroom. 
“Not much to tell.” He wrinkled his eyebrows at that, quick on your heels.
“What do you mean ‘not much to tell’?” You steadied yourself on the wall to take off one of your heels. 
“I mean you don’t really wanna know, baby.”
“Ok, now I need to fucking know exactly what happened.” He bent down to grab your legs and threw you over his shoulder. 
“Shawn! Put me down you fucking animal!” He came around to the couch and sat down, forcing you to straddle him.
“There, you’re down. Now, what happened?” You rolled your eyes and cupped the back of his neck.
“Do you really wanna know?” He rolled his eyes.
“Obviously.” You hit him in the chest.
“Don’t be an asshole or I won’t tell you anything.” He held his hands up in surrender and stayed quiet. You took a second to admire him. He looks so good when he wasn’t talking and letting you be in control. That gave you an idea. You leaned in, impossibly close to him. “Do you want me to tell you? Or show you?” His head jerked back in confusion for the second time on the night.
“Show me?”
“Show you.” And something clicked in Shawn.
“Show me.” You grinned and started to get off him and shake your hips in front of him. You were swaying side to side, to the beat of some song from the club that would not get out of your head. He was about to teach his hands out before you moved further. You whipped your head around. 
“Look, don’t touch.” After giving him enough of a show, you got back on top of him, letting his hands finally begin kneading your nearly bare ass. 
“No. This?” he said, squeezing particularly hard, “is all mine. And I will touch as I please? Got it?” You laughed and started unbuckling his pants.
“You can’t go one night without giving up control huh?”
“You never let me. I let you go out all night with your friends, let you have God knows how many guys dry fuck the air around you, let you post all over social media about how much fun you were having, yet the whole night I know you were thinking about how much better I could do. Had to shell out ones for those guys when I could having you moaning into the sheets. I let you have your freedom because I know at the end of the day you’re mine, and I’m yours,” he growls.
“W-was not thinking that,” you whimper, slowly feeling the rough pads of his finger paw at your clit.
“Then why are you so wet right now, honey?” You groaned. You wonder why you continually choose to lie to the person who knows you the best on this earth.
“Fuck you,” you spit out, unable to focus because he’s just tapping your clit and not doing anything. 
“Aw, honey, is that any way to speak to your future husband?” 
“Shawn, if you don’t do something right now you’re not going to be a husband.” He laughing and smiled while sliding your thong and underwear off in one swift motion. 
“What do they say? Happy wife happy life?” he continues giggling to himself. “Yeah, I’m funny.”
“For the love of, God,” you begin to sit up and take your shirt off. 
“Leave the sash on.” From giggling to stern, that was your Shawn. As you undressed, he went to work. His fingers were sinfully skillful. His thumb was rubbing slow circles into your clit. You leaned back into the couch cushions, the feeling washing over you.
“Fuck, Shawn, your mouth.” 
“So needy, could your little strippers make you feel this good?” Those were the last words he said before attaching his lips to your soon to be swollen bud. The sounds he was making were obscene and bouncing off the walls and amplifying in your ears. He was sucking your clit with the force of a vacuum, and you felt like he was trying to pull the orgasm straight from your core. He was lapping at your folds, it was messy and crude, just how you liked it. He spread your lips and spit directly on your clit.
“Fuck!” you cried out squirming. He drove back in, drawing patterns, letters, music notes. Whatever the fuck he was doing,  you just didn’t want it to stop.
“F-fingers,” you moaned out, reaching down to pull on his locks. Without warning, two of his fingers slipped inside of you, searching around and making themselves are home. Your hips were jerking and with one forearm, he held you down and made you take it. His fingers were grazing your gspot, rubbing softly like he was trying to build you up for as long as possible for your release. 
“Close?” he said muffled against your core, asking as if he didn’t know your body better than you did.
“Please, Shawn! I’ve been thinking about you all night, please, please just me cum.” You tried to stroke his ego to get him to be nice, but as soon as you said that, he let up and wiped his lips with a dirty grin while you were gasping, trying to catch your breath. “Shawn! What the actual fuck!” 
“No way you’re not cumming on me, honey.” He pressed what he thought was going to be a quick kiss to your lips when you pulled him closer by the neck to be fully on top of you. A soft chuckle was let out by Shawn until you glared at him. “Sorry! Sorry!” he said with his hands up, “the sash tickled.” 
“My husband’s an idiot.” He smiled wide at that.
“Wondering if you’re going to be able to keep insulting me with my cock stuffed halfway down your throat?” You whined and squeezed your legs together. 
“Shawn! He laughed and started stroking himself.
“Fine fine, I’ll stop teasing, but only because I love you.” He leaned over you, tip angry red. He spent a minute raking in your body, wondering how he got to be so damn lucky. He left sloppy kisses starting from your belly button all way down to your clit. “Ok, now I’m actually done teasing.” You opened your mouth to scold him until it turned into a scream.
“Fuck, Shawn!”
“Your wish is my command.” After he bottomed out, he took a second to savor the moment. Your eyes were squeezed shut, a light layer of sweat was covering your chest, and the glittery pink sash, your breasts looked like pillows just waiting for him to suck. 
“S-shawn, you can move.” His hips jutted forward, almost as if he were on autopilot. The sound of his hips slapping against you consumed the room. 
“God, you feel so good,” he moaned into the air as you clawed at his back, pushing him closer. He was exactly where you wanted him, attacking your favorite spots that he knew like the back of your hand. 
“No no no, Shawn, right there!” you whined as he started to slow down.
“Oh, I know.” Even with that purely fucked out look on his face, he still managed to be cocky. He pulled out completely, slapping his tip right against your clit, repeatedly. “Wanna hear you say I’m better than the strippers. You wanted to scream, actually, you might of, it was hard to think with your mind so hazy. All you could think about was the orgasm that was just ripped from you.
‘Shaw-”
“Say it.”
“Fuck me, just move!” Now he fucking with you, pushing only the tip in before pulling back out, laughing to himself about how frustrated you were. 
“You’re in no position to make demands here, honey,” he reminded. You would truly hate him if you didn’t love him so much.
“Fine! I was thinking about you making me cum all fucking night. No one can fuck me like you so please, please just let me cum.” The desperation in your voice made his dick twitch.
“God, I want that as my ringtone,” he groaned while pushing fully back into you, filling you beyond belief. He was done teasing now, coming to terms with the fact that he couldn’t make you wait any longer because he couldn’t handle much more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he grabbed your right leg and threw it over his shoulder. His other hand snuck around your left to rub you fervently. 
“(Y/N),” he commanded in the tone that let you know he wanted your attention. You forced your eyes open to see Shawn staring straight at you. He held eye contact, watching your every move while he felt you flutter around him, letting him know you were close. “Come on, I know you’re close. Let go, baby.” His hips and hand sped up, forcing your orgasm to wash over you.
“F-f-cuk,” you broken cries were swallowed by Shawn’s lips. He snapped up into your forcefully, spilling inside you. You felt ribbons of his cum inside you, intensifying your orgasm. You were grabbing onto the arm of the couch, onto his back, anything to stabilize you, and bring you back down to earth.
“I’ve got you, honey. You’re okay.” You were still breathing hard when Shawn pulled you into his arms, squishing you both onto the couch. He snatched the throw hanging on the edge of the couch and pulled it sloppily over both of your bottom halves.
“I love you, you know that? More than every stripper in the world” He grinned and pulled you impossibly closer. Fuck. He was in love. Your breathing finally evened out as he played with your hair. He looked around the house that became his home because of you. He looked down at your sleeping figure and felt his heart swell. Seeing the glitter sticking to your chest, due to the sweat, he looked down and saw the sash still on you.  
“Bach that ass up,” Shawn read and rolled his eyes. “Fucking incredible.”
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chosonore · 3 years
Text
pairing: noritoshi kamo x f!reader
warnings: nsfw, oral sex, fingering, noritoshi is mean, begging, edging, biting? (he gives u a bite like once)
wordcount: 1.6k
here's a little (not so little LMAO) extended snippet of the little thing i showed @sukirichi !! at this point my doc is already at 3k words and it's just gonna become a mammoth of a series probably dhfusedsfkjf ENJOY
and you swear that he knows, he just has to know what a mess he's already made of you in such a short amount of time as he asks, "what's wrong hm? what do you need, baby?" and you fall for it, hook line and sinker. you think to yourself, fuck it, the opportunity is right there. he may be an insufferable dick and you might fight more than you get along but the opportunity is there and god, do you want to be selfish. you lean up to kiss him but he pulls back, clicking his tongue, repeating again and this time more firmly, "what do you need?" you can't help but stare at him, how his slightly damp hair frames his face, his chest that was exposed by the loosely tied bathrobe and how it revealed parts of his thigh. you want to see more of him, touch him. there's a burning feeling inside your chest, it's clawing at your skin, trying to break free. you grow more restless as he stays still and gives you a stern look until you grasp the hem of his sleeves and whimper quietly, "please kiss me."
it feels like an eternity until he presses his lips against yours, everything that is so unmistakably him floods your senses. his scent wraps around you until your brain can't make out any more coherent thoughts other than him. 'toshi, 'toshi, 'toshi, your 'toshi. he moves so languidly; his lips are warm and soft but bruising at the same time, kissing you with fervour. you begin to ease into the kiss, letting go of all your inhibitions. you could worry about it later, you'd decided, this is a future you problem. you wiggle in his hold, hands coming up to push at his bathrobe. noritoshi doesn't budge and continues to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip - your hands become more restless, desperate to touch him. he makes an unenthused noise, biting your bottom lip as if warning you to not push him. still, he somehow obliges and sits back on his heels, taking his bathrobe off and throwing it haphazardly to the side.
he looks ethereal, somewhere in the distance you think you can hear angels singing. you reach out to touch him again, earning you yet another warning glance from him. “where do you get the confidence to do whatever you want after that little stunt you pulled earlier?” he questions you in a low voice. whatever snarky remark you had on your tongue is thrown out of the window when noritoshi leans down to touch you, slowly pushing your oversized shirt up to reveal your shorts, then your bra. your breath hitches in your throat, you can’t tell what he’s thinking because even in this state he keeps his perfect poker face on. and when he undresses you, you almost feel embarrassed of how eager you were to rid yourself of your clothes. yet you feel exposed - noritoshi doesn’t make a sound as he just studies you as if you’re a luxurious meal presented on a silver plate, the sound of his breathing alone makes you squirmish. he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of a compliment nor does he let you know what he thinks, instead leaning down to kiss you again.
before you can deepen the kiss, he’s already moved down to your neck. you mewl in disappointment, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your hands in his hair. this time, he lets you touch him, too absorbed in his mission to paint the skin of your neck in hues of red and purple. noritoshi moves lower when he’s finally satisfied with his work of art, you’re a great canvas, he thinks to himself. the burning feeling in your chest is flaring up again, you feel uncomfortably hot and the only relief you get is him touching you. he must know, he’s doing this on purpose. you’re convinced. a surprised gasp leaves your lips when his tongue swipes across your nipple before wrapping his lips around it. his fingers flick the other one and- oh god does it feel so electrifying, so delicious, so good. you moan his name, gently tugging on his hair as he continues his ministrations. “noritoshi,” you whimper, trying to grind against his thighs. “please- please touch me.” he moves faster than you can react, snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin.
“i am touching you,” noritoshi responds matter-of-factly, cupping your breasts. “is this not enough?” you shake your head, making him chuckle. he takes his sweet time, lathering your chest with the utmost attention. at this point you’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties and onto the sheets and you’re desperate. finally, his lips leave your nipple, his breath grazing them, making you shiver. he seems to enjoy it, enjoy the effect he has on you, how you’re writhing for him and him only. with swift movements, he removes your panties and your legs are thrown over his shoulders - how are his shoulders so broad - and he’s pressing kisses to your inner thighs. “look at you,” he coos, glancing up at you. “you’re so wet for me and i haven’t even touched you here yet. are you craving me?”
“yes,” you mewl truthfully, wiggling your hips slightly. you miss how his face lights up in delight, loving how you’re slowly but surely coming undone for him. he’s placing kisses everywhere but where you want him, where you need him. you’re at his mercy, he alone decides the pace. the desperate little tugs at his hair leave him unbothered, you can’t even move properly because he’s keeping a tight grip on your hips, holding them down onto the mattress. “do you want me?” you nod quickly. “then beg.”
"i'm not- i'm not gonna fucking b-" you don't get to finish your sentence as noritoshi gives your inner thigh a bite. "language," he hisses in irritation. "we can do this all night, baby. i don't have any qualms about keeping you here, making you squirm until you know not to treat me like that." to emphasize his threat, his hands languidly stroke your inner thighs, inching closer to your heat. goosebumps raise across your skin. noritoshi pays no mind to your laboured breathing or how you stare at him in disbelief. you would not beg him more than this, this stupid asshole, who does he think he is to expect you to do as he says? as if sensing that your attention wasn't on him anymore, one of his hands reached up to pinch your nipple.
you feel his fingers grazing your pussy, flicking over your clit but not quite touching it. yet the pleasure, coupled with the sharp pain of his pinching, is enough to make you delirious. you moan his name, hips rutting up slightly to meet his hand. noritoshi pulls away abruptly and makes you whine in frustration. "noritoshi!" you whimper again, closing your eyes in embarrassment. "please just- just touch m-" you feel another, harder pinch, tingles shooting straight to your core. "look at me," noritoshi growls and you open your eyes quickly, not wanting to disappoint him again.
"please touch me, please just… i need you, need your lips or fingers," you struggle to find the right words, huffing in frustration at your weak attempt to persuade him. "please make me cum, please. i'll be good for you, i promise, i promise. wanna be good for you." a sardonic smile graces noritoshi's lips, your begging music to his ears. he almost wishes you could see yourself like this - the yearning evident in your eyes, your beet red cheeks. what would you say? how quickly your resolve had crumbled, even though you'd vowed to yourself to keep him at an arm's length away from you. what's more heavenly to his ears are your moans and he intended to draw every last bit out of you tonight.
when his tongue finally makes contact with your cunt, a loud moan leaves your lips, you almost sob in relief. your thighs tremble slightly, threatening to close but noritoshi's quick to pry them open and delves deeper into your heat. he alternates between lapping at your folds, then dragging his tongue across your clit before giving it a suck. your hips rock against his face, meeting his movements as if it was already second nature to them. you think you see stars when you inch closer to your climax. tugging at his hair you whimper out his name, letting him know that you're close, so close. that's when he pulls away, smirking at you as your high slowly ebbs away. you make a noise in protest, brows pinching in frustration but noritoshi just coos at you condescendingly. 
"you seem to forget who's in control here," he tsks at you, dragging his thumb across your clit. your hips jerk. "but, baby, you look so pitiful, i might just feel sorry for you." hope sparks in your eyes when he presses a brief kiss to your lips before slipping his fingers past your folds, his thumb drawing circles on your clit. "ride my fingers," he commands and you react immediately, eagerly rutting against his fingers. you miss the dark glint in his eyes, the look that tells you you're not easily let off the hook whatsoever.
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alatismeni-theitsa · 3 years
Text
16 anti LO anon opinions
All under the cut
(1) Fastpassers are also probably mad bc when smythe post fastpass title on twitter(which was heathers musical song ripoff) everyone was so hyped up and excided, they thought this gonna be about "Underqold badass queen Persephone " or something with her trail or something big with her, but no, they got Minthe flashback that didnt change anything in the story
(2) Fastpassers are annoyed bc this episode was flashback of Minthe. Two previous fastpasses got pretty big(and stupid) revals(leto is bad guy,apollo and artemis may be zeus child and last but not least Cronus awakening) so they were hopping for something more not a filler wpisode that changes nothing in to the story bc there were wpisodes that make Minthe more "symphatetic" than this one.
(3) Am i the only one a bit concerned that a Minthe episode made LO fans demand their money back but apparently episodes and a planned redemption over Apollo, who R*PED the main character, was met with fans sympathizing with him and feeling bad for judging him "too soon"?  They can accept a sexual assaulter having mommy issues to excuse his bad actions, but a boring filter episode about Minthe, who we know will be killed by the end anyway, gets outrage? That doesn't sit well with me.
(4) oh my god the LO fans hated the minthe fast pass so much they actually made LO's rating start to go down 😭 most of us here dont even like the comic but none of us would purposely review bomb it over a boring episode over a character we didnt like, thats so entitled!
(5) Adding on to the recent fastpass, it was extremely boring. I get that you can't please everyone but the fact that Minthe is having a backstory now just feels like filler.
This is the main issue I have with Rachel's story, she has so many characters but chooses to develop them at the worst times. If we got this backstory earlier in season 2, this would make sense. However, the fp before this one ended on a cliffhanger. You'd think it'd continue but no, we just get Minthe backstory.
I'd rather see an Apollo backstory, he's an active villain and would be interesting to see his motive.
Minthe doesn't have a compelling motive other than jealousy.
(6) I can't be the only one who thinks the new hairstyle updates for characters like Apollo or Eros look weird right? Eros literally looks like an adult version of one of his siblings Storge (who has curly permed hair and was holding a hamster)
(7) That Lo eros panel ... oof. Wheres his hairline going? He had a damn 7 head. Also at least for awhile the men had a different face from the women, but I guess they’re also women now, facial features wise?
(8) On a side note: why the fuck is Eros so ugly in this episode😭
(9) SMYTHE DOES NOT ONLY HAVE A DD/LG KINK, SHE A L S O HAS A PREGNANCY KINK!!! WHY ELSE HADES WAS SO *SMIRKY* ABOUT THE WHOLE FERTILITY GODDESS THING BACK WHEN HE AND PERSEPHONE WERE AT THE BEACH???? i swear to Allah this shit gets even more and more disgusting.
(10) This is something i see so much but LO especially but why do all of them have boring ancient clothes? It's always white or tan sheets or maybe black if it's someone in the Underworld. I'm going more off ancient images but shouldn't the gods especially have more grand and detailed clothing options? i get it's probably harder to design based off colorful skin tones but it's not impossible. it just seems so much of the comic design feels very flat, so if the story can't hold up then the art should.
(11)  The main problem I had before with lore olympus was its cliffhanger syndrome. Like, why do some many chapters leave on a cliffhanger and for no reason at all? Like when Hera got hit and nothing happened. When I was experiencing the episodes coming out in real time, it drove me mad.
It's gotten better recently but that's probably because the three recent episodes (fastpass) felt more like filler.
That's the main reason why I feel like the plot is being dragged out. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for cute character moments and creators getting money but, LO is slowly becoming less and less interesting. I literally skipped around in most of the fasspasses because it really wasn't interesting. The only thing memorable about all of the fp episodes is the beginning and end, the middle is just kinda there.
(12) Ampelus (psyche)'s eyes used to be golden/yellow but now its coloured purple lmao
(13) Wtf is happening in lore olympus?! Now they want to bring cronus back and do another war?!? Are they crazy nothing like this didnt happen in mythology and obviously not bc of persephone(in comic her pink tree in underwold will give crounus power and life). It supposed to be romance not whatever fuck this is now.
(14) I feel like if I was at Henson Co. or Webtoons with a tv deal on the line, I would make Smythe to hand writing duties to a pro or take a hiatus seriously plan everything out, because all these new plots are distracting from what people signed up for, which is to see HxP get together and the myth. It seems like filter seeing as any TV adaption wouldn't cover most of it anyway, so why even include it? If RS wants it over sooner than later, this isn't how you do it, she's just procrastinating now.
(15) I find Demeter in LO just confusing. If she’s so overbearing and controlling, why would she ever allow Persephone out of their domain to live with Artemis in the city? Even the most liberally easy going parents don’t let their naive children out into the world like that with people they barely know, yet the supposed helicopter parent does. Why not literally literally lock her up? Especially when Persephone can’t control her powers and is desperate to hide that she killed a village of people? Demeter knows she’s a danger to others yet let her out anyway? That doesn’t sounding overbearing to me. It sounds like she’s right to want to hide her away. Persephone is a bigger threat to everyone else than they are to her. More so, actual controlling parents do give their children phones to keep easy tabs on them, yet LO Demeter doesn’t? She could constantly call Persephone or check up on her without physically needing to be there, yet they don’t do that. What modern parent would let their child leave home without a way to contact them? If anything, she’s extremely loose on parenting her and lets Persephone do/have whatever she wants. The controlling helicopter parent premise too is undercut by the fact LO Demeter ends up being right in wanting to hide her daughter away because within a month of leaving home Persephone is drugged, kidnapped, threatened by several people, r*ped, blackmailed, is close to dropping out of school, attacked by shades, and had a mental/emotional breakdown, many of those things being linked to her future “caring” husband. I just don’t buy it. Demeter ends up looking correct by anyone who isn’t blinded by the rose colored glasses of HxP.
(16) If I'll ever bother to read LO I'll do so only to see how horrible exactly it is.
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soundofseventeen · 3 years
Text
We Belong Together (Part Two)
I’ll have you know that I have most of this written so updates will be consistent. To quote Nu’est, I’m in Trouble but I don’t care lmao.
Word count: 1265
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“Choi Seungcheol, I am about to make a copy of this key and give it to you so you can stop disrupting my sleep.” You leaned against the front door, more asleep than awake and tried to look annoyed at the four boys who showed up tonight. If anything though, you looked tired so there went any chance of being scary. “What are you in for now?”
“The electricity went out at the studio again,” Seungcheol admitted sheepishly.  “We were doing some things and then it was pitch black.”
“So naturally you decide to come here.”
“You said you owed me, and what better way to pay back the best kpop group you’ve ever seen than to spare us your lights and water?” He smiled brightly.
“Don’t you have to debut first in order to earn that title? Besides, I’m pretty sure the landlord already thinks it’s odd that I’m using a lot more things than usual?” You already knew you were gonna let them in but it was fun to watch him squirm because he’d lose his confidence as the team leader and resort to pouting and eventually begging.
“Come on! Once we’re famous, all utilities will go under my name and you’ll never have to pay anything again.”
“And what if you don’t make it work?”
“Then you’ll be helping us out of the kindness of your heart.”
“That kindness was used up the day I bought you those sodas.” For him and 12 others nonetheless. “Alright, but keep it down. I have to open in a few hours. Help yourselves to anything.”
“You’re not staying?” 
You shook your head, the door feeling more like a pillow the longer you stayed on it. “I trust you guys.” Not really, but you’ve seen them multiple times at the corner store you worked at although you mainly knew Cheol by name and you knew where to find them.
“I told you I had it covered,” he told the boys he was with. “Oh! Before I forget. Y/N, you’ve already met Vernon, but this is Soonyoung and Jihoon. They’re also in the group with us.”
The one named Soonyoung grabbed the boy next to him, throwing his arm around his shoulders. “Also known as Hoshi and Woozi, the best double duo you’ll ever see!”
“How redundant,” Jihoon said, shoving him off.
“Make yourselves at home,” you told everyone. “You’re welcome to everything I have and if I don’t have what you’re looking for then you can either suffer or go to the nearest store, but please lock up.” You were too tired for any other interactions other than to warn them to watch their steps. “Good night.”
And from there, your sleep vanished the moment you went back to bed. You couldn’t tell if the constant thump thumps or if the nonstop talking and snatching of things were more annoying but with every noise they made, you flipped on every side in hopes of drowning out everything. 
Every so often, Seungcheol would shush the boys and tell them in his equally loud voice, “Y/N is asleep! Be quiet before we all get kicked out!” which would’ve been sweet if you didn't have to be up in -quick phone glance- six hours and 43, no 42 minutes. Finally, you just kicked off your covers, found your slippers and opened your door as dramatically as possible. 
Seungcheol was on the floor, possibly dead, Hoshi (you applauded your brain for remembering his name, especially at this hour) attempting to resuscitate him, Hansol looking like he was about to kick him and Jihoon drumming on the couch to an unfamiliar rhythm. At hearing you, they looked up like deer caught in headlights.
“Were we too loud?” Seungcheol asked standing up quickly to dust himself off. “I’m sorry. We were working on our choreo and Jihoon was showing us the music.”
“What was that?” You asked. If they were gonna keep you up, they might as well tell you.
“Hopefully, our debut song.” Jihoon looked up at you, finally speaking to you. He started shaking his head, mumbling to himself. “This was wrong; I knew it. I have to call Bumzu, scrap everything. Soonyoung you might have to start over, I’m sorry. If you don’t like it, who knows how everyone’s gonna receive it….”
“Hyung, lay off the caffeine dude.” Vernon chuckled nervously. “No one outside of us has even heard the song. Don’t stress yourself out over nothing.”
“He’s right,” you spoke up. “I’m just confused why everyone is on the floor. I’m sure the song sounds great.” You offered him and them a reassuring smile. 
“It is great! They wrote the entire thing because our company can’t afford to give us good writers.” Soonyoung picked up a bag of popcorn, stuffing his face with it. “I came up with the dance for the same reason. I’m sure we can show you everything when it’s ready. Ow!” He glared at Jihoon who shrugged. “What was that for?!”
“Maybe you should shut up and not promise things you can’t deliver.”
“Oh come on! Even if we don’t debut, and that’s gonna be such a bitch to explain to my mom, we can at least show one person our hard work.”
“Don’t get it twisted.” Jihoon turned his attention back to you a little after Soonyoung begged you to let him take a shower and disappeared after showing you the routine. “He wants the world to acknowledge his talent, but if you can satisfy his ego, by all means, do so.” He sat back down on the couch with the heaviest sigh, and dug through one of the backpacks they brought until he found a notebook. He flipped through a few pages until he read something from it and tore it off. “This sounds stupid, anyways.”
“You guys can do it,” you offered him a half smile. You hesitantly sat next to him, putting some distance in there, while the other two raided your kitchen for food. “Don’t be so quick to take yourself out.” you nodded at the ring on his finger. “From what Seungcheol tells me, you busted your ass to make it this far. And personally, if you guys don’t debut because you didn’t didn’t give yourselves the chance, it’s gonna suck because I like seeing you guys while I’m at work, and occasionally here.” You stood up. “Good night...again.”
The dim lighting the boys provided gave you a glimpse of the peeling on a part of the wall, and when you noticed it, you sighed, knowing that the landlord wouldn’t let you paint over it if it wasn’t a certain white color. What you wouldn’t give to move right at that very moment.
Just before you shut the door, you snuck a peek at the four boys, smiling at their concentrated expressions.  Jihoon looked up from the notebook he was scribbling on at that moment, and caught your eye. So you did the most appropriate thing: you smiled at him, panicked because you wouldn’t have normally smiled at a stranger in your sleep deprived state, slammed your door with slightly more force than you intended to and fled to your bed, hiding under the covers so he wouldn’t find you. 
Little did you know that Jihoon drew a happy face on his sheet of paper, boosting his mood, finding some encouragement in your words and crossing out a couple of words and rewriting new lyrics, testing them out in his head, and once satisfied called his friend over. “Hey, Hoshi. Try singing this real quick.”
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a-hundred-jewels · 3 years
Text
cruel summer ch 12: i have these lucid dreams
Ao3 Wattpad
Summary: sabrina starr, pegasuses, and oh no! the fourth wall broke! do we have a carpenter in the audience?
Word Count: 9000 ish
Tags: Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Jane Penderwick, Rosalind Penderwick/Tommy Geiger, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Jane Penderwick, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Rosalind Penderwick, Skye Penderwick, Chiron (Percy Jackson), Martin Penderwick, Elizabeth "Batty" Penderwick, Elizabeth Penderwick (senior), Iantha Aaronson-Penderwick, Ben Aaronson-Penderwick, Nico di Angelo, Will Solace, Annabeth Chase, Jeffrey Tifton-McGrath, Percy Jackson, Demeter (Percy Jackson), Apollo (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood AU, Demigods, demeter!elizabeth penderwick, demeter!rosalind (second generation), demeter!batty (second generation), apollo!alec mcgrath, apollo!jeffrey (second generation), demeter!jane (second generation), demeter!skye (second generation), all of that's in no particular order, main focus is on jane because i love her and she's so so fun to write, tomsalind is there (and stuff will happen - i can't really say what, it will really be eventful though), yes of course there's solangelo, takes place right before Penderwicks In Spring, After Trials of Apollo, more tags to come??, Minor Swearing
Notes and Full Chapter below cut:
Hello everyone and welcome back! I'll admit, this is a little later today than I'd been planning to post (was hoping to get an early start), but hey! If the Puppet History season 4 finale can be late, then so can I!
First off, a massive massive thank you to waterbottle_stickers for being the best beta reader ever. This chapter would be a mess without you. Also, if you haven't already, please check out their enola holmes fic wherever you stray, i follow it's truly wonderful.
If you've been following me on tumblr, then you'll know that, in addition to reblogging an alarming quantity of good omens fanart, I've been making some plans for fics this month. The original plan from back in august was to post every day of the month, but... ahhh.... I just don't work that fast lmao. I'll have to be content with just posting a fair amount this month. Happy october! Anyway, stay tuned.
On this fine day, we've got two lovely QUEER fanfic recommendations that I'm very excited to share. Up first is one from the tumblr blog izzielizzie (which you should all absolutely check out! especially if you're into the one of us is lying fandom!). it centers around the skye/melissa pairing and their senior prom, which Skye is said to have only gone to last minute, and also wearing a lab coat, in a passage of the penderwicks at last. featuring some oblivious lesbians and also jane. once again a massive thanks to izzielizzie, as this fic is one of my favourites!. click here to take a look! (also keep an eye on her blog in general bc her penderwicks fics are awesome!)
The second fanfic is also one I'm very fond of, as it focuses on the siblinghood of skye and jane, which is one of my favourite topics on earth. check out rolling down the ancient high street by hanchewie/ramblemadlyon (tumblr and ao3 respectively) for the sibling antics of aroace skye and bisexual jane when the latter visits the former at her college in california! and, if you like it, ramblemadlyon has two other penderwicks fics from the past couple days that look fantastic as well, and that I look forward to reading.
This chapter is dedicated to my therapist, since I've decided this will be the month of oddly specific dedications. thank you for telling me to stop referring to cruel summer as my "trash baby" and help me recognize the true worth that it holds in my life.
Disclaimer: not my characters, you know the drill. Jeanne Birdsall and Rick Riordan are lucky ducks indeed. chapter title is (obviously) from "lucid dreams" by Juice WRLD.
FROM THE POV OF JANE PENDERWICK
The woods loomed around me, seeming as tall as buildings as they invited me in further. I took another step, the sharp pain of a pinecone digging into my foot barely registered in my mind. I kept walking. A crack sounded throughout the air, and, behind me, a tree splintered round its base and fell down, only inches away from crushing me dead, and completely blocking the path out.
Frightened, I began to run, looking for a way out of the forest. But no matter which way I went, there were only trees in front of me. Where was the path? Where was the grassy hill I had walked down to get in here in the first place. Had I even walked down that hill to begin with? Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure I remembered coming here. I wasn’t sure I remembered waking up this morning, or going to bed last night, or anything besides existing in the forest. Who was I? What was I doing here? How could I get out?
Panicking, I stood in the middle of a clearing, looking frantically at the trees around me, trying to find something familiar. Nothing. I was exhausted. How long had I been here? An hour? A day? A lifetime? I collapsed at the base of a tree, sobbing as I tried to remember. Something. Anything.
Then, a voice echoed around me. “Welcome,” it said, and my mind went black.
I bolt upright in bed, a scream halfway out of my throat. I clamp it back, not wanting to wake my cabinmates. Thin light whimpers through the window--enough for me to see my white-knuckle grip on the sheets, but not enough to pass as daylight.
What time is it?
Our cell phones don’t really work here--that was one of the first things Miranda told us when we arrived, and Batty’s been gleefully lording it over us that her Mp3 player will still play music and, like, function, while our smart phones recline sadly in our duffel bags. That being said, I don’t feel quite brave enough to get out of my bed just yet and tiptoe over to the big analog clock that Rio bought at a pawn shop in Colorado. Maybe my phone will at least show the time.
I reach under my bed and fumble for my duffel, hooking my pinky through the zipper loop and yanking it out onto my floor. My phone’s in the front pocket, buried under two pairs of headphones, several gum wrappers, and some strawberry leaves (?????). A piece of gum peels off the screen as I disentangle my phone, and I mentally chide my past self for being so messy.
My phone does not turn on. Big clock it is.
I tiptoe across the cold tile and peer around the tree.
5:45 .
Jesus Pagan Christ.
It’s too early to wake anyone up (as I think this, Batty lets out a snore to rival any crabby Tyrannosaurus Rex), so I wrap a blanket around myself like a criminally attractive burrito, and creep out onto the porch, with my notebook and pen tucked into my shirt.
As long as I live, I will never get tired of summer mornings. There’s something deeply lovely about the soft light of the still-sleepy, pink lemonade sun, the quiet anticipation of the cool air, damp from dew and preparing for the upcoming heat. At home in Cameron, Skye’s woken me up many an early morning to go for a run or do soccer drills or for a grueling “Seven Minute Workout Except You Don’t Follow The Rules And Torture Your Sister by Making It Actually A Forty-Nine Minute Workout.” (But it’s okay, I’m not bitter). But, as delightful as those experiences have all been, I don’t think Skye really gets it. The beauty of the summer morning is not what it can do for your workout schedule, but rather in its gentle softening of an otherwise boiling day. It is to be appreciated in the way that I am now, sitting curled up on this frighteningly creaky porch (I mean, seriously, who built this?) and calling up the Sabrina Starr section of my brain to try and write away the residual panic from my nightmare.
Sabrina sighed as the plane took off. She wasn’t sure if she should have followed the voice in her head telling her to come here. Saying it out loud--even just thinking it--made it sound ridiculous. A dream, a voice in her mind. Barely more than a whim.
Worse than that, Sabrina wasn’t even sure where this whim was taking her. On a napkin in her pocket, she’d scrawled everything she remembered about the dream from the night before. The dark sky, lit only with spiderwebs of lightning, the shadowy figure huddled on a beach and soaked through with rain. The voice crying for help.
And a name. Aeaea.
After she’d woken up, Sabrina had looked up Aeaea, too tired to fully connect why the name felt familiar. Her heart had sunk further after reading the Wikipedia entry, and a breath of hopelessness had left her lips. According to the internet, Aeaea was not a real place. It had been the island prison of Circe. Fiction wasn’t new to Sabrina, and neither was mythology (she recalled an adventure spent with a ghost called Rainbow from a few years back).
Fictional places, though, were another matter. How could she get somewhere if she didn’t know where she was going? Was she trusting her gut with too much this time?
Sabrina folded up the napkin and put it back in her pocket. There was no point in worrying about that now. She’d looked at enough maps to make a guess at where Aeaea might be if it was real. When she got there, she could get more information. Sabrina Starr had survived this long in her career of rescues and whims. She could survive one more adventure. Worst case scenario, she said to herself, I spend a few days running around for nothing and have to brush up on my Greek.
She repeated it to herself like a promise. Worst case scenario, worst case scenario… Eventually, tired out from all her anxieties, and from trying desperately not to worry about what would come next, Sabrina fell asleep.
FROM THE POV OF RACHEL ELIZABETH DARE
“Okay, I give up. Tell me what’s wrong.” Annabeth’s voice startles me away from my plate of eggs, which I had been pushing around with a fork. Anxiety bubbles in my throat, just as it had been since I woke up, and food just doesn’t sound like a good idea.
“I--what?”
Annabeth waves her hand impatiently. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve been talking to you for five minutes and I don’t think you’ve looked up once. Also you’re always hungry in the mornings, so unless you, like, ate an entire cow before I got here, this ,” she gestures to my uneaten eggs, “is unusual behaviour.”
I give her a look. Sometimes, I get the feeling that Annabeth exists as a part of multiple different dimensions at once, like she’s having four other conversations that I can’t hear, and is still ten steps ahead of me in the one I’m actually a part of.
Or maybe I’m just easy to read.
“Nothing’s wrong.” I don’t want to talk about it. “I’m fine.” I’m terrified.
Annabeth sighs. “Is this about the prophecy?”
“No,” I spear another piece of egg, and don’t eat it. “Maybe. Yes.” I feel like going back to my cave and staying there for the rest of my life. Waiting with a book and some paints for the prophecy to get bored and go away. Maybe I’d take Jane with me, or Nico, for some company. That sounds nice.
My plate is pulled away from me as I aim my fork again. “I can’t pay attention when you do that,” Annabeth huffs. I think I wouldn’t invite her to stay in my cave. She’s too on the nose when I want to mope. Then again, she says the same about me.
“Fine,” I turn and face her. “Let’s talk feelings.” Connor Stoll, who had been making his way towards our table, abruptly turns around and walks the other way. I should get Chiron to hire a therapist. Gods know we need it.
Further proving my point, Annabeth’s eyes widen a little, before she remembers it is I who will be spilling. (I make a point to corner her later. It’s a routine we have). “Wow. You broke fast.”
I nod. “I’m tired and you’re annoying.” (False. We both know it. Another routine). “Like you said, I’m nervous about the prophecy.”
Annabeth nods. “And?”
I frown. “What do you mean, and ? There’s no and.”
Annabeth frowns back at me. A mirror, a mime, an annoyance. The nerve to look disappointed in me. “I thought you were spilling, Red.”
I roll my head back and study the roof of the pavilion, which Annabeth designed, and slowly lean my head down to stare at the table. I really don’t want to have this conversation. I go along anyways. “I’m worried about Jane.”
Annabeth leans back, triumphant. “Ah, yes. Your girlfriend.”
Maybe if I try reeeeeeeally hard, I can activate the Oracle of Delphi and freak Annabeth out enough to make her go away. “ Not my girlfriend. You know that.”
“You called Percy my boyfriend for weeks before we actually officially decided.”
I wave my hand dissmissively. “That’s different, you guys were dancing around each other for like three years. You needed a bit of a push. Jane and I kissed once! Over a week ago! And nothing came of it.” We actually haven’t really talked about it. We’re in this sort of in-between zone where we spend a ton of time together, but don’t have a label for it. Honestly, it’s been nice.
Annabeth grins, apparently reading my thoughts. “You’ve been eating lunch with the Demeter cabin, like, every other day. I saw you doing archery together yesterday. Both of you were awful at it, but you stayed there for hours. I’ve never seen you focus on something that long outside of your paintings.”
I stare at the ceiling again. Maybe Annabeth designed it so that a single square foot of rock might fall down onto my head and relieve me from this conversation. “Yes, fine, we spend a lot of time together. But that doesn’t make us a couple, and has nothing to do with what I’m actually worried about!” I can see in her face that Annabeth is more serious now, and is about to fully listen to me, when Percy and Malcolm show up, sliding into the seats across from us, and clanging several plates of pancakes down onto the table in front of them.
“Made them ourselves! Wanna share?” Percy gives Annabeth heart eyes and a kiss on the cheek when she folds a large blue pancake into thirds and bites it like a burrito. I roll my eyes at them because they are a horrifying and disgusting couple and also I kind of want to be them when I grow up. Malcolm ignores them, instead turning to me. “Were you talking about Jane?” he asks, pushing wire rimmed glasses up his nose.
I frown. “Sort of. Why?”
He shrugs, sheepish. “You know. Just, uh, just wondering.”
I narrow my eyes at him, then Percy, who tears himself away from looking at Annabeth to sigh dramatically. “Malcolm wants to ask out Jane’s sister. You know, the blond one.”
I snort. “ Skye? Seriously?”
Malcolm looks vaguely offended. “What’s so weird about that?”
“Sorry, it’s not weird.” I reach over the table to pat him on the shoulder with my fork. “Perfectly normal teenage hormones.” He glares at me and I smile sweetly back. “I just can’t imagine Skye going out with anyone, that’s all.”
Malcolm stares down at his pancake, disappointed. “Oh. You sure?”
I nod, feeling a little more normal with my friends and less doom-related breakfast conversation. My eggs are past the threshold of “warm and appetizing” but I take a bite anyway. “Pretty sure. Jane told me that she’s aroace and, based on past occurrences, there’s a seventy percent chance she’ll punch anyone who asks her out. Anyway, why the interest? I didn’t know you guys talked.”
Malcolm shrugs. “We don’t, really. She just seems cool.”
Percy pipes in, “He’s been practically obsessed with her since she won that soccer game against the Nike kids and made them cry.”
I nod approvingly. “Well, Malcolm, at least we know you have good taste.”
Annabeth pats him on the head, ignoring his complaints that her hand is covered in blue maple syrup. “Better luck next time, brother of mine.”
Piper and Leo join us next, contributing an alarming volume of grapes and a single hardboiled egg to the breakfast display. Leo grabs a pancake and wraps it around some grapes, before taking a big bite. “I hear you’re discussing Malcolm’s romantic failures,” he says around the world’s worst breakfast burrito. Piper gasps in mock offense, then swallows the unpeeled hardboiled egg whole, like a snake. (This is a regular morning routine. She’s trying to work up to being a sword swallower, since her dad did it in a movie once and she thought it looked like fun). “ Malcolm, why didn’t you come to me? I could have given you a verdict within five minutes!”
“I wanted advice on whether I should ask out that Heaphestus boy two weeks ago and you told me to fuck off.”
Piper pouts at him. “That’s on you, you caught me at a bad time.”
Annabeth holds up a pancake with the air of a respected royal and we turn to her. “As delightful as this is, Rachel and I were initially talking about her romantic prospects and also her worries and fears, and I feel that we should get back to that before she slinks off and avoids the rest of the conversation.”
I glare at her. “Why would you bring this away from the very nice conversation we were having about everyone else’s problems? Do you hate me?” Annabeth rolls her eyes. “No, dumbass, I’m just not letting you walk away from a potential breakthrough. Now, where were we? You were saying that you’re worried about Jane but it has nothing whatsoever to do with your relationship, or lack thereof.”
I give a long suffering sigh, and try to communicate telepathically with Piper that she needs to Save Me Now, but she’s looking at me in interest with her chin resting in her hands, her long fingers adorned with rings sent to her from her Mortal girlfriend, Shel, who bought them at a vintage punk store. The traitor. Defeated, I turn back to Annabeth.
“It’s just that, whatever ends up happening with this prophecy, I don’t want it to fuck her up, in the way the quests have sometimes done to us. Like, we’re used to this by now, but it hasn’t been a smooth road. I don’t exactly like going on quests, and at first I was really worried at the prospect of being included in a prophecy, since that’s fairly abnormal, but Jane was only made aware of her heritage a couple months ago! What if this turns out like Silena or Beckendorf or-or Jason, and the prophecy destroys her, and it’s all my fault because I’m the one who pulled her into all this?”
Everyone tenses up at the mention of Jason, but they continue to look at me with a mixture of concern and love that makes something soften inside of me. For the hundredth time, I think of how lucky I am to have these people who love me unconditionally. Even if they really, really need therapy.
“I know that I didn’t plan any of this, but we’re both tied in now, especially since both Chiron and I had the prophetic dream and I actually gave the prophecy that day in the woods, and, well, this isn’t her world yet. She’s only got a little bit of ichor in her, and she grew up knowing nothing of any of this. In a way, I did too, and I have no ichor, but I had clear sight. For me, it was ineffable, but she could technically leave any time, if it weren’t for the prophecy. She can leave, and I feel like it’s up to me to make sure that doesn’t change.”
“Oh, Rachel.” Annabeth reaches her arms out to me and I let myself be pulled into an embrace. “Jane’s going to be okay. We’ll make sure of it.”
Sabrina stood in line at the boat rental hut, her arms crossed and a frown plastered on her face. It had not been a successful afternoon. For hours, she’d been searching the coastal towns near where her plane landed, looking for some trace of Aeaea, or anything else she’d seen in her dream. She was used to working with dregs. It was normal for her to have to squint a little at the evidence, have to shuffle things together around big holes of “Maybe,” like she was working a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing.
But this was something else.
Sabrina had read about places where mythology shaped the culture. Places where the tourist draws were events that had supposedly happened thousands of years ago, or creatures that only existed in grainy photographs and people’s imaginations. Hell, she’d met the Loch Ness monster. Was it insane for her to have assumed she’d be able to find the same kind of thing here? All her training and years of experience had told her that, if you sniff around long enough, you’ll find a conspiracy theorist or a slightly off-the-rails guidebook.
So far, though, Sabrina had found nothing. Absolutely nothing. She hunted around, searching up library catalogs, checking every store on the street. “Aeaea,” “Circe,” even “the Odyssey.”
Nothing.
The line edged along slowly, and Sabrina ran her hands up and down her arms. The air was chilly from its proximity to the cold sea water. There were three people in front of her now. She just had to wait a little longer, then she would have a boat and be able to explore these waters herself.
Something was wrong with this place. Something was wrong with all of these places. And Sabrina was going to figure out what.
Later, Jane and I are taking our time walking to the pegasus stables to watch the riding lesson that Rosalind has reluctantly agreed to let Batty take (provided that Percy, who’s teaching today, doesn’t let her fly high enough that she’ll die if she falls off, and that Batty wears all of the necessary protective gear). Jane looks lovely, wearing a sunshine-y yellow bandana that sets off her dark curls and warm sepia skin. She has on her Camp Half-Blood shirt again, and a short green skirt, and all of it should clash horribly, but it doesn’t.
We’ve decided to cut through the strawberry fields, and I swallow a sun-warmed strawberry while Jane tells me about the dream she had last night. I think back to my conversation with Annabeth this morning when she tells me of the dark woods and the feeling of drowning, the memory warping and the echoing voice. At some point we sit down in a patch of grass, a simple circle amidst strawberry plants with a couple logs where the campers and satyrs take their breaks when they work here. Jane finishes her story and we sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, only broken by the grunts of annoyance Jane makes while trying to get her plant powers to activate again. She’s been doing that a lot.
“Well that sucks,” I say finally. “Have you been having other dreams like it?”
Jane shrugs, the neon orange fabric of her shirt wrinkling on her shoulders. “One or two, I think. Last night’s was the first one I really remembered. ” She smiles out of the corner of her mouth. “I hardly ever remember my dreams. It used to upset me. I thought I was losing potential writing material.”
I laugh. It’s such a Jane thing to think, that I can’t help it. She goes quiet, like she’s reminiscing, and I picture a tiny version of Jane, sitting crossed-legged on her summer quilt, writing. I look at her now, scrunched up nose and big brown eyes. Oh gods, she must have been an adorable child.
“My mother used to say that my imagination was the eighth wonder of the world,” Jane says. She’s looking down the hill at the cabins, plant powers temporarily forgotten, and I remember her telling me about her mother, the first Elizabeth Penderwick, who came here and was a daughter of Demeter and loved opera. The Penderwick siblings’ beloved mother who died so young.
I move closer to Jane on the log. “I can understand why she’d say that.”
Jane smiles again, a little sad this time, a little absent, but full to the brim with love.
“Bet you she’s in Elysium,” I say softly. I explained the Underworld to Jane a couple weeks ago, and she’d gotten this same absent look on her face, that I now know means she’s thinking about her mother. Jane nods, now, then turns to me. “Could we talk about something else?” Her voice is quiet, her eyes a little shiny.
“Course,” I say. “Shall I regale you with tales of dimwittery at this camp in the years past?” I told her last week about the time some Hermes kids tried to order pizza to the camp, accidently causing Chiron to think we were under attack. Jane had nearly fallen off the bench laughing.
She grins now, but shakes her head. “Tell me what it’s like being an Oracle.” I give her a look. She’s asked me before and I never really know what to say. When I give prophecies, it’s like I black out. I’m taken over by another entity who shares my body. (“Like that lady in Suicide Squad ,” Leo had said when I tried to explain it to him once, but I’d refused to be compared to such a gods-fucking-awful movie). So, in a way, I don’t know what it’s like to be the Oracle.
As if reading my thoughts, Jane shakes her head. “Not that part. I’ve seen you all green and smokey, and I know you can’t feel it. I mean the other stuff. How did you know it was you? What did you have to do to become the Oracle? That kind of thing.” I relax a little. Jane’s asked me all sorts of weird questions about Greek mythology and the gods recently. She calls it “research for her book,” but sometimes I think she’s just nosy. It’s cute.
Jane shrugs and looks off into the distance. If you tilt your head a little you can kind of see the stables from here. We have fifteen more minutes to get there, according to my watch. I decide to take it easy. “Delphi is this weird ethereal spirit,” Jane continues, “but there’s also just everyday, Oracle you, who likes paint and denim and bagels.” At that, I laugh. “I actually don’t like bagels that much. I’m just late to breakfast so often that they’re usually the only things available.”
Jane pouts at me and plays with the bracelet tied around my wrist--the one she gave me. “You know what I mean! You know all this weird shit about me because my siblings don’t shut up at lunch, and I know stuff about you, like the denim thing, which I still think is funny by the way. But you’re also the freaking Oracle! Your dormant self lies waiting!” I laugh at her, and she rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her mouth tilting up. “Rachel, that’s very cool!”
I give in. “Honestly, there’s not much to say, that’s why I don’t talk about it.” I pause. “Well no, it’s that a lot of the stuff beyond the obvious is actually sort of creepy and weird, and not in a good way. There’s stuff I try not to think about, is what I mean.”
The edge of her yellow bandana sticks up as Jane tilts her head at me. “That makes sense. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
I shake my head. “No, it feels okay right now.” I mean it. Now that I’ve gotten into the swing of it, I do want to talk about it. Still, a small sigh escapes me. “I like being the Oracle, because that’s what brought me to a place where I feel like I belong and I have people who love me. It’s nice to know that I’m fulfilling my purpose in life.”
Jane pulls her knees up to her chest. “But?”
“But I also get lonely.” It comes out in a rush. “There are other oracles, but I didn’t know about any of them until the Apollo thing happened, and even then, they’re all supernatural beings--I know, I know, but not in the way I am. It’s not the same. Also, there are all these weird rules. Like I have to stay an unmarried virgin my whole life.”
“That’s fucked,” Jane says softly.
“I know! Chiron won’t even tell me why, just that it’s ‘the rules’” I let out an annoyed huff. “And, like, it’s not even that the idea itself bothers me. That’s pretty much what I was planning to do with my life anyway.”
“Same.”
“But it’s the principle of the thing!” I flick a strand of hair out of my face, offhandedly noticing that the tip of my pinky finger is slightly green. I ignore it. It’s not important. “Just because I don’t want to have sex or get married doesn’t mean it’s a fair rule to impose on me! Besides, why is it always the women in these things whose identities are tied up in who they do or don’t fuck? Last I checked, Grover didn’t have to sign an ‘I shalt not fornicate’ contract when he became Lord of the Wild!”
“Exactly!” Jane raises her hands and shouts up to the sky. “Don’t you fuckers realize we’re more than that?”
“The Hunters of Artemis, too!” I’m a jack-in-the-box, and something’s winding me up. “Thalia and Reyna send me letters all the time, and they seem really happy! Which is great!” I pause to emphasize the greatness of their happiness. My pinky is completely green, now. “But, they also had to make a stupid ‘ode of chastity,’ like I did!”
“Are you kidding me?” Jane’s hair flips as she turns to me. “I thought Artemis was one of the good ones!”
My voice lowers to a husky rumble, and I stare into the distance towards you, the reader. “In a broken system, there are no good ones. Abolish the police.” I clear my throat and my voice turns back to normal. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.” My green pinky has begun to vibrate.
“Happens to the best of us,” Jane’s voice is light and nonchalant. “And yeah, I know. Pretty much all of the gods have skeletons sitting on their shoulders, but it just seems out of character for her. I thought all of Artemis’s groups were supposed to be safe havens, not oppressive structures in their own right.”
I frown. “Yeah you’re right, that is weird. I’d never thought of it much beyond the gods having weird rules, but I wonder if something bigger is at play. The gods might be fucked up in the way that regular people are, and are undoubtedly responsible for all sorts of crap. But then there's more personal things, like the ‘chastity vows’ the Hunters and I had to take, and the fact that Nico was initially outed by Eros, and the weird unexplained eye condition that Piper had during some of her quests that made her eyes a bunch of bright, Eurocentric colors, rather than their natural brown. All sorts of other stuff, too.”
“Wow!” Jane says, sitting up straight on the grass. Her hand moves from where it was resting in her lap to cover her heart. “It’s almost like a bunch of genuinely good and inspiring material, such as including prominent queer people and characters of color in fun children’s fantasy, as well as having an immortal group of warrior women who support each other and are free from the gaze of men, was taken into the hands of a cis white man armed with unchecked misogyny and a fair amount of white Twitter feminism, both of which really showed when he tried to create an inclusive and empowering book series for children! Like yeah, it had its moments, and definitely some good characters, but overall, a lack of meaningful research in certain areas really made it fall flat!” Once again, I stare through the bindings of URLs and internet coding, now joined by Jane as we lock eyes with you, the reader. This time, we hold eye contact for nearly a minute, giving you time to read and process the long tangent spat out by this fanfic’s author, who, if we’re being honest, has gone just a tad off the rails right now. Finally, Jane and I look away from you, and resume our roles as fictional characters, still shaking off that strange cloud that comes with staring into the soul of those who give you life.
“Ugh, what’s going on with me today?” Jane groans at the same time I mutter, “What’s Twitter?” We turn to each other, blinking in the sunlight, then grin. This is normal. We’re fine. Jane looks up at the sky again. “I wonder if the gods are watching us. Maybe we should make them think we suck so they’ll leave you alone.”
I laugh as she sticks her tongue out, grinning wickedly at a nearby cloud. “Better yet, make them think we’re too powerful to be messed with,” I say. Jane sees me watching her and opens her mouth, sucking the cloud in between her teeth. The sky seems bluer in the space where it had been, and Jane’s eyes glitter with mirth as she swallows. “Mmm, tastes like sugar.” I giggle, feeling a small shiver on the top of my head. When I peer up, I see another cloud has floated over to me. I open my own mouth, and take it in, just as Jane did hers. “Sugar, yes. But there’s a touch of blood, too,” I say. Jane nods sagely. “What were we talking about?”
“The inherent misogyny in much of Greek mythology and the world of Camp Half-Blood in general.”
Jane nods again. “Right. A very important topic. It makes it weird when I’m writing sometimes. You know, cause I want to bring in Circe and Zeus and Apollo and all these fascinating characters, but there’s just so much bad stuff tied up with them that comes up when I research.” She looks down at our feet, which are standing in the midst of a strawberry patch. We seem to have been walking, crushing sweet summer strawberries as we go, which is odd because I don’t remember getting up. “You know Rachel, I’m feeling a bit strange.”
I look at her, and see an odd blankness in her warm brown eyes. “Now that you mention it, Jane, so am I.”
“My thoughts and words are my own,” Jane says, “But there’s something up with my body. I can’t really feel it.”
“I agree, I’ve honestly gone a bit numb.” I try to glance down at my fingers, wondering idly if they’ve gotten any more green, but find that my neck won’t bend.
Jane’s eyebrows furrow. “Yet, at the same time, I feel as though I could do anything. Grow another grass blade. Grow a flower. Grow a tree. Bend the world to my will if I wanted to.”
“Or is it the world bending me to its will.” I grin at my own philosophical point, but find that the smile won’t go away. Pretty fucking inconvenient, since the next thing I was going to bring up was part of the whole serious misogyny conversation. I decide to go for it anyway. “And I’m not the only one with weird rules!” Jane nods, as if this is a perfectly normal segway, and the only extraneous thought that floats through my mind as we find ourselves walking down a hill is how unfair it is that she still has control over her neck and I don’t. “Remember when I told you about the Hunters of Artemis?”
“Oh yeah! Your friends Reyna and Thalia, right?”
“Yeah, them! They send me letters sometimes, and seem really happy, which is great.” I pause, meaning to add emphasis, when I’m hit with a great sensation of deja-vu. “Wait a second, we already talked about this, didn’t we?” I try to remember, but something in my mind is rapidly melting. I cannot find it. I cannot find anything.
“Jane?” My voice quivers, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Oh gods, please let this be a dream. For a moment, I try to convince myself that it’s the Oracle of Delphi taking over, just like she did the other day and generally does a couple times a year. But I know that I’m lying. This is not what that feels like. “Jane, where are you?” I can barely move my mouth to say the words. I can feel nothing but the frozen fear of paralysis, of lost control. When I open my eyes, this other thing in my body has brought me to the edge of the forest. “Jane? Jane?” She could be right beside me, unable to speak, and I wouldn’t know because I can’t turn my head, can’t move my eyes, can barely even hear right now.
It’s okay, something says.
“Jane?” It’s not her voice. It’s no one’s voice.
It’s okay. You’re home.
With every cut the wooden oars made through the choppy ocean water, Sabrina knew she was getting closer. She could feel it in her bones, in her brain, a little voice that whispered in her ear. It had been three hours. Her body was worn down, energy levels dipping dangerously low, when she felt something scrape the bottom of her boat.
A rock.
Frantically, she peered through the fog that had begun to surround her boat a mile ago. The island. Had she finally made it?
As if answering her call, a peel of thunder rang out, and Sabrina’s boat began to fill with rain that pounded down from the sky. The storm from her dream. She rowed even faster, then, fear sparking a renewed strength in her tired muscles.
Just as Sabrina was about to reach the shore, a massive wave crashed over her, and her boat capsized. She came back up, sputtering, holding her sopping wet bag above her head. Another wave swept against Sabrina’s face, and she found herself spitting out a mouthful of saltwater. Finally, she washed up on the shore, heaving breaths raking through her lungs.
Sabrina blinked, pushing herself up onto her elbows. It was real. She was here.
She had made it.
FROM THE POV OF ROSALIND PENDERWICK
It’s been a pleasant day so far. Breakfast with my siblings and some of the Demeter cabin (though Jane did seem a bit absent-minded). Miranda, Florien, and Rio convinced me to practice some plant magic with them for a couple hours and I built up to growing a small sunflower. Lunch (again with Jane seeming distracted, though Rachel ate with us this time, which appeared to help). Then, Skye and Jeffrey disappeared with some of the older campers (supposedly for a regular game of soccer, but the unsettling gleam in their eyes had me doubting that was all there was too it), Jane and Rachel went to take a walk in the strawberry fields, and Batty and I were left to prepare for a pegasus riding lesson. If it had been up to Batty, the latter could have easily taken up the entire afternoon, but changing into durable pants and finding a bandana can only take so long.
After a somewhat restless hour, during which I grew three peonies and Batty rhapsodized about the stable of unicorns that another demigod camp apparently has, Batty and I arrive at the stable. We’re ten minutes early, and she’s been talking a mile a minute the whole time, not stopping from before. I swear I now know as much about pegasuses as she does. According to Rachel, the teacher today is Percy, her friend, who’s very responsible “when he puts his mind to it.” I wasn’t sure how to tell her that’s actually not very comforting, but Batty looked so excited and I figured there will be plenty of other people there, so. Why not. She’s been spending so much time there anyway.
Needless to say, I very much regret my decision now.
The stables are modest, made of wood and painted green, and I’ve been there several times by now. There’s a long line of stalls visible when we first walk in, but Batty skips straight to the far end, where a massive pegasus the color of a carrot pokes its head over the door and nuzzles Batty’s hair. She looks up at me with a smile that could melt anyone’s heart, and pats the horse on the nose. “Rosy, this is Queen Lotus Flower. Percy said we have a impenetrable bond.”
I look at the two of them with a questioning gaze. How can they both have the exact same puppy-dog eyes? I swear to god. The gods. All of them. “Batty, sweetheart. That horse is like ten feet tall.”
She nods enthusiastically. “I know, she’s so much taller than any other horse I’ve seen. Percy says she has the biggest wingspan of any horse at camp.”
I nod, slowly, wondering why my sister picked the biggest pegasus to fall in love with. At that moment, Percy pushes the door open. “Hey Batty! Ready for your lesson?” Batty leaves her post by Queen Lotus Flower to wrap her arms around my waist and nod. I look Percy over. He’s a few inches taller than me, with brown skin and curly hair. A beaded camp necklace, orange tshirt, and jeans. Weird arm tattoo aside, he’s one of the most normal-looking people at camp. I’ve only met him a couple times before, but, my nerves over Batty flying around on massive horses aside, I do trust him. Rachel seems to have a good taste in friends. Also, Batty likes him, and she’s still shy around a good number of Skye and Jane’s friends back in Cameron.
For the next few minutes, I watch as Percy instructs Batty on buckling Queen Lotus Flower’s giant saddle and looping the bridle over her nose. Not wavering a bit from the “lesson” aspect of all this, he steps back to let her show what she’s already learned from hanging around the stables so often, only stooping in to guide her when she gets confused. As the minutes tick by, more people show up for the lesson: three other students, and a good sized crowd of people who just like watching the pegasuses. By then, I’m seated on the grass outside the stables, soaking in the blistering sun and watching as Percy (seated atop a wiry black pegasus who Batty pointed out as Blackjack) darts around the large dusty enclosure, making final preparations for the lesson.
Skye and Jeffrey show up then, and sit on either side of me. I want to ask them where Jane and Rachel are, but they’re talking non-stop about a game they just played in the woods with some of the other campers, only switching the subject when Percy and Blackjack return and they begin discussing whether or not it should be scientifically possible for a horse to fly.
Just as Batty and Queen Lotus Flower begin a gentle trot around the enclosure, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and hear the familiar sound of Tommy’s chuckle. “She’s got a weird knack for that,” he says. I nod, grinning.
It’s been good with us. We’ve had breakfast together a few times, even played a game of basketball one afternoon. Our conversations aren’t the same as they used to be, and there’s a sense of newness that feels cold and strange every so often. But it’s good. It feels right. At least for now, this feels like where we’re supposed to be.
As Percy starts demonstrating how to take flight, I look around again. Jane and Rachel still aren’t here. They promised to come. (“For moral support!” Jane had said. “Wouldn’t miss it,” Rachel had added with a smile). I try to push it out of my head. This lesson is a big deal. Batty’s going to be flying.
She leans forward on Queen Lotus Flower’s neck.
They begin to run, moving together like a single being.
Just as they burst into the air, Batty’s euphoric smile lighting up the sky, Katie grabs my shoulders from behind. I shush her so I can lean forward and watch Batty silhouetted against the pegasus’s wide orange wings.
“Rosalind. Rosalind, guys. ” Something about the panic in Katie’s voice makes me turn around. Her usually tied back hair is loose and her clothes rumpled, giving the impression that she was dragged out of bed for this. (Some part of my brain distantly remembers her saying she was going to take a nap). Skye and Jeffrey turn around, too.
“What, what’s happening?” I reach out my hands, trying to calm her as she collapses into a squat, breathing heavily.
“Billie… found me in the cabin… had been looking for you guys… been running all over the camp… lucky I remembered about the riding lesson…”
Jeffrey leans over and puts his hands on her shoulders. She stares down at the dirt while her breathing levels.
“Katie, what are you saying? Why were you and Billie looking for us?”
She looks up, and I see that her forehead is drawn into well-worn creases of worry. “Jane and Rachel have gone into the woods.”
Something was wrong. Sabrina crouched on the wet sand, straining to see through the heavy rain. In her dream there had definitely been someone else on the island. She remembered the hunched figure, the sound of sobs leaking through the rain.
But she’d circled the shore at least twice by now, and there was nobody to be found. “Am I late or something?” she wondered aloud. Somehow, she’d gotten that dream It felt like it had been sent to her. Why did it show a person when there was no one?
Sabrina sighed and began to traipse inland, tucking a knife in her pocket. It wasn’t a big island, and she might as well find some shelter aside from her boat, which was now overturned somewhere on the beach. Circe lived here, didn’t she? There must be some sort of roof, especially if this kind of weather was standard.
Or maybe this was just a random island and there was no Aeaea and Sabrina’s dream had just been the unhinged work of her unconscious mind.
There was a small grassy hill set aside from the sand, which Sabrina crawled up with the determination of a dying warrior. Something was pushing her back. An invisible force, a last crumb of survival instinct, plain old fatigue, she wasn’t sure. But something wanted her out of here, and it pushed back harder and harder as she climbed.
She let out a cry of frustration, clawing at the ground, at the air, at whatever this goddamn thing was, and found a renewed burst of strength that pulled her to the top of the hill. Once there, the force that pushed back ebbed a little, like it was giving up. Sabrina let herself relax, and simply took in the view for a moment.
The hill she lay on top of gave way to a deep valley, sprawling and green. In one corner, there was a cluster of trees that looked healthy and comfortable, despite being on a random Greek island in the middle of the ocean. A modest garden lay next to it, somehow appearing unaffected by the rain, and a narrow river wound around the whole scene.
There was also a house.
Sabrina wasn’t sure what she might have expected from the lair of an infamous Greek enchantress, but it wasn’t this.
She hauled herself up on the hill and started down, rushing through the rain onto a wide wooden porch. There was a large stone vat of something dark and crumbly, with a heavy looking staff of sorts leaning against it. The door to the house was short, and Sabrina heard it scrape on the floor when she pushed it open.
The scene awaiting her was surprisingly cozy when she stepped inside. There was a fire in the hearth and rows upon rows of little viles arranged on a set of shelves beside it. A broom leaned against the wall. Sabrina looked around, noting the way that the rain didn’t make any sound as it thrashed against the roof and window, and the almost drug-like stupor that threatened to take over her brain, whispering that everything was fine, she was safe, nothing bad could happen to her.
Sabrina had encountered hypnosis before, and it only ever made her more jittery.
There was an open hatch in the floor with stairs that lead into darkness. She followed them down, feeling the air grow cooler with every step. Sabrina was quiet, taking tiny steps on her toes, and wincing when one of the stairs creaked. She didn’t know what was down there, and she didn’t want to find out the hard way. But there were no arrows flying up from the space below, no sounds of footsteps or slashes of swords.
Sabrina stepped onto a dirt floor and let herself exhale, shuffling along until her toe hit something hard. Only seasoned reflexes made her reach for the knife in her pocket instead of crying out in fear. She knelt down and squinted in the darkness, trying to see what she’d hit.
A leg.
She frowned, shaking it until she heard a low growl. “Stop that.” She stopped.
“Who are you?” Sabrina leaned closer. If they hadn’t killed her yet she was probably safe.
Instead of answering, they reached out a hand. Sabrina could see a gold ring on the thumb that glinted in a little sliver of light that had crept down from the room above. “Pull me up,” the figure said. “I’ve been paralyzed by the witch.”
Helping the stranger sit turned out to be no simple feat. They were tall and muscular, wearing a cape and a heavy metal chest plate. “The witch?” she questioned, propping them up against one of the cellar’s dirt walls. Her eyes were beginning to adust to the dark, and she could just make out their sharp chin sticking out as their head lolled back.
The figure made a noise. “The witch, the sorceress, the woman. Whatever you want to call her. I figure she sent you down too?” They snorted. “Good luck. I told Zeus not to sent mortals, but does he ever listen? You’re gonna die.”
Sabrina tried to piece together what she could from all this. The witch must be Circe, unless she’d wound up on an entirely different island. And if Circe was going around paralyzing people, then something must be going on. She must be hiding something. As for the person in front of her, Sabrina wasn’t sure who they were. By the way they talked about Zeus, and casually said “mortals,” she’d guess some sort of god? As if that narrowed it down. She’d have to be careful.
“Why did she paralyze you?”
Another weird gutteral noise. “She didn’t like my offer. It’s not the first time this has happened.”
She was growing impatient. Why’d he have to be so vague? “What?”
“Yeah, I don’t know why he always sends me. I don’t think he trusts me. He’d rather me stay her paralysed in the basement of a witch than come back home.”
Sabrina let out an exasperated sigh. This wasn’t working and she needed answers. A whole coast of people with mythology-shaped holes in their memories awaited her. “You’re going to need to be a little more specific. I don’t think we’re on the same page.”
The figure sounded confused. “What do you mean? Don’t you know who I am?”
She leaned forward and inspected them in the darkness. “No. No I don’t.”
They slid their eyes down to her face. “I am the god Apollo. I came here for Circe and she did this to me.”
“What? Why?”
The stairs creaked behind Sabrina and she felt a long nail drag up her back. “I just want to be left alone,” said a voice as deep and powerful as the smell of red wine. “You don’t mind, do you?” Before Sabrina could grab her knife and turn around, before she could even scream, strong arms had surrounded her shoulders and a hand was clamping a damp cloth over her nose and mouth. Shock made her breath in, sharply, and she smelled the sweetness of sleeping drugs.
A heartbeat, a brief struggle, and Sabrina Starr was gone.
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versdan · 4 years
Text
Photograph (College!Carol Danvers x Reader)
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summary: Stumbling across certain photographs makes you reminice about how you met the love of your life.
a/n: this is for @marvelouslytrekking ‘s writing challenge!! Congrats again babes! This was super fun to right as well, I freakin’ love college au’s lmao. It’s sorta like looking back on the college years. Anywho! I hope you guys enjoy & sorry for any typos! Requests are open! <3
pairings: Carol Danvers x F!Reader
au: College
flashbacks are in italics
please don’t plagerize/repost my work! x
————
You walked into your room, holding a pile of folded boxes, mapping out where you were going to start first since you had a lot of belongings. Sighing, you placed the boxes on the floor before making your way over to your bed, folding up the sheets to pack first.
You were currently packing to move into a shared apartment with your girlfriend Carol. After being together for a few years, you both decided it would be the right time for it. You both had met in college, starting out as friends until it got serious towards the end of your four years where you both realized it was a mutual feeling of love between the both but of course, all of your friends knew this.
Looking under the bed to make sure you didn’t forget to pack anything important from under there, you saw a small wooden box pushed towards the back of the bed, near the wall. Confused, you reached under and pulled it out, placing it ontop of the bed when the memory of what this box was flooded into your head.
You had bought this box during the beginning of your sophomore year, wanting to put the most memorable moments of college to keep forever. Smiling to yourself, you opened the box and the first thing ontop was a picture that Carol had taken of you, making a silly face next to a statue. The memory of that night flooded your mind.
-
You laughed at something Carol said when you looked up and saw the statue of the university’s first president and you got the best idea, or so you thought. You climbed up, Carol watching and making sure you wouldn’t fall off.
“Can I ask what you’re doing or...” Carol asked, standing behind you as you climbed up successfully and stood next to the statue. You looked down at Carol and nodded.
“I’m just hanging out with my boyfriend, ya know, nothing too weird” you joked, grabbing onto the hand of the statue as you let out a giggle. You both were on your way back to the dorms after a party and to say you weren’t a bit tipsy would be a lie.
“Seems picture worthy, can I? You know, for the memory” Carol joked back as you let out a laugh and nodded your head. She reached into her bag and pulled out a disposable camera you and her had bought, wanting to capture any moment. Snapping the picture, she put the camera away and helped you down before looking at you. You stopped smiling and looked back at her.
“What?” You asked, looking from her eyes to her lips as she was mimicking the same move. Before words left her mouth, it began to pour rain on the both of you. Gasping, you screamed grabbing Carol’s hand and running back to the dorms.
Carol wanted to kiss you in that moment. The moment you seemed so care free and that was the moment she knew she had fallen hard for you.
-
Smiling, you pushed the picture to the side and saw a photo booth picture strip of you, Carol and Wanda and this was when you first had realized you had developed feelings for Carol.
-
“That movie was a bust” Wanda sighed, taking a sip of her drink before tossing it in the trash.
“Just because you hid your face the entire time, doesn’t mean it was a bust” you laughed at her as she rolled her eyes and nudged your shoulder. You three had just watched a horror movie that only you and Carol agreed on and dragged Wanda to watch.
“Come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t love the jumpscares!” Carol said, poking Wandas side as she jumped slightly before hitting her shoulder as well.
“You both know how much I hate scary movies. I can’t believe I got roped into it” she sighed, looking around before her face lit up at the sight of a photo booth.
“Ooo! Can we please take pictures?” She asked, turning to you both as you looked at each other. You shrugged your shoulders at Carol, taking a sip from your drink, smiling before she looked at Wanda.
“Come on, this can be you making it up to me for dragging me to watch that movie” she smiled at Carol as she sighed.
“Alright, I guess” Carol said as Wandas smile grew before she dragged you both to the photo booth, squeezing inbetween you, before pressing the button to start the pictures.
The first two were silly faces, all three of you laughing at how weird you guys looked. You had put up two fingers behind Wandas head during the second picture which caused her to gasp and laugh at the gesture. The third picture was a serious picture or how Wanda had said a “model” pose. After the picture was taken, you all couldn’t decide on the next pose to do.
“Let’s just smile, can’t go wrong with a smile” Wanda said, posing for the picture as the countdown started. You looked over to Carol who was already looking at you as you both smiled at each other as the picture snapped. Looking down, you looked at te screen that said the pictures were being printed which luckily three strips were going to be printed for each of you to keep.
Grabbing the strips, you were looking over the photos as you saw the last one and you felt you stomach do a small flip. It had captured the perfect moment between you both which made you smile softly.
“You lovebirds just took over the last picture while I looked this cute” Wanda said, looking at the photo strip and winking at you. You looked over to Carol who looked at you before looking down and blushing slightly.
-
You felt as if you were reliving every single moment while going through the small box. Everything in here held a memory you knew you were grateful for, even if you were a bit older now and things were changing.
You continued to look through the box when you found a concert ticket and wristband from the night that you and Carol finally got together. Finally admitted your feelings for each other
-
Walking into the small venue, you and Carol had decided to take the night after finals week to go see a small band at the venue near campus. It was also your final semester before going into your senior year of college so it was almost like a celebratory night as well.
The venue was packed for such a small band to play but you had heard good things about their music so you were pretty excited.
On the other hand, Carol had decided that tonight would be the night she finally confessed to you about how she feels. Wanda had previously told her that you felt the same for Carol but she still couldn’t believe it until she heard from you how you truly felt.
“Do you want to hang by the bar? Or go towards the middle of the crowd?” You asked, turning to Carol as she was lost in thought before looking at you and registering what you said.
“We can go towards the middle of the crowd, I don’t mind” she said, being pulled out of her thoughts and smiling before you gave her a confused thought. You wanted to make sure everything was okay with her.
“Alright. Just stay close, I don’t want to lose you” you smiled at her, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the crowd. Although it was a small gesture, she loved having the feeling of your hand in hers, even if it was for a short time it was like that.
After a few minutes, the band came on and began playing their music which, like everyone said, was pretty good. You and Carol wer swaying and jumping to the songs, laughing everytime you’d bump into each other.
The song ended and then the band began to play a slow song as everyone began to sway side to side and you and Carol followed suit.
She took this as the opportunity to make her move. Carol turned to look at you as you watched the band sing and play the song before looking over to Carol and smiling at her.
“What?” You asked before Carol pressed her lips against yours. At first it took you by surprise but then you realized what was happening and began to kiss back before Carol pulled back.
“I’m- sorry I just. I really like you and I had to make a move and it’s alright if you don’t feel the same way, it’s totally understandable and-“ you was cut off by you pulling her back in for another kiss by her shirt.
You pulled back and smiled at her. “I like you too, Carol” you said as she smiled at you before pressing a small kiss on your forehead, wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you close while swaying together again to the music.
-
“(Y/N)?” Carol said, coming into the doorway about to ask you where you packed something when she saw you looking through the small box and holding concert tickets. You looked up at her, a small tear rolling down your face as you wiped it away, giving her a small smile.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, walking up to you and taking ahold of your hand. You looked from the ticket then up to her.
“Nothing, I’m just-“ you started before letting out a breath. “Reminiscing” you smiled at her as she gave you a sad smile before looking at the ticket and realizing what the ticket was to.
“That was the best night of my life, you know” she said, wrapping her arms around you, stepping behind you and leaning her chin on your shoulder. “The day I finally made a move” she finished as you closed your eyes, taking in the moment.
“It was the best day of mine too, besides the day we met of course” you said, leaning your head against hers softly, as she placed a small kiss onto your neck. You felt her pull back slightly.
You turned to look at her, placing your arms on her shoulders, looking at her and smiling. “I love you, you know” you said as she nodded placing a kiss to your forehead.
“And I love you. Forever” she said, looking at you before pressing her lips against yours. You were grateful for every memory you’ve made with Carol and today was just the start of so many more to come.
———
feedback is appreciated!
I make myself soft wOw 🥺🥺🥺
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cali-holland · 4 years
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The Phantom of the Opera- Harrison Osterfield One Shot
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Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader
Prompt: When Harrison signs up for the musical The Phantom of the Opera to impress a girl from class, he doesn’t realize he’s been chasing the wrong Christine. (College AU)
Word Count: 2100
Main songs: Think of Me  -  The Phantom of the Opera  -  All I Ask of You
Warnings: swearing probably
A/N: tom was not billy elliott in this lmao also might have overhyped this one hahahaha my bad
Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist
*Gif is not mine*
~~~
“The Phantom of the Opera?” Tom looked at his friend with his eyes wide in surprise and disbelief.
“Yep.” Harrison nodded. A nervous smile on his face found its way onto his face as the two of them walked into the student union to grab some coffee before their shared music appreciation class.
“This isn’t High School Musical. This is a legit musical, one that even has opera in the name.”
“Look, it’s extra credit to just audition, and, if I get the role, I’ll be acting opposite of Vicky.” He reasoned. Vicky was the T.A. in his music appreciation class, the girl that he was currently fawning over, and the girl who was most likely to get the role of Christine. The discussion paused as they ordered their drinks, and stepped to the side, “Can you audition with me?”
“Hell no. No extra credit is worth performing in a musical.” Tom shook his head, scrunching up his nose in disgust at the thought of auditioning.
“Whatever. I’m still auditioning.” Harrison said.
“Hey, Harrison, Tom.” You smiled, coming to stand by Harrison as you waited for your own drink. You were the other T.A. for said music appreciation class, being a music major yourself. “Are you auditioning for The Phantom of the Opera?”
“Yeah, might as well for the extra credit.” Harrison replied, neglecting to add the Vicky excuse.
“Which part?”
“Uh, the phantom?” He shrugged, and you let out a small laugh.
“You’d be better as Raoul.” You told him, making him look at you confused. “I mean, I know the director’s looking for a tenor with a wide range for the role of the phantom. You’d probably be better off trying for the part of Raoul.”
“You haven’t even heard me sing, and I feel like you’re already insulting my voice.” He joked.
“I’m just saying,” You laughed, “Raoul’s role is easier on your vocal chords, especially since you’re not classically trained. I can help you with your vocals, if you want.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Are you and Vicky auditioning?” He asked. Tom elbowed him lightly as a way to tell him he wasn’t being smooth about asking about Vicky.
“She’s auditioning for the role of Christine. I probably won’t audition.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like singing in front of others.” Before Harrison could reply, your name got called and you went to get your drink. “I’ll see you guys in class.” You smiled before leaving.
“Are you sure Vicky’s the T.A. you like?” Tom teased.
“What the hell are you on about?” Harrison questioned.
“I’m just saying, you and Y/N talk a lot more than you and Vicky. Are you sure Vicky even knows you exist?”
“Vicky knows I exist.” He defended himself, “Y/N’s just a friend.”
That weekend, Harrison met you at one of your college’s piano practice rooms to help him with learning lines and practice singing for the audition. For wanting to do it simply for extra credit, you were surprised he was taking it so seriously. You suspected there was another underlying reason, but you also didn’t know Harrison well enough to try to push it.
“I’m doing it wrong, aren’t I?” Harrison asked with a defeated sigh.
“You’re missing the emotion. This is the first time Raoul is seeing his childhood love. Christine’s is captivating the entire opera with her voice, so you need to sound captivated, awestruck.” You encouraged, beginning to play the notes to “Think of Me” again on the piano. You knew exactly which piece the director would have all the Raoul auditions sing, and so you focused on helping him sing the part. Harrison could act well, but it was the combination of acting and singing that he struggled with. You said, teasingly, “This time, with passion”
“Can it be? Can it be Christine?” Harrison sang, but this time with a sense of awe in his voice. He stood beside the piano, reading off the music sheet. Loudly and passionately, he exclaimed, “Bravo!” before continuing his lines “Long ago, it seems so long ago,”
“Hold it!” You reminded him, knowing he’d try to cut the next line short like he’d been doing.
“How young and innocent we were, she may not remember me, but I remember her,” He finished the part, almost out of breath.
“Okay, so you need to get the breathing down.” You laughed.
“You try singing the same lines over and over again. It’s hard.”
“If you want the role, you’ll have to sing the same parts over and over again.”
“You sing then.” He said, and you started to play the piano again.
“I don’t sing in front of other people.”
“Come on, music major.” Harrison nudged you teasingly. “I’m not even trained and I’ve been singing.”
“Fine, I’ll sing, but just so you can practice coming in at the right part.” You caved. Harrison smiled as you started to sing. “Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we’ll never do, there will never be a day when I won’t think of you,” You nodded over to him, signaling for him to start his part.
He sang through his part with the right emotion again. He smiled, encouragingly at you to have you finish Christine’s part.
“Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade, they have their season so do we, but please promise me that sometimes, you will think-” You stopped prematurely.
“Why’d you stop?” Harrison asked, “You were really good.”
“Thanks. I haven’t warmed up at all. That’s not an easy note to hit.” You replied, taking a sip from the water you had placed on your piano bench beside you.
“Why don’t you audition? Your voice is incredible, and I’m not even a music person.” He insisted with a small laugh.
“Vicky’s operatically trained, and I mean I took vocal lessons so I’m trained enough to sing some arias, but nothing crazy.”
“I think you’d make a good Christine. I’m auditioning, and you just had to sit through an hour of me singing like shit, so I’d say you got a chance.”
“You’re not bad. You just need practice.” You reassured him, looking at your phone to check the time. You had reserved the room for an hour and your time was already up, “We should go before someone comes to kick us out. The audition’s tomorrow, are you ready?”
“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
~~~
“I swear to god, if you get this role, I’ll do your music homework for the rest of the semester.” Tom said as he walked the halls of the music building with Harrison.
“I sounded like shit yesterday, so,” Harrison trailed off. He halted his steps as he heard a familiar voice coming from a practice room. He peered through the window to see you playing the piano, and singing another piece from the musical.
“Your spirit and my voice in one combined, the phantom of the opera is there inside my mind, is there the phantom of the opera,” You closed your eyes, vocalizing the high notes of Christine’s part.
“Holy shit.” Harrison breathed out, taken back from the intensity of the notes.
“Y/N can sing like that and you’re still into Vicky?” Tom asked in disbelief. You stopped singing to drink some water. The two boys quickly jumped away from the door.
“Right, the audition.” The blonde remembered, returning his anxious journey to the musical auditions.
Harrison didn’t see you again until the next day in class, when you pulled him aside to talk about the musical.
“How’d the audition go?” You asked with an eager smile.
“I think it went well.” Harrison replied, “I heard you in the practice room. You can sing, really sing those high notes.”
“It was nothing.” Your cheeks heated up. His words made your heart do flips. 
“No, I’m serious. You should’ve auditioned.”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you. I did.” You said, “I auditioned for Christine.”
“I’m sure you got it.”
“Actually,” You paused and he raised his eyebrows as a way to tell you to continue, “I’m Vicky’s understudy.”
“The roles are out?” He asked, immediately forgetting about your own role.
“Not officially. I’m not supposed to tell you, but you got the role!” You smiled, hugging him in excitement.
“I’m- I’m Raoul?” Harrison looked at you with a smile of disbelief. He thought it was impossible for him to get the role.
“Yeah, you did! Congratulations!”
“Wow, I’m going to be in a musical.”
“You’ll be a lead in a musical.” You emphasized. You checked the clock and saw it was time for class to begin, “C’mon, lecture’s starting.”
You watched from your spot at the front of the music room as Harrison whispered something to Tom, who let out a small groan. Based on the smile Harrison threw your way, you knew it had to do with his role.
~~~
Over the course of the next few weeks, you and Harrison grew closer as you helped him prepare for the role of Raoul. Of course, during rehearsals, he’d work with Vicky, but he still turned to you for practice outside of rehearsals. With each practice, you found yourself falling harder for the blue eyed boy, which only made it harder during rehearsals when you’d have to watch him and Vicky act as Raoul and Christine.
“One week until we open. How ya feeling?” You asked Harrison, once he’d emerged from the wardrobe department. With opening night only being seven days away, practice was daily and rehearsals had changed to dress rehearsals. You had to admit he made a dashing Raoul.
“Nervous.” He replied, adjusting the collar of his suit.
“You’re going to be great.” You reassured him.
“Y/N!” The director called out to you, drawing your attention away from Harrison.
“Yes?”
“You’re on. Vicky’s ill.” He announced. You hurried off to the costume department, getting into Christine’s dress.
With the rush of Vicky’s absence, you and Harrison didn’t have time to talk before the rehearsal started. Despite the first act of the play leading up to Christine and Raoul’s musical number, you were too focused on going through the lines to really think of “All I Ask of You”.  It wasn’t until you stood on the rooftop set that you realized the magnitude of the situation- you were Christine now and Harrison was Raoul. The soft violins began, striking up the romantic piece.
“No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears. I’m here, nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you,” He started to sing, gently placing his hands on your bare shoulders as you both looked out into the audience. You turned to him, losing yourself in his warm blue eyes, “Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears. I’m here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.”
“Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime. Say you need me with you now and always,” You sang back. He rested a hand on your cheek, keeping your face intimately close to his, just as scripted. “Promise me that what you say is true, that’s all I ask of you.”
“Let me be your shelter, let me be your light. You’re safe, no one will find you, your fears are far behind you.” He continued the next verse as he hugged you gently before leading you in the choreographed walk around the rooftop.
“All I want is freedom, a world with no more night, and you, always beside me to hold me and to hide me.” You sang, the two of you coming to a pause in the center of the stage.”
“Then say you’ll share with me, one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude, say you need me with you, here beside you, anywhere you go, let me go too. Christine, that’s all I ask of you” Harrison pulled you into his loving embrace, your back pressed against his chest, swaying the two of you slightly to the music.
“Say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you.”
“Share each day with me, each night, each morning.” You sang together in harmony as you moved to stand in front of him.
“Say you love me,” Your voice trembled slightly as you registered how close you were to Harrison, captivated in his embrace.
“You know I do,” His voice came back, full of passionate emotion.
“Love me, that’s all I ask of you,” The two of you sang. As the music grew louder and more dramatic, Harrison pulled you in for a passionate kiss, taking you by surprise. He and Vicky had been rehearsing without the kiss; this was a change. He picked you up and spun you, his lips still on yours. He set you down and you pulled away from the kiss.
“Anywhere you go, let me go too,” You both sang out, holding out the notes, before softening. “Love me, that’s all I ask of you.”
Before you could help yourself, you kissed Harrison one last time. Hand-in-hand, you two exited the stage, leaving the set for the phantom’s reprise. You watched the scene from the side of the stage, not realizing you still held Harrison’s hand. The director nodded over to you and Harrison, signaling your part of the reprise.
“Say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning.” The two of you sang, off-stage. 
“You will curse the day you did not do, all that the phantom asked of you!” The phantom finished the song , with the theme replaying loudly over the speakers.
“That was fantastic! Intermission before the next act!” The director called out, clapping proudly. It was then you realized you were still holding Harrison’s hand, and you dropped it quickly, hurrying off to change, not particularly wanting to bring up the kiss with Harrison (though you were both guilty of kissing the other unexpectedly).
As you changed into Christine’s pink masquerade gown, you found yourself thinking through your last scene. You really liked Harrison, he had caught your eye the first time you’d seen him in class, but now, you were tangled between the blurred lines of fiction and reality. Did he actually want to kiss you, or was that just him acting as Raoul, caught up in the romance of the song?
A few minutes before the second act was set to begin, you were dressed and waiting anxiously near the side of the stage, mentally running through your lines again. You knew this next act focused on Raoul protecting Christine from the phantom, and the romance between Christine and Raoul was intensified as they were now engaged in the musical. You had barely made it through the last act, keeping your feelings for Harrison together, but this next act would just make it all the more difficult.
“You’ll be fine.” Harrison’s voice made you jump in surprise as he appeared beside you. His blond extensions were smoothed back to a small ponytail, and he wore Raoul’s blue masquerade suit, accentuating his eyes perfectly. “You sounded amazing in the last act, don’t stress yourself over this one.”
“Thanks. You were pretty great, too.” You smiled softly. There was an odd tension in the air; you knew how you felt, but you didn’t quite yet know what he thought of you- or if that damn kiss was intentional. He looked as if he was about to say something, but you spoke up first, letting your nerves get the better of you, “Look, Harrison, that kiss-” 
“I meant it,” was all he could say before the masquerade music began, signaling the start of the second act. He gave you a nervous smile before he rushed off to his stage position. The chorus started to sing, and you couldn’t do anything to stop the rehearsal. You and Harrison went through the movements of Christine and Raoul, through the masquerade, the graveyard, all of the scenes. 
When the rehearsal finally finished, you were grateful. It was hard enough to remember lines as it is, but even harder with Harrison’s words racing through your mind. The curtain had barely closed before you pulled Harrison in for a passionate kiss, cupping his cheeks softly. He smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. After a moment, you pulled away breathlessly.
“I’m so glad you convinced me to be Raoul.” Harrison laughed, kissing you again. 
When opening night came, you surprisingly didn’t feel overwhelmingly nervous with Harrison playing your Raoul. He was so happy that he had tried out for the musical. “All I Ask of You” was by far the easiest scene for him to perform.
~~~
Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @violette-hollxnd​ @heyitsshrez
Harrison Tag List:  @tomkindholland​ @calhtlland 
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isolctions · 3 years
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...........so let’s finally talk abt what the actual fucking fuck is wrong with ai’rina rue castillo, huh gang? :-)
(everyone go thank @armsdealing & @durcgs beating the anxiety out of me in order to post this info-dump.)
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...before we get into things, now’s the part where i establish a warning for triggers to be discussed in this lengthy headcanon post. there’s gonna be some talks of mental illness, slight alcohol abuse, & breaking down topics of familial abuse, mental abuse, religious abuse, emotional manipulation, and elements of non-con. be warned.
a’ight, so look. i’ve hinted in between threads & development that rue had a not-so-fantastic upbringing that impacted how she perceives herself, how she interacts with others, (in terms of her career, at least) and how she views personal relationships, but i didn’t realize how........severely her upbringing messed with her mental health until i started working through how i wanted to plot out rue’s behavior for her next album release. at first, i had the idea that she decided to take more time for herself & sort of distance herself from the public / media circus plaguing her life so that she can create much more authentic music. then i actually listened to the EP that i’m basing her album off of and thought “...oh.” THEN, i looked over old meme responses & old threads / mentions of her family and how she grew up and thought, not for the last time since piecing everything together: “....oh. oh fucking boy.”
so, that horrible realization dawning on me, let’s talk about rue’s childhood.
i wrote a thing like, two years ago almost (that upon looking for last night, i realized i didn’t actually share it w/ anyone but alex in our discord server & only mentioned a portion of it in rue’s moodboard that i made) that talked vaguely about how rue felt growing up. and it’s worth noting that...she’s the middle of ten fucking siblings. and that’s just the brothers & sisters she knew of that stayed with their mother. and on top of that, not all of those siblings are the product of rue’s father, or even rue’s mother for that matter. and it’s also worth noting that rue not only grew up in poverty, but she grew up never having any actual space that had solely been her own, or even an article of clothing that had belonged entirely to her. so naturally, as a young child, rue sort of became torn between starved for attention & wanting someone to pay attention to her (whether that be her older siblings including her in something, whatever teacher they had for the next six months to call on her for something, for her mother to miraculously show up with her unknown father in tow one day, & for literally anyone to be her friend, pls god Notice her!!!) and for people to simply leave her the hell alone. obviously, this carried into adulthood.
and branching off from the whole “lack of space” point i made, rue wound up growing up to become increasingly more private as time went on because she literally cannot remember a single moment where she wasn’t squished between a bunch of people. driving around in their minivan? rue’s packed in the middle of the second row. nowhere to sleep while on the road? rue’s smacked between gigantic older brothers & clingy little siblings. need to use to bathroom? lmao, she better off going outside!!! gotta change clothes? yeah, good luck with that. it was to the point where, when rue got her first period, she was humiliated by it — not because ‘omg, am i a woman now?? wtf is this???’, but because she ruined the one good sheet that she slept on with her sisters & they were super pissed at her and her mother withheld pay from her for weeks. >:/
already, rue grew up never having shit to herself until the record deal. but she also dealt with literally...so much abuse from her mother. rue thought this was the norm growing up, because all of her siblings faced their mother’s wrath at some point & all of them eventually learned to just deal with the shit and do what she says if they wanted to avoid it. they all compartmentalized and repressed to varying degrees. there’s a lot in which rue has repressed so deeply, she doesn’t even remember if it seriously happened or if she was just making it up bc it was so fucking bizarre for a parent to act that way towards their child, lol?? (and this behavior of “i’m just going to do what you say bc i don’t want to deal with whatever bullshit you’re up to if i say no” also carried into business / personal relationships, which is...very Yikes it’s amazing she didn’t get scammed or worse!) 
so sure, people have complimented her for her exceptional manners & her cleanliness & how quiet / polite she is & how amazing her posture is, bc seriously, this girl will never experience back problems in her life bc her posture is so on par. but where rue typically smiles / responds bashfully, she can’t exactly just up and say: “oh, yeah, my mom used to slap the shit out of me ‘til i bruised if i spoke out of turn or talked back, and if i reached for anything in the store or put my elbows on the table she’d slap a ruler against my palms ‘til i got welts, and she’d make me read verses all night without sleep if i did anything wrong and make me straighten up and kneel on rice if i slouched or took a nap in church and humiliated me in public if i so much as looked at someone of the opposite sex on the street n oh, did i mention i also cleaned houses for rich millionaire snobs from ages twelve to sixteen and if they said or did literally anything to me i wasn’t allowed to defend myself?? ya i’m real proper :)”
(and normal ppl will go: “...................what the FUCK is WRONG with you????”)
but oh man, babe, we’re not done yet!!! rue, being the product of both a highly religious and a highly exploitative household...had difficulty when she started reaching puberty & noticing her classmates. plural, because it wasn’t just boys that she began to secretly have crushes on / fantasize abt, sexually or domestically. she also realized, oh shit, that she started looking at girls differently too. and that literally put the fear of god into her heart, bc if her mother ever found out that she was having non-platonic feelings for the girls in her classrooms, she wasn’t going to be pissed. her mom might have actually tried to kill her. or have her exorcised or something. she knew the shit would be severe, and she wanted no fucking parts of her mother or her siblings inserting the church into her personal life, thank u very much! so rue started suppressing her romantic feelings for people to the point where if adult rue receives intimacy, she’s like “...is this allowed? is this not illegal??????” while simultaneously being like “i will be a slut. just this once. as a Treat to teenage me. :>” regardless, rue learned to molotov cocktail literally any emotion or thought she had, bc she was paranoid that it would give her mother a vision.
now, onto the perils of exploitation...she should’ve been used to it really, what with her mother forcing herself & siblings to lure customers into their shop with promises of visions and palm readings and the wonders of the cards and overexerting their abilities. same with housekeeping, like being of service to people was normal! but when seventeen year old rue decided to sign a record deal and break from home, she wasn’t thinking critically about what the fuck all of this would entail. and as described in this headcanon post abt her discography, her early music was the product of allowing people much older & powerful than you to influence your work & manipulate your values. so rue was very much parading around as someone she wasn’t, someone much more confident and badass and self-assured than she really was, and she was so impressionable back then that it literally makes her sick to think back on it now. she calls it her puppy phase and phrases the eagerness to please execs as ‘tongue wagging’. homegirl hardly even knew her name anymore, bc all she was and all she would ever be was rue, the star, the vocal temptress. not ai’rina, the help or ai’rina, the seer, ai’rina, the weak little nobody. but later on, the subtle manipulation was less about decision making & how they wanted her to sound, and more about how they wanted to present the latest trophy star — because after all, she was pretty. people liked her. she sung really well. suitors weren’t too far off into the distant future. so why not kill two birds with one stone by having a high ranking label artist keep tabloids talking by being seen in public with a few heart throbs? surely, there’s no harm in manipulating an eighteen/nineteen year old’s love life! under the guise of improving her social skills & relations with fellow artists and the media and the like, rue gave into the pressures and let herself be taken out on dates & seen at awards shows with a few guys. no big deal. it was only for a night or so, she could handle the attention. then, one night appearances turned into week long appearances. pretending to date for only a month! completely innocent, positive exposure. :)
(adult rue, looking back @ younger rue: you stupid fucking BITCH-)
yeah, so once her label/management realized that she was turning into a hot commodity, they lost no sleep at allowing their nineteen year old artist to be seen ‘dating’ 20-24+ year old men occasionally. and whatever happened after their public appearances were none of their business. plus, she was good at pretending and being arm candy — so rue experienced her first kiss, her first dates, and her first times with people who she’s almost certain hardly remember their time with her, and really only got involved with her for a mutual career boost. very few of them does she actually remember in a positive light, and the ones that were positive, still depress her bc lmao all of it was fake, even if they were really nice & made it less like a chore and more like they actually wanted to be with her!! even fewer of them were actual relationships. meaning, said person asked her out of their own volition, not bc their managers thought it’d be a decent match on camera. it was evil, really, what her old label made of her. (like, she makes funny jokes that her first time having sex was awkward bc she had a vision halfway through that bummed her out but in reality it was just...really more of a transaction that made her feel icky n progressively worse abt herself until it happened more often and now she just doesn’t care anymore. sex is just sex, u know?? everything’s fake. why you gotta make it personal.) this whole fiasco took over the larger part of rue’s career from like, age nineteen to age twenty-two or so, and she suffered dramatically from this because what is even a genuine, authentic relationship at this point? what do u mean you want to get to know me? did ur manager tell you to ask so many damn questions & try to get to know me? obviously you want something from me bc that’s why everyone gets into a relationship or has sex with me, stop confessing feelings for me u fucking loser. >:/
like...rue doesn’t even have friends. outside of her relationship with marcelo / @armsdealing​ (which, AGAIN, i think was initially arranged to promote her song be honest, how fucking IRONIC), rue does not have any personal relationships with anyone. i mean, she likes her latest management team since switching labels...her hair stylist is rly cool & her make up artist is fun to vacation with...she met a few other celebrities at events that she occasionally texts & has dinner with...yeah, she’s basically a pretty hermit. her family is more or less out of the question — the few brothers & sisters she does still have a positive relationship with (like, four of them lol), they don’t see each other in person often / mainly communicate via groupchat and facetime calls when all of them have time. she tried visiting with her mother over the years, but the verbal & emotional abuse/curses placed on her/accusations of being an imp of satan for singing to the public/memories of being forced to perform psychic shows & clean for chump change keeps her from trying to mend that relationship. like, being gaslit by ur mother isn’t really the vibe, u know? and bottom line, rue simply is a very shy and socially stunted individual who does not know how to communicate like a normal human being anymore. hell, her life revolves around pretending for strangers at this point!
now, onto how...all of That ties into her behavior / state of mind during this next album. so, after riding the wave of success from her third album & the circus that came with that. rue sort of had a fucking existential crisis. came out of absolutely nowhere. (not nowhere — one of her brothers called her out of the blue and called her ai’rina and she literally went “who the fuck is that?”) told her label that she was taking some time in between albums bc she was creatively zapped or whatever bullshit excuse she came up with that somehow worked bc this new label was a little more understanding than the last. vacationed for a little, did some hot girl shit, bought a house, tried to see her mother again for whatever reason then got the shit slapped out of her and finally screamed at her to never touch her again unless she wanted to Throw Hands. cried and got drunk abt it. that took six months. bullshat to her label again, dropped like two songs to smooth things over, decided to focus on magic for a little to ground her, started partying with label mates then going home shitfaced & hungover every other morning. that took eight months. dropped one last song, promptly deleted her twitter, tried to write songs again, got a call from her mother and panicked and got drunk. that took a year. vacationed some more, got even drunker, was bed ridden for like three months because holy shit i’m having so many visions and if i see One More Thing my brain is going to explode, couldn’t separate the present from the future for weeks after that, told absolutely no one about that, cried every day & had an identity crisis, dyed her hair to appease the identity crisis goblins. that took a year and a half.
now, she just chilling. dyed her hair again. scaring her siblings halfway to death bc she keeps going on benders & sending cryptic texts abt the visions she’s getting but they’re so incomprehensible that they’re seriously considering moving in to get her fucking shit together. had a vision that she was married with kids and had a two week identity crisis appeased only by moving houses. (she was in a neighborhood with families...too much Drama and visions. turned into a really cool song tho.) started calling herself by her birth name of ai’rina in private. reactivated twitter to send cryptic tweets that her album is coming. working on said album. trying to drink less but kinda failing bc how is one simply supposed to make a highly personal dual album without alcohol??? prbly somewhere crying in marcelo’s lap or smthn. just vibes.
like...i feel like, in my head, the Theme of her project is wrapped up in identity. her relationship with fame and whatnot. trying to coax her childhood self out of its’ shell so that she can function like a normal goddamn person for once and re-establish her values. like, if someone went to any of rue’s residences right now, it’s just songbooks everywhere and wine glasses and her crystals and shit, bc she still has people’s futures to read for money. (yes, she never really got out of that portion of her childhood, but hey it pays.) it was all very confusing to experience at once while in bed at four in the morning & even though i tried organizing and debated on this, it’s still a Lot. which is why i am once again asking for plots that would allow her to dissect all these Things
so yeah. album four otw, with a side of confronting our childhood & facing our traumas!
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balladeer-angelo · 4 years
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92 for Jill x Reader please my gay heart needs it
apparently, I needed it too because I went all the fuck out on this one. like, jesus, summer, your love for women is showing lmao HERE YOU GO, LOVES
Jill x Fem!Reader (NSFW)92. “I’m not going to touch you unless you beg.”
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Despite how hot-headed she could be, and how quick she was to jump into action out on the field at the drop of a bullet, Jill was almost deceptively patient and methodical when she decided to spend her quiet nights with you. There was a meticulous pace that her fingers followed as they danced across the slope of your neck, your rising chest, the dip of your waist, the hillside of your hip. You'd come to discover that women like her seemed to have a penchant for slow-dancing without music. There was only your breathing, her sighs, the rustling of clothes, the wooden floor creaking beneath your feet as the both of you swayed together; got swept up in each other, drowning willfully as you stayed anchored to each other's bodies.
A song that can't be heard stops playing and another dance begins. She presses you down onto the bed, slips her tongue in your mouth and follows the swell of your breasts with her palms. You mirror her, tugging down her tank top to tease her nipples, now taut and rosy. Jill hums, a disapproving little sound even though her skin reacts to your touch like a scorching wind. Her hands take your wrists and push them into the pillows above your head, telling them to stay put. She was the one in charge of stoking the hearth fire between the two of you tonight.
Those strong hands slipped back down your arms once they determined you were going to behave. They cupped your face with a tenderness you wouldn't expect from someone like her at a first glance. Everything left unspoken she conveys through her bite, teeth passionate little daggers set against your neck and you're reminded who you're burning for. Jill takes great joy in hearing you whimper, in feeling the waves of your body washing against her as her fingertips continue to push all of your buttons.
She pinches your nipples, squeezes your waist, brands your naked skin with her mouth. She sucks at the flesh of your hip bones to paint you with matching bruises, her favorite accessory on you. You buck your hips up in a silent plea. She's so close to where you want her. Your legs are already spreading to accommodate her, giving her all the space she needs, wants. You want to give her everything. Jill feels some indescribable delight at how honest your desperation for her is.
"Look at you. Such a sexy little thing, all spread out like this for me."
Her purrs are like midnight, and she's staining your thighs with pink moonflowers that will bloom until daybreak. Her lips keep getting closer and closer to yours. She keeps leaving open-mouthed kisses on every inch of you except for where you need her most. You're burning. Jill can tell by how heavy your breaths are; and how you're obediently keeping your hands where she left them but your body won't stop squirming.
Deciding to be a little more merciful, she gives your sopping velvet folds a slow, soothing lick, flicking the tip of her tongue across your swelling clit. You jolt and clutch at the pillows, filling the room with the melody of your mewls.
Cute, Jill thinks. Something she can dance to.
Her hands massage the meat of your thighs while she starts to tread a measure to the sound of your breathing. Every time you inhale, she nuzzles her nose against the soft hairs of your pubis, committing your scent to memory. When you exhale, she does the same, breath like a glacial fire on your wet skin. When you bite your lip to stifle your moans, she nudges the hood of your clit back with the tip of her tongue and embellishes it with kisses that demand a response. When you rock your hips upward, she smooths you back down, pins you to the bed with fingers that dwindle between the lines of authoritative and provoking. She knows you want something.
"You know I can't read minds, baby. If you want me to do something, you're gonna have to be a little more verbal."
The stubborn bull within you rears its head and you nearly shove your face to the side to keep your indignant blush a secret, groaning quietly. But you were never very good at keeping secrets from Jill Valentine.
Her voice is almost unnervingly sweet, and it has you thinking about the first time you had eaten a fig when you were younger.
"C'mon, I just wanna hear that pretty voice of yours." Her teeth sink into your inner thigh again, more pressure behind it, threatening to devour you alive.
You yelp and toss a pillow at her head though she just laughs when it hits her, impervious to your little tantrums.
She pushes it away and tries again a little nicer this time, but the persistence in her voice is unwavering to the heat of your glaring pout.
"Just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. It's as easy as that."
"With you, nothing's ever that easy." You huff. "You're too greedy, always wanting more."
She smiles against your leg, giving it a kiss. "Humor me."
First, you sigh, long and loud so she can hear it, so she can feel your flustered annoyance against her face when it comes billowing out of your nose. Then you inhale, steeling yourself for the inevitable teasing that's sure to follow as soon as you voice your desires.
You look her right in the eyes. Those stupidly pretty, blazing blue eyes.
"I... I want you to touch me."
"How?"
You blink and your heart starts to pound. No matter how many times you've done this song and dance, no matter how carefully she's mapped out every inch of you, she still toyed with you as if this were some new affair.
"You know how." You grunt. She shrugs. The slyest cat in the neighborhood and she knew it.
"Maybe I do. But I wanna hear you say it. Just a few little words and I'll make it ha-"
"I want you to finger me!" You almost shout, your voice subdued by the internal awareness that you had neighbors above and below you.
Her grin makes your face burn even hotter and you swear you're going to ignite right before her eyes.
"Ohh~ Is that right?" She hummed.
You nod and she sits up on her knees between your legs, pushing your thighs to your stomach. Your pussy throbs with need and you can feel your silky cyprine dribbling onto the sheets. She's barely even gotten started and you're already soaking for her.
Jill drags her dull nails across the back of your thighs, trailing inward toward the apex of you, decorating you with soft red threads. You feel a thrum of an unfettered fever beginning to take root in your belly as she inches closer and closer.
"You know..." Her fingertips teasingly flickered over the hairs atop your aching mound. "There is one more thing I'd like from you."
Your head falls back and you release an exasperated groan. "Ugh, god. There it is. I knew it."
Jill giggles, ever so pleased with herself and your reaction. "I want you to beg for it."
"Jill, c'mon, please don't ma-"
“I’m not going to touch you unless you beg.”
To prove to you the vitality and validity of her claim, her hands began a slow crawl away from your hammering flesh and towards the inside of your knees.
She really wasn't going to give it to you easy, was she? On any other night, she might be a little more kind. Spare you all the teasing and embarrassment for something a little more passionate, with laced fingers and tender moments that feel like a slip of the tongue. If you didn't get to feel her touch inside you tonight, you were sure you would crumble like the cinders in a dying fire.
Swallowing the thick, tart pill of your pride, you peer up at her with a flushed face and determination.
"Please..."
"What's that?" She turns her head to show you her right ear. "I can't quite hear you, baby."
You raise the volume just a little, wiggling your hips impatiently. "Please! Jill, I want you to touch me!"
Jill hums to herself as if picking apart your declaration to find that pit of sincerity inside though she’s felt it already in your soft weeping flesh. Her hips rock back and forth just a little to grind herself against you. The fabric of her shorts catches on your bare skin like itchy, taunting thorns.
"Please, babe? I just want to feel you inside me. I wanna come for you. I want to come all over your fingers. I want to taste myself on your lips when you kiss me. I just... I want you, Jill."
Her lips part slightly and she simply stares at you for a second longer than intended, causing the hive in your head to stir with even more cries of humiliation. Maybe it's because of the harsh glow coming from the neon lights perched outside on the opposite building of your apartment, but you thought you could see a dusky pink color blooming across her cheeks.
Her eyes flutter to the floor for a moment as she seems to collect herself. You wished you could read minds at that moment. You go to speak, ask if you said something wrong, but she takes that chance away from you when her fingers return to your glistening folds and you gasp, pleasantly surprised. Jill rubs you at her leisure, falling back into that diligent cadence of hers as she coats two of her digits with your generous silken honeydew.
As she looks down at you she finds herself falling in love all over again with the way you sing and dance for her.
"Well...since you asked so nicely."
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