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playingdxngerous · 7 months

Text

Extra Credit

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: spencer reid smut, praise kink, hand kink if you squint hard enough, age gap (teacher and college student), digital penetration, oral f! receiving, angst bc the beginning is kinda sad ig, happy ending, just a ton of praise basically, also i didn't proofread so probably some mistakes here and there

~For my delusional girls, like me~

"So, for homework I just need you to read the next 5 chapters and write me a summary. Tell me how this relates to transcendentalism in literature. Don't forget to use the study guide from this previous test." Professor Reid says as he walks across the room, handing out the graded tests. He gets up to your table and quickly flips your paper over as he hands it to you. You know it must be bad if he hides the score from your peers. You turn it around to see a circled 47 with the words "u ok?" written next to it. You look up and he's completely across the classroom, continuing on his rant about the homework. Still, he is looking right at you. How does he know?

Your mind traces back to the night before. You're on the phone with your boyfriend in the process of being broken up with. Followed by, of course, your parents fight growing louder and louder within the walls. You look out your door and see them yelling at each other, throwing their hands in the air after every sentence. Last night was not a good night, especially since you had to spend almost all night studying for the test you just failed. A score of 47. How?

The class continues on like normal for the next 30ish minutes. Each tick on the clock is just another second you must force your tears to stay in.

"Okay just don't forget that homework guys. It's really important that you know this for the final." His voice comes back into focus. He dismisses the class. People start to trample over you as you put your stuff into your bag, crumbling the test. Professor Reid walks up to you, propped up against the table with his hands. "Mind to see me for a sec?" He asks concerned.

"Look, if it's about the test I'm sorry. It was just some careless mistakes and I won't ever do it again. I'm okay." You say as he guides you to his desk. Once again he leans against the table to get to your height. His suit stretches out with his arm, his button up shirt and tie becoming more visible.

"I know it wasn't just some careless mistakes. You're usually a straight A student. You've never gotten below a 90 on one of my tests."

"I was just being dumb, I'm sorry." You look down in unexplainable guilt.

"Don't say that about yourself, you're such a smart girl," he requests. Your stomach drops at his validation.

You try to laugh it off, "You're really overestimating me right now Mr. Reid."

"You think I don't notice when something is wrong? I know you and I know you aren't just being dumb. Talk to me." He says, ready to listen.

"I didn't know you paid that much attention to me." Your eyebrows furrow.

"I do," he grows quieter, "Noticed you weren't sitting with your boyfriend today too."

"How did you even know we were together?" You puzzle.

"How could I not?" He gasps with a smile. "It's kind of obvious you know. The way you look at him and all."

He really does pay attention.

"He broke up with me last night. Cheated on me too."

"I'm so sorry, I wish I could make it better. It's really seeming to affect your mental health right now." He responds concerned.

"Yeah, it's whatever. It's not just him being a problem right now so I don't really care. If anything, I'm just numb."

"It's not the group of girls beside you, is it?" His voice speeds up with a higher pitch. "I will fix it immediately if you ask me to."

"No, it's just my parents and stuff at home." Tears sting in your eyes.

"Is there something I can do?" He inquires.

"Extra credit maybe?" You shrug.

"I can do that. What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know just-" your voice breaks off as a tear falls out. "I'm just really stressed right now.” You wipe away the teardrop, yet more start to join it. He brings his hand up, curling his index finger to wipe the preceding drops. With no thoughts in your head, you accidentally lean in and cradle him into a hug. He allows it, wrapping his arms right above your waist. Seconds go by until you realize what you’re doing.

"I'm so sorry. Oh my god, why did I do that?" You pull away rapidly.

"Hey," he grabs your arm, "I don't mind. You can come to me for anything." He catches your eyes with his soft gaze, taking away any sadness left in you.

"So extra credit?" You clear your throat.

"Yeah um," he snaps out of it, physically shaking his head. "Just don't worry about it okay?"

"Are you sure sir?"

"Yeah." He gulps. "And the homework too."

You hug him again and he grabs your hair, massaging into your scalp. You squeeze tighter, never wanting to let your teacher go. This hug has been better than anything your ex boyfriend or parents have ever provided.

Like a scene out of a movie, he leans down and kisses the crown of your head. Tears once again stream down your cheeks at his loving touch, drying up as they fall onto his button up shirt.

You pull your head away to look at him, nothing but softness in his eyes. You place your hand on his cheek, feeling his slight stubble in your palm.

"Kiss me?" He asks in a hoarse whisper. In what feels like ages, you both unconsciously lean into each other. Slow and steady. His lips fit perfectly against yours. Your heart skips a beat.

The thought of him being your teacher rings through your head, making you pull away out of embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey stop, it's okay." He assures.

"This is so wrong. You probably didn't want that and only kissed back because you feel bad for me." You cry out.

"You know we both enjoyed it. Plus, I'm the one that asked for it to begin with." He assures.

He's right. You did enjoy it. More than you probably should have. It got your mind off everything else.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Reid." Feeling like a crybaby, your eyes drown your face once more.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay." He says almost unintelligibly fast.

He begins to kiss your head all over, letting his lips fall randomly along you. He moves to your forehead, then trails down to your neck. You instinctively grab his hair and let him continue. He makes it back to your lips and you sloppily return the favor. Each second you grow hotter. A slight whimper escapes your lips as he slides his tongue into your mouth. The taste of the two of you combines, the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted. His tongue slow dances with yours and he warm breaths begin to escalate onto you as he pulls away. His eyes remain closed even when not on your lips. He shortly returns, faster than ever. Passion floods the both of you. It flies in the air, warming up the world around you.

His hands find your waist, which he grabs to pull you closer. Friction rises in you below your skirt, so you squeeze your legs together to release it. This does little to no help, as the way he devours your lips turns you on more than ever. He grabs your right leg and hoists it over his hip. With the skirt being pushed up from this action, you begin to grind against his crotch with only your underwear and his slacks in between.

You then follow up with the other leg. He places his hands behind your thighs, his strong arms growing in size as he holds all of your weight up. You grab his biceps and squeeze. You’ve never imagined yourself admiring your teacher from so close, but it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

He places you on his desk, pushing random papers and pens aside. With your knees up, your skirt slowly slides down your thighs. He has no other choice but to look you up and down with his starving eyes.

"Still up for that extra credit?" He smirks and bites his lip.

"Been dreaming of it forever Reid."

"Are we forgetting that I'm still your teacher even when you beg me to fuck you? It's sir." He squeezes your thighs.

"Okay sir," you say sarcastically. "Why don't you get on with it then. Make me forget all about my ex you were probably so jealous of."

"Stay quiet for me like a good girl and maybe we won't get caught, how about that?" He pulls your head up by your chin.

"You just don't want to admit it." You say right before he collides his lips with yours for the millionth time.

"You just really want that 47% to stay huh?" He laughs.

"No! Please Mr. Reid, I've wanted you forever. Please just give it to me already."

"So needy!" He replies in a high pitched voice. After a small peck on your lips he makes his way down your body with his hands. He takes extra long on your tits, making sure to cause your stomach knot to tangle even more. You shiver at the touch, so ready to let your orgasm go. Your legs straighten out and dangle off the desk.

He moves his attention to this, changing the direction of his body. He grabs your hand and kisses it, dropping it as he begins to kiss up your leg. Starting at the knee, he makes his way slowly up to where the fabric of your skirt ends at the top of your thigh. He nudges it up with his hands, feeling around your waist.

"You're being such a good girl for me." He looks up at you without moving his head too much. His half lidded puppy dog eyes stare into yours. "Such a good girl. Legs all spread, dripping wet for me. So perfect. My princess." You struggle to find ways to respond as you are completely taken aback by his loving praise.

"Please, I need you." You blurt out.

"What do you need my love?"

"You. Everything."

"So, you want me to take these off I assume?" He teases as he tugs at your panties.

"Please!" You yell from overstimulation.

"Hey quiet remember?" He swallows hard before going back to where he was. Slowly, he pulls them down. "Holy shit you are soaked." You love the cussing side of your teacher more than you probably should.

"I want you so bad baby," you beg.

"I'm right here. I will give you whatever you want. You deserve it, princess." He leans forward as he speaks, slowly reaching his mouth to your wet cunt. His tongue moves in circles around your clit, not yet touching it. This man will be the death of you.

He slides his tongue back and forth, then licks a long strip up your pussy. His speed increases as he flicks his tongue back and forth. Moans seep out of you and him, creating music. As he flattens his tongue and practically shakes his head into you, your back arches more than you thought possible. He sucks and licks with professionalism. You skin begins to prickle as the heat rises in you further and further. He takes notices and pulls his head away.

"Don't tell me you're close already, we just started." He wipes his lips. He leans up and removes his tie to get it out of the way. He places it behind your head and uses it to pull you up towards him. You kiss intently. "Like how you taste, my love?" You blush hard at his comment.

He takes off his jacket and moves back down, rolling up his sleeves and buttoning them in place. His veins travel from his hands up, entrancing you. He slides one finger into you to get you used to it. However, your body is ready for whatever he has for you. He slides in one more right after.

"You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you sweetheart."

Just as you begin to reach your climax, he begins to go harder and faster. He moves his head back down and starts to suck on your clit. He whimpers as you pull his messy hair, making you starstruck.

"C'mon baby let it go." He continues. "Let it out for me. You can do it princess." You fucking love that he talks you through it. It sends you over the edge, causing you to finally release your orgasm. The two of you share deep breaths among each other and he licks his fingers to clean them. "You did so good for me, such a good little girl." He praises in such a smooth, sexy voice.

"I feel so much better." You exhale. Your vision slowly returns after the climax you just hit.

"I'm glad. You definitely earned that extra credit, by the way." He says. You laugh and begin to slide your panties back on, followed by hundreds of innocent kisses.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #angst with a happy ending

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levitiquee · 7 months

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Hello. Could you do a Captain Levi x female cadet reader where Levi always seems cold and hostile towards her but then they have to go on a mission as just the two of them and the reader gets really sick and Levi has to take care of her and shows her a softer side? Thanks and I love your fics!

Hiii, so this is probably not what you expected and it's probably a little too long too, but uh, here's a little something 🙏

Cw: Sick!reader

"So, it's just me and you this time," You said brightly as you waited before Wall Maria for the gate to open that leads you outside.

"I'm glad you're finding it so enjoyable." Sarcasm evident in his tone, Levi was on his own horse, slightly ahead of you. The hood over his head hid most of his face in the shadow, but when he turned his head towards you, there were no mistaking of the narrowed gray eyes and furrowed brows.

That's the only version of Levi you've ever seen, pissed off and irritated.

"Just so you know," Levi spoke quietly. "I didn't choose you to be here. I'd prefer Eld over you for such tasks. It was Erwin who thought you'd be good for this."

With one last heated glare at you, he turned away. "So, try not to fuck up, brat."

"My pleasure as always, captain." You mumbled under your breath as the gate opened, the heavy sound of stone against stone drowning out your voice.

You tried to tell yourself that he's like that with everyone, but you always noticed how his scowl would noticably deepen everytime you were in his sight.

No, Levi Ackerman did not like you at all.

And he never tried to hide it either.

It didn't bother you anymore, his unkind words. It used to sting, when you first became his squad member. You just couldn't understand what possible reason he has to dislike you so much.

Sure you were a little careless, maybe a little too energetic, you laughed a little too loud, talked a little much. But you never thought yourself to be that irritable, specially when everyone else seemed to get along with you just fine. It's just him that seemed to have a problem with you.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't hurt the first time he snapped at you, for something so entirety silly you weren't even sure why he was so angry.

"Don't mind him," Petra had rubbed your back as you tried not to cry. "He's like that to everyone."

"You and I made the same mistake." You had muttered, while sniffling. "But he only scolded me."

But you got used to it, after all the years. You learnt that he doesn't mean half the shit he says. Sometimes, you even retort back, nothing too over the line, just a few easy dialogues to see him get pissed even more. It honestly became your entertainment at one point watching him storm out of the room infuriated.

Because if he torments you, you torment him back.

Oh, he'd give you the nastiest cleaning duties later for sure though.

As for the mission you were shouldered with, you were actually surprised when he told you. Because why on earth would he want you around for three days?

The goal was simple, to clear out a certain area for the next overnight expedition camp outs. It wasn't a rough job, that's why only two person was sent. The special operations squad had already scouted the area last week, so it was pretty much clear already. You've been on missions like this with him before, but never alone. Usually Eld or Petra tagged along. And even then it was a total nightmare with him chewing you out constantly and whenever he could.

But oh no.

Three whole days with him. Alone.

You could already feel the headache coming.

Levi clicked his tongue impatiently. His eyes kept glancing back to your tent. He'd been awake for hours, he had already eaten breakfast, repacked his own tent and fed the horses and yet there were no sign of you. The sun came up a while ago, the titans should be up and moving. And so should they.

If not for your dumbass probably sleeping in.

He pursed his lips. Unlikely.

You were always an early riser. There had never been a time where anyone had to wake you up, you were always the second to wake up right after he did.

Finally, he couldn't sit still any more. He walked towards your tent.

"Oi, you." He called out, making himself sound as irritated as possible to try to hide the tinge of worry underneathe. "You're planning to move after the sun sets or what?"

There wasn't your voice to answer. There wasn't even the slightest sound of anything to indicate you've heard him. Oddly quiet.

You were never quiet, he thought.

"Are you even in there?" He muttered. "Did a titan crawl inside or something?"

He waited a few more seconds. But the lack of response was making the air heavier.

"I'm coming in." He finally said after a while, bending towards the entrance. "If you're half naked in there, then that's not my fault."

You were in there alright.

You shifted, curling up tighter and pulling the cover on your face as the sunlight entered the space, the brightness sending an even more excruciating jolt of pain through your head then it already was. You heard footsteps trailing towards you until they stopped right beside you.

"Are you dead?" Levi's cold voice reached you, the sound was like a million pins stabbing your temple.

You sighed, turning around, peering one heavy eye from under the cover in response.

"Not dead." He muttered. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Not dead, but in the process of it." You mumbled quietly, your voice meek, timid and hoarse. "Good morning to you too, captain."

Levi frowned at how weak your voice sounded. It was barely audible. But he didn't say anything, only raised a brow inquiringly.

"Do you always barge into girl's rooms like that?" You said, slightly smiling at how he twisted his face.

"I called on you first. You didn't response." He answered, gritting his teeth.

"Yeah, sorry about that." You went back under the cover, the light was stinging your eyes. His staring wasn't helping either. "I'll be out in a while, captain. Give me 10 minutes."

"Are you sick?" He almost sounded worried, uncertainty lacing his tone.

"No." You shook your head. "Just a migraine. I get these a lot. I'll be okay in a while."

"You don't sound okay."

"But I will be. Don't worry, I can still use ODM. It's just a headache."

There was a silence. You could almost feel the heat of his gaze through the cover. You felt him shift besides you, he crouched down.

"Turn over."

You only pulled on the covers tighter. You felt his hand tap your arm.

"Turn over. Let me check if you have a fever."

"I don't." You shook your head. "I told you, it's just a headache."

"Turn over before I dump the water pallet on you.' He said firmly.

You cursed under your breath, but you did flip around, facing him. You lowered the covers so you could glare at him. He glowered back in response.

"Stop acting like a five year old. You're too old for this." He murmered, pressing the back of his head against your forehead. His eyes widened the moment he felt your temperature.

"Fuck, you're burning." He hissed, pulling his hand away.

"No way," You jolted as panic set in you. Anxiously, you pressed your own hand against your face. You can't get sick, not now.

"It's not hot." You frowned.

"Yeah, it doesn't work like that, you dumbfuck." His eyes scanned your face, your sunk eyes and chapped lips. "You even look like shit too. Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Nice." You grumbled. "You're so nice to me."

He ignored your sarcastic remarks. "How do you feel?"

"I can still go-"

"Hell no." He firmly cut you off before you could even finish your sentence.

"What? I can do it!"

"No."

"It's just surveying, captain. I promise I'll be fine."

"Don't make me repeat it."

"But you're going to have to do it alone then!" You protested. "I won't just stay in here." He stood up, brushing his clothes.

"I don't think I can go either." He said, frowning. "I can't leave you here like this." Your face fell.

"But the mission-"

"That can wait."

And then, without giving you a chance to say anything, he walked out.

But you realized too as the fever started kicking in, your blood running hot and head getting heavier. He was right, you can't go out like this.

It had been hours since, the sun was setting. Levi had been in and out, checking in every once in a while but also staying out. Whether that was to keep an eye out for titans or to stay away from your germs, you didn't know. As surprised as you were with Levi and this...not very hostile side of his, you felt guilt weighing you down.

Not only you did fuck up the mission—which he warned you not to—you have also become a burden. Specially, as you knew, Levi and his unwillingness to go anywhere near germs or sick or anything such. He never even went to the hospital unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Here."

You catched the little vial he tossed at you, turning it over in your hand. You were sitting up straight now, the cover draped over your shoulder.

"What's this?" You asked, curiously. The writing was too small and your eyes hurt too bad to focus.

"Meds. Nausea meds. Not sure how well it'd work for fevers but this'd have to do."

You nodded sheepishly, opening the vial and bringing it to your nose. You blanched when the smell hit you.

"Nausea meds?" You scrunched your nose. "This is triggering my nausea."

"Don't throw up here. I will smack you over the head, I swear." He warned you, reaching out a water container. "No one told you to smell it. Just swallow it down."

"That's what he said."

Levi was utterly scandalized. "Do you ever stop spouting shit?"

"No." You grinned as you downed the meds with a gulp of water. And you almost gagged, it was so disgusting.

"Serves you right." He muttered under his breath. "Tell me if you start feeling...shittier. I don't even know if this is any good."

"You don't have to do this." You blurted out after a pause.

"Do what?" He raised an eyebrow. His face was flat, as if merely bored by this whole outplay of events.

"..taking care of me?" You said. "You don't like germs. Additionally, you might get sick if you keep so close to me."

"Don't say shit. I'm tired of you enough." Was all he said before dropping on the ground, folding his knees.

You huffed frustratedly. "My point stands."

"Your point is ridiculous. I'm not leaving you here to die just because you're ego is too big to accept help."

"That is not-" You started defensively, but stopped when he glared at you. "Fine. But you should go. You don't have to stay here all day. Just because I can't do shit, doesn't mean you have to stay stuck with me as well."

"I'm not leaving you here alone." Was all he said before spreading his own covers in a corner and lying down, his back facing you.

If the first day was bad, the second day was worse. The headache was splitting your brain open, your eyes were bloodshot, derilious and hazy, and you could barely keep them open. You couldn't even speak when Levi tried talking to you, only ragged breaths and pants. Your eyeliashes fluttered wispily as you went in and out of consciousness. And your temperature was so, so hot, it was burning through Levi's skin.

And you shifted, flipping from side to side, and no matter what you did seemed to have given you any relief at all. Agonized cries and whimpers escaped you every once in a while, making Levi jolt. He'd see you, your face scrunched, lips pursed, tears rolling down the sides of your cheeks. He didn't even dare leave the room, watching you from a corner as dry coughs racked you, because what else could he do?

He didn't think you'd get this bad overnight.

Levi barely got any sleep, even less compared to what he usually gets. But he couldn't even focus on his own fatigue as he was too stressed about you. He checked your temperature every once in a while and it was as if it only got worse every second. Water compressions would help, but even the nearest water source was too far, and he wasn't sure if it'd be wise to leave you here. So, he had to depend on what he had and pray it wouldn't run out.

He was stuck here. With you. And your face ashened with every hour.

You needed medical attention, he knew. Instantly. But there was no way to get back to the walls, it was too far. You were in no condition to journey and his only hope was that either you'd get well by the next day or backup would be sent when they hadn't returned even after 3 days.

Just a fever, it was just a fever, he told himself.

You were not going to die.

But what if you die?

And he wasn't sure why he cared, but he shook the thoughts away like they were omens. As if not thinking about it could make you feel better.

And as if it already wasn't bad enough, then came the chill. It was the end of the fall and the temperature had started to lower. But for some reason, it became especially colder that day. At least, for you it was too much.

Levi didn't think that far, you ending up like this was not part of his plan. He didn't pack things accordingly. At the end of the day, he had to clear out his own bag to find whatever piece of fabric he could find to heap on you— uncaring of the cold himself—and yet your shudderings didn't lessen one bit.

As for you, you don't remember much. But you remembered the gray, gray eyes that seemed to be always there whenever you opened your own.

There was fog in your brain. Parasites crawling underneath your skin. A pounding in your head.

And pain. All of it hurt so much.

You craved heat.

It was so cold. So, so cold.

Where were you again?

A relieved sigh escaped you when you felt a touch of warmth on your forehead, your eyes fluttering open.

Furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

Captain?

"Captain?"

Levi flinched. The first sign of coherence you had shown in hours.

"Hey." Was all he said. Soft. Gentle.

He was sitting right beside your head, his palm pressed against your temple. You wondered if it was the fever haze. You have never heard him speak in that tone. He shifted to move his hand away from your head but your fingers wrapped around his wrist.

"Sorry." You mumbled. "Don't. That feels good."

His eyes widened fractionally, surprised. There was just the slightest hint of uneasiness in his expression but he didn't pull away. His fingers thread through your hair and you swear that lessened your headache by half.

How unusual it was to see him this way, you thought. For the first time in all you've known him, it appeared his face was twisted, not from irritation, but worry. The way he was looking at you, the way he talked, his fucking fingers in your hair.

"You're looking at me like I'm dying." You muttered, eyes falling shut.

"Well, you look half-dead. And you were practically dead the whole day." He pointed out.

You only gave a sheepish nod. "Bet being a nurse was the last thing on your mind when you set off."

"Yeah." He sighed. "Never imagined you'd end up like this."

"Me neither."

"You feeling better?" His voice was concerned, worried.

"Barely." You grimaced. "Better as in, I can assure you I won't die."

You pressed the back of your hand to stifle your coughs. They weren't so bad now as it had been the day before. He didn't say anything, but you felt his posture relax slightly.

"Captain?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry." You blurted out after a while. "I didn't mean to fuck up like this."

"I know." He said.

"Are you mad?"

"No."

"Do you think commander Erwin would be mad?"

"No."

"Oh."

You closed your eyes. Your lids felt heavy against your skin.

"...so what changed?"

"What?" There was surprise in his voice, confusion.

"You're being nice to me."

A pause. "You're sick. It's called common human decency."

You groggily shook your head. "But you hate sick." You stated.

"I do."

"And you hate me."

"I don't."

You stayed silent a while, going over his words. The fever haze was like a drunken stupor, and perhaps, that is why you said the words you did.

You sighed. "But it feels that way sometimes."

"Because I'm harsh with you?"

"You're not just harsh, you're cruel." You snorted. "You used to make me cry."

He paused. The next words were hesitant.

"I didn't think you cared. You always laughed it off." He said quietly, as if he wasn't quite sure of his own words.

"Yeah. Yeah I did." You nodded. "That doesn't mean it didn't sting."

Silence filled the space between you. You were too scared to look at him, scared of what you might see in those eyes. The same irritated scowl back again?

But no, instead his words were soft. Slow and clear.

"..I don't hate you."

You stayed silent, pondering over his words.

"No, I know." You finally said, hazily opening your eyes, he was looking down at you. His eyes weren't cold as you had feared…they were warm. The warmth touched you all the way from here. There was something else in your eyes that you couldn't quite place.

"You'd leave me to die if that was the case."

He didn't say anything.

You shook your head, you weren't really even talking to him at this point, almost as if you were talking to yourself. "You were always there." You whispered under your breath, watching him tense with every word. "I saw you. Your eyes. Wherever I go. And you always protected me. You'd yell at me later sure, but you always protected me."

Levi let out a tight breath, his jaw tightening.

"But you're always so cruel, sometimes I forget about the good parts of you." You sigh. "What about me makes you so angry, captain? What makes you so mean?"

Levi stared silently for a few seconds. He didn't know what to answer. How is he supposed to answer when he didn't even know the answer himself?

Why did you get under his skin so much?

He didn't necessarily hate you. You didn't even have to do anything and he'd still feel pissed at the sight of you. And he knew, you didn't deserve even half of how he made you feel, of the words he called you sometimes.

But why he did that, he didn't know.

From the moment, he set his eyes in you he knew. You were too overwhelming. Too much. Everything about you. You were never any less.

Talked too much. Joked too much. Laughed too much. Always. He never really quite understand how to handle you.

But he didn't hate you. You were never the problem.

Perhaps he merely hated how you made him feel.

He hated how he'd feel uneasy if you were out of his sight for too long. He hated how he felt when he saw you with someone else. He hated how his focus somehow always went back to you whenever you were in the room. And he hated how absolutely pathetic and helpless he felt when he watched you cry in agony just a few hours ago, knowing he can't do shit.

And maybe he really, really hated how his heart would beat a little too fast whenever you were near.

He could hardly breathe sometimes.

He didn't hate you.

He just didn't know what to do with the unusual things you made him feel.

"Rest."

Was all Levi said as he walked out, leaving you there.

@sad-darksoul @anxious-chick

#i don't like how this turned out #:c #aot #levi ackerman #levi #levi heichou #captain levi #aot fandom #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi x reader #levi thoughts #levi x yn #captain levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi x sick!reader

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sluttyten · 2 years

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Eros & Psyche

Yesterday <- || -> Kinktober Masterlist

Day Eleven: Anonymous Sex w/ Taeyong

Word Count: 9,568

Summary: you don’t know his name, you never see his face. he’s a perfect hook-up, absolutely no strings attached when you meet up for just sex. but how long can the anonymity truly last, and is it a cure-all for catching feelings?

The first time was a drunken mistake.

A careless night out at a club in LA. It was dark except when the lights flashed in quick bursts, and he was wearing a mask. Not like a normal face mask, but a Jason mask from the Friday the 13th movies. It was mid-October, and this club was doing Fright Nights with a costume contest every Saturday night this month, so the mask wasn’t out of place.

At first when he approached you, you were creeped out, but you were tipsy and horny and sad, reeling from the end of two relationships, due to a cheating bastard and a betrayed friendship, so you were just looking for something, for anything to numb the pain. The club, the drinks, and this Jason-mask wearing guy were exactly what you needed.

You didn’t care who he was or what he looked like, all you knew was how it felt when you pulled him into a messy stall in the women’s restroom, hiked up the skirt of your already very short dress, and when he slid up behind you. You barely even spoke to each other, no more than was necessary, but what little he did speak came with an accent from somewhere you couldn’t identify.

By the time you woke the next morning, you barely remembered the encounter, only a vague memory of getting fucked in a filthy bathroom by Jason Voorhees. But you felt better, odd as it may sound.

The second time you were still a bit drunk, and it was still probably a mistake.

You were being mature about your ex-friend and ex-boyfriend having an affair, so you were running away from your problems, seeking a life where you weren’t tied down to the city where they were.

New York was as good a place as any, you figured, and a week after that lapse in judgement at the club in LA, you found yourself in another club in New York City.

This was another Halloween-themed night, though only about half of the patrons seemed to be wearing what could pass as costumes. Much like the last time, you weren’t wearing a costume, you were just dressed in something tight (“something that screams ’fuck me’” a friend you’d brought along on this adventure told you).

The costumes here ranged from lazy to frightening to Marie Antoinette (Sexy Version). There were sexy cops, sexy nurses, sexy anything you can imagine.

Your friend was swept away by a person of an indeterminate gender who was dressed in a floor-length lacy black gown and long black hair a la Morticia Addams, but with a nicely trimmed beard. And just like that you were left to seek your own fun. You were standing at the bar, watching the bartender make your drink when a man dressed in a fitted black button down and black jeans wearing a skull mask leans against the bar beside you.

“Are you following me?” He says, speaking loudly to be heard over the music.

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s speaking to you. But he’s looking directly at you, there’s no one on the other side of you, and you decide, if this is some kind of pick-up line, it’s not a very good one.

“Excuse me?” You laugh, accepting your drink from the bartender as he hands it over.

The skeleton man looks at you, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“Sorry if I’m wrong,” he says the words slowly, and you detect that he’s searching for the right words. “But you were in LA last week?”

You feel strongly tempted to tell this guy no, to lie about having ever been to LA, but then he leans takes a step back, giving you some space.

“I’m wrong, maybe.” He lingers. “I was, uh, Jason at a club last week in LA, I thought maybe you were the girl I met there.”

And just like that your memory is sparked. You get flickers of his breath against your neck, hands on your thighs, your breath rasping out of your lungs as he’d fucked you against the wall of the stall like a nightmare-fueled fantasy.

“Oh!” You cover your mouth. “Yeah, that was me. I— Are you following me?” You ask, putting on a teasing tone, but you’re also a little bit serious. It’s weird. You meet in a random club across the country last week, and this week he finds you in New York? A voice that sounds a lot like the voice of reason whispers in the back of your mind that he could be a stalker.

He laughs, and for the first time you realize that his skeleton mask ends beneath his cheekbones, the rest is just very detailed paint. “I’m here for work,” he tells you, leaning closer again so you can hear him over the music. “I travel a lot, but I’m trying to have fun too.”

Now you can hear the familiar tones to his voice, that accent that you still haven’t placed.

“Where are you from?” You ask, leaning in as well. You’re close enough that when the lights strobe, you can see his eyes through the holes in the mask. Gorgeous eyes, large and dark.

“Uh, Korea,” he says after a moment. And then, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You won’t turn down a free drink, although some of your friends cite that as a problem, but tonight you’re celebrating freedom rather than mourning jt as you had been last week, so you take the drink gladly. He orders two shots of something, and you each throw one back.

You don’t know this guy. He’s a stranger that you’ve fucked, just some guy who travels a lot from Korea. Jason the Skeleton Man.

Your voice of reason grows quieter with each shot, until you find yourself stumbling out of the club with this Skeleton Man. He’s equally as tipsy as you, if not more so. His hair is bleached to a perfect, silvery shade of white that gleams beneath the streetlights as he tugs you away from the club, both of you tripping over your feet.

You’re not really sure where you’re going. He’d taken you out to dance together, bodies pressed hot and sweaty together in the mass of all the other partiers, and at some point he’d touched his lips to your ear to ask you if you wanted him to fuck you again. His hands had been on your body for the better part of the last thirty minutes, his cock grinding against your ass.

The sound of that word from his lips—fuck—had sounded so tempting when paired with the drinks and his touch, so you’d said yes. What did you have to lose?

Your friend was nowhere to be seen, so you shot off a quick text, a shared location, and you’d let the Skeleton Man lead you out of the club. Reckless and potentially quite dangerous, you weren’t thinking with your head but with your pussy.

It was a hotel he brought you too, just several blocks away through the city. It took longer to walk those blocks than it should’ve, possibly because you kept stopping him to pull him against you, kissing him until the skull makeup around his lips was smudging into gray.

By the time you reached the hotel, his hand was tight in yours, and he led you quickly by a group of young women who lingered outside on the curb, giggling over their phones. He all but dragged you through the lobby, and the moment you were alone in the elevator, he pressed you against the wall.

You were a mess of giggles, fingers twisting in the front of his shirt as you kissed him. The edge of his mask dug into your cheek a little uncomfortably, but not enough that you really minded.

There wasn’t much of anything you cared about then. You were feeling the confidence and carelessness of someone who’s had several shots, of someone who just wants to get dicked down by a man who you know knows what he’s doing. All you cared about was getting your hands inside of his pants the moment that his hotel room door opened.

The door wasn’t even swinging shut before you had him back up against the wall beside the door, your hand diving down the front of his pants, your lips on his. He moaned against your kiss, nipping at your lip as you pulled back, chasing after you with his lips. He lets you jerk him off like that, hard and rough, a little dry, but he seems to like that.

His long fingers pulled at your dress, tugging the straps down over your shoulders, the top down over your breasts. Your skeleton man has you naked in seconds, walking you backwards into the room while your fingers work down the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest, revealing a piece of a tattoo on his hip, but you don’t get much of a chance to get a better look at it.

When he spins you around and presses your chest up against the window of the hotel room, your whole body lights up like a storm, caught between the cool glass and the heat building inside you.

He fucks you just like that. Up against the window with the busy city street down below you, the world laid out in front of you. He cums first, spilling into a condom as he grinds into you, trying to make the most of your tight heat around him.

Your orgasm he gifts to you on a silver platter. He drops to his knees, and fills you with his fingers, soothing the throbbing need with his tongue on your clit. He moans and slurps loudly, so noisy, but you kind of love it. Especially when he pulls away from your pussy to moan something in Korean when you’d tugged on his bleached white hair.

You can feel the coolness of the rings that decorate his fingers as he thrusts them knuckle-deep inside you, and feel the sharp and cool sting of the rings as he brings a hand up to your ass, squeezing massaging, pulling his hand back a little just to slap it back down as he sucks at your clit and crooks his fingers just right inside you to prod against that spot inside you that sets your world on fire.

He slurps up you wetness, the unavoidable gush of cum as you orgasm. You’re basically sitting on his face as he kneels behind you, and he lets you rock against his face, just licking you out as you chase the endless high.

Afterwards, when you just have to stumble away from him, pressing your cheek and hands and tits once more against the cool glass, you swear and pour out praises for his skills. You glance back over your shoulder at him just in time to see your very sexy skeleton man rock back on his heels and rise up onto his feet.

“Thank you,” he says as he wipes at his mouth and chin, smearing his makeup and even wiping it away in some places. “You’re really, really good too,” he tells you, and then he’s fumbling with his phone as he pulls it out of his pocket. You catch a glimpse of the time, quarter past two in the morning.

You should leave. Go back to the club or to the Airbnb you and your friend were renting for the weekend. You should definitely not stay here and sleepover tonight.

As much as you like sexy Skeleton Jason guy, you also really like the anonymity of this. You like not knowing what he looks like, not knowing his name, not knowing if fate is going to push you together again, maybe next time just passing in the street of some other city without you even knowing.

“I’d better go.” You peel yourself away from the window, skirting around him on your way back towards your abandoned dress on the floor. “But it was nice fucking you again.”

He laughs, and the sound makes you halfway turn around. “It was nice fucking you again, too,” he says. “Maybe we’ll get the chance again in the future?”

You’d like that.

“How long are you going to be in the city?” You ask, unable to help yourself.

“Ah,” he lifts a hand to rub the back of his head. The skeleton mask slips forward on his forehead a little bit. “Not too much longer. Back to Korea in two? Three days, maybe?”

That gives you at least another two days to chance running into him again.

You pull your dress back up, tugging the straps into place on your shoulders. “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

“Maybe. But you might not know I’m me.” He grins as he says it. “You know, if you’re ever in Korea, in Seoul, let me know.”

“How?” You slip your feet back into your heels. “I don’t have your number or your name?” And you would kind of like to keep it that way. The anonymity is half of what makes this so hot.

“Give me your phone.” He holds his hand out, and you find yourself passing your phone over without a second thought. “This is my contact for, uh, kakaotalk. It’s an app we use instead of, like texting or, like, calling. If you’re in Seoul, use it.”

When he passes your phone back to you, you lock it without looking. “I will,” you promise. “But you have to promise that when I do, you’ll remember me. Okay?”

He smiles and nods, a slightly ominous sight with the skull mask. “I promise.”

You leave a few minutes later, and it’s only when you’re in the elevator, descending to the lobby, that you catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the doors. Your mouth and cheeks and chin are smeared with dark gray makeup. You look like you’ve been making out with a piece of charcoal. You wipe at it until it comes off.

You hurry out through the lobby, back out onto the street as you pull up a map. To your surprise, your Airbnb is only two blocks back towards the club and then three blocks north, an easy enough walk, but it’s chilly and too late to be walking alone, so you order an Uber instead. It’s once you’re sitting in the backseat of the Uber, clearing out your open apps, that you see your contacts open.

He created a new contact, and the page is still open to it. There’s what you suppose must be his username on that kakaotalk app, and at the top of the screen, for his name, he put only two letters:

and beside it, a small emoji of a rose.

Fate was a tricky bitch, presenting you with tricks and treats and twists of fate.

It was Halloween morning, a Monday of all days, when your boss approached you at work in the office. She was offering you a promotion.

In the weeks since discovering the affair between your boyfriend and your best friend, your life had felt quite messy and topsy-turvy, and basically every single day you woke up wishing for a fresh start. New York had been a fun break, but that was a couple weeks in the past now, and in the days since then you’d been approached by your ex-friend begging for forgiveness, seen them out together in public, and had to deal with the fallout in explaining to friends and acquaintances and family that you were no longer together with the cheating asshole.

So a fresh start, a promotion, that was exactly what you needed. And you accepted her offer only half an hour after she first presented it to you.

“The position will require you to uproot yourself,” your boss warned you. “You’re going to have to move wherever the company decides to place you. Are you sure you don’t need more time to think about this?”

No, you absolutely did not need more time. It was exactly what you needed.

Within days you were making preparations, by the end of the week your higher-ups in the company had contacted you to let you know they weren’t just moving you to another city, but another country.

When you received the email with the news, when you read your office location as Seoul, South Korea, you laughed out loud, dissolving into a fit of laughter that had you literally rolling off the bed onto your apartment floor. Your roommate had to come check on you.

Fate, the tricky bitch, she was up to something, you could feel it. It was only too convenient for your life that the mystery TY had fallen into your lap, given you some of the best random stranger sex you’d ever received, and your company was now moving you across the world to be perfectly positioned to be able to run into him again at your convenience.

It was closer to December when you were finally able to make the move. Your passport and work visa, your transfer of information within the company, and your housing in Seoul all had to be organized and confirmed, so by the time that you were finally stepping foot on the foreign soil to start your life anew, you were beyond ready for it.

Settling in took a bit longer than you might have liked, but your apartment was nice, just a fifteen minute walk from the office. There was another girl in the office who had actually transferred from your original office at home about two or three years before, so she was a big help in getting you settled, showing you around, helping you with the language as you found yourself immersed in a culture and language you’d only begun learning about a month ago.

When you finally had a moment to look at your recently downloaded kakaotalk app, you realized, although you had TY’s user ID, you had no way to identify yourself to him. Just as you didn’t really know his name, you’d never told him your name either. And what would you say to him anyway? Surprise! I just moved to Seoul! Now you’re the one that would sound like a stalker.

But then came a night after work, following an evening of after-work drinks with your coworkers, you were feeling confident enough to message him.

“I don’t know if you remember me, but you promised you would. I’m in Seoul for work now.” That was the basic gist of the message, but with several typos (your fingers felt a bit more drunk than you thought they should) and with a winky-face attached on the end.

You passed out before a response came, but in the morning when you woke with a hangover, you found a response waiting on your phone.

“I remember!”

It was a booty call like you’d never done before. Arranging it was difficult because he seemed to be quite busy here at the end of the year, but to be fair you found your schedule growing rather full as well. You kept trying to arrange times to meet, but it would interfere with something he had to do, even after normal work hours, he was always busy, and you were getting to the point where you wondered if he was just trying to get you to leave him alone.

But then he messages you to say, “I feel like it would be so much easier if we just met somewhere in the city, had sex, and went on our ways. I don’t have time for much of anything else, definitely not a relationship of any kind.” And then shortly after that, “and if we could keep it anonymous, that would be good too.”

You weren’t looking for a relationship either. Keeping it anonymous worked for you too. After the debacle with your ex-boyfriend, you still weren’t ready for a relationship because you didn’t think you could trust anyone enough. TY staying anonymous, as just basically a booty call, that made it so much easier, giving you no chance of developing feelings if he was little more than just a dick for you to use.

The first time in Seoul, you meet up during your lunch hour at a coffee shop. Or rather, behind the coffee shop. You can’t make out any of TY’s features as he approaches, and you turn to face the alley wall as he comes closer.

“We’ll be quick,” he tells you, coming up behind you as you pull down the waistband of your pants.

He’s wearing a hat and sunglasses and a mask, obscuring every part of his face. Not that you care. He fucks you fast against the alley wall, covering your mouth with one hand, the other on your clit, and as soon as you’ve both cum, you each pull you pants up and walk away.

The second time he sends you an address with specific instructions and a time. It’s a park, and you’re sitting on a patch bench with a scarf tied around your eyes.

You hear approaching footsteps, hear his voice as he says, “Open your mouth,” and you obey, letting TY fuck your mouth.

The thrill you get from not seeing his face, not knowing his name or his job, not having any idea what his favorite food or color or movie or hobby is, you love it. You love knowing nothing about him, the whole meaninglessness of your sex.

When you meet him in a public restroom, on your hands and knees on the floor so he can fuck you under the gap in the stalls. When you meet on a dark street or in a parking garage or on a back stairwell, anywhere neither of you can see clearly. You love it. You fuck and leave, only speaking when you first arrive.

He always speaks first, letting you know in some way that it’s him and not some random stranger that means you harm. He always fucks you from behind or blindfolds you in some way. He normally asks you to meet him late at night, while you normally ask for earlier in the day.

It’s all fun and sexy, thrilling and risky.

But after about a month of this, you get tired of just quickies. You want something more. You want the foreplay, the slow burn of taking each other apart, you want multiple orgasms, consecutive rounds. You want…. Well, not a relationship, but something a little more solid than what you’re doing now.

The next time you meet up after you come to that realization, you do something a little different.

You’re on a walking bridge through a park. It’s surprisingly not well-lit, but you can still see as TY approaches.

You can usually tell it’s him now just by seeing him approach, though his face is always hidden. You can tell by the way he walks, by his clothes with their certain style, by this fuzzy bucket hat that you think must be his favorite because he either wears that or a beanie pulled down below his eyebrows.

Tonight he’s wearing the bucket hat, the brim of it shading his eyes. He’s wearing a facemask too, black to match the rest of his outfit, and it covers his entire face from his jaw to just beneath his eyes. But you can see a little of his hair peeking out beneath the hat. Over the time you’ve known him his hair has cycled through a couple colors—bleached silvery white when you first met, bright red when you first saw him in Seoul, fading to pink over the last month, but tonight it’s a new color, a soft lavender color.

Your heart pounds in your chest at his approach. An odd feeling like nervous anticipation. The feeling trickles down into your belly, stirring up a fluttery feeling.

He comes to stand right behind you, his body curving against yours with a sense of familiarity, hands braced on either side of you, pinning you up against the rail.

“Can I admit something?” He asks.

You roll your ass back against him, humming your consent.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he says. “Touching you. Feeling you against me, around me. It was so cold this morning when I woke up alone in my bed, and I jerked off before I had to work, thinking of you. You’re so soft and warm inside. And all day working, I, uh, there’s this woman, her perfume must be the same as yours.”

TY dips his head forward, and you can feel him nosing against your neck, his mask still in place. You sigh, leaning back against his chest, into the nest of his arms tightening around you.

“Every time she walked by me, I could smell you.” He grinds forward again, hard against your ass.

You reach back, a hand grasping at his hip, your head tipping back on his shoulder.

“Can I admit something?” You ask, your voice catching, gasping out when he slips a hand around your belly, fingertips tugging your shirt free of your waistband, exploring over your warm skin beneath. TY hums, his lips pressed against your throat through his mask. This close, all you can see of him is the rim of his fuzzy hat, a hint of his purple hair. You can smell his cologne and the underlying taint of sweat.

“What is it?” He asks, his voice rumbling against your back and your throat. His fingers brush higher under your top until he reaches your breasts.

“I wouldn’t mind keeping your bed warm. You fuck me well, but sometimes I want more.” You sigh, and your breath clouds in front of your face in the cool night air. “Not love. I’m not asking for that. I want more sex. For a longer time. Not just you behind me, making quick work of getting us both off.”

He freezes against you. His hand slips down away from your breasts. He lifts his head from your neck.

You’re not expecting it when he forcefully turns you around to face him.

“Why do you want that?” He asks, and although you can’t really see his eyes, you can feel his gaze burning against you.

“Why shouldn’t I want it?” You reply. “Weren’t you just telling me that you thought of me this morning, warming you up on a cold morning? Why can’t I want the same thing?”

He makes a semi-frustrated sound behind the mask. “I thought you liked meeting up like this? Keeping me a secret, not knowing who I am?” He’s right. You knew you shouldn’t have told him that, but he seemed to like it as much as you. “How could we keep it like this if I take you to my home?”

“We can go to mine.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. “I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I just, I feel like the best time we’ve had was the hotel in New York. When we had privacy, the time to do more than just fuck like we’re strangers bumping against each other in the street.”

That draws a small laugh from him. “Is this how you usually bump into strangers?”

You reach out to push at his chest lightly. “You know what I mean.”

He grabs your hand as you pull back from your light hit to his chest. “I can still wear a mask, or you can be wearing a, uh, what’s it called?” He gestures to covering his face with something.

“A blindfold?” You ask.

He nods. “Yes. We can keep that part the same.”

You agree. TY agrees.

“But are we still doing this here tonight?” He asks, reaching back for your hips.

Of course you are. You’ve been thinking about this all day, just like he has. You let him get you back into the same position as before, his arms caging you in against the railing. You tug the long skirt up above your ass, TY drags your tights down underneath, and he fucks you against the rail, until your knees quiver and your skin is covered in goosebumps, until you’ve both cum.

TY pulls your tights back up with a playful pat to your ass, and then he lets your skirt fall again.

“I think we should still do this sometimes,” he tells you. “It’s fun.”

You have to agree. Having quickies in places you definitely shouldn’t is a good chunk of the fun in doing this, in addition to the anonymity.

That night as you get home, you think about how neither you or TY really knows anything real about each other. You know how to get each other off, but you don’t know each other’s names. You don’t know what he looks like. You don’t even know how old he is, you realize, but you can only assume that he’s somewhere around your age, possibly a few years older, maybe a couple younger. But even after about a month of doing this, he’s still a stranger.

You haven’t had the guts to tell anyone you know about him. None of your coworker friends here, none of your friends back home. Even the friend you’d been with in New York, you hadn’t told them about this. They just knew that you’d hooked up with a guy from the club that night, but not that it was still going on, or that it had happened before that night.

You know what people would tell you if they did know. That you need to know who he is. You need more than just a TY to know him by. He could be anyone. He could be a psychopath, a murderer. He could be a known criminal. Everyone would go to the dark side of things, you’re sure, imagining the worst out of this man.

But your gut instinct tells you that he’s nothing like that. You don’t know him, but you do know him. It’s a difficult thing to describe.

And you truly don’t think you want to know. You like the anonymity, the blank slate that he is. You can fantasize, imagine him as anyone in the world that you want to. You can pretend that he’s your ex (on your dark days of missing the man you spent so much time loving). You can pretend he’s a celebrity. He could be a CEO or a convenience store clerk. TY could be anyone.

It’s strange having him in your apartment. This is your space. It’s the least anonymous, the most vulnerable you’ve ever been with him.

He’s wearing a balaclava, the kind that only reveals his eyes and his mouth. It’s very reminiscent of your first two times with him; a little creepy, a little hot. TY just looks around your apartment for a moment, standing there in the doorway when you let him inside.

It’s not a lot. Just a very simple place, underdecorated since you’ve only lived here for a little over a month. The walls are bare, the kitchen is just a tiny corner. You have a sofa shoved up against one wall, a small TV, a cluttered coffee table that doubles as a desk, your twin-sized bed. A rack of clothes and a chest of drawers.

While he’s looking around, you look at him.

He looks comfortable, wearing a pair of shorts despite the chill, a long sleeve shirt beneath a long coat. He stands there inside your apartment, his socked toes wiggling on the floor, his shoes abandoned by the door. A small chunk of his lavender hair peeks through one of the eyeholes of the balaclava, but you like it. You like all of it, these tiny things that humanize him, that make him seem a little more real, less like a random man.

Not that it really matters, because this isn’t anything. It’s not anything real. This is just fucking, just using each other without any of the strings attached.

TY fucks you in your little bed. He spreads you across his lap and he plays with your pussy, teasing your clit, giving your bottom little smacks that grow progressively rougher until you’re dripping down his fingers and he fills you with his cock instead while you bounce yourself back into his lap. He pulls out and flips you onto your back, he fucks you in the missionary position, kissing you although the mouth opening in the balaclava is a bit insufficient for that, and you both end up spitting out little pieces of fuzz, laughing about it.

When he cums, TY pulls out, lowering himself down between your legs to eat you out. You clutch at your bedsheets, writhing against his face and moaning, grinding your pussy against his tongue.

And then it’s your turn. You get him on his back in your bed, and you start at his hips, lifting his shirt to kiss his abdomen, pushing it higher.

He moans, his hands covering yours in his shirt, pushing it back down before you can lift it even above his navel. But even with it lifted just that high, you see the tattoo on his hip, a cartoon of astroboy as you can see now.

He jerks his shirt back down. “No,” he tells you.

You back away. You’re not here to cross any boundaries. You can fuck him again with his shirt still on, you don’t care.

He does let you sit yourself in his lap, kissing him, touching his cock until he’s hard again in your hand. You ride him this time, your hands at his shoulders, his lips on your chest while he pulls you down into him by your hips.

You cum again while kissing him, moaning against TY’s lips, riding out your orgasm rolling and circling your hips, until he’s moaning too, biting down on your bottom lip as he fills the condom inside you.

That night isn’t the last night it happens. He comes over sometimes, either when you message or sometimes just when he wants you. Sometimes you wear a blindfold, sometimes he wears a balaclava, a costume mask, or the classic hat pulled low and a facemask. But it happens again and again, TY satisfying you in bed, only to leave immediately after. He never stays, not that you blame him. That keeps it as casual as it can be.

The only issue arises one early spring morning, about three and a half months into your new life in Seoul.

You’re rolling out of bed, feeling the sweet ache in your muscles of having been fucked well the night before, when your foot bumps against something. It’s his, that’s something you realize immediately. A necklace he always wears, but it must’ve fallen off last night when you were clinging to his neck as he bent you backwards off the bed, laughing against your neck as you moaned and cried and laughed that he was gonna break your bed.

For safekeeping, you put the necklace on, liking the way it falls against your chest. It’s a thin gold chain with a charm shaped like a dog’s head. It’s precious, and you can’t help wondering if TY has a dog, or what this necklace means that he wears it so much.

You think nothing else of it as you get ready for work, nor as your day begins at work. It’s not until one of your coworkers approaches you to ask you a question, as you lean forward to look at a document she’s showing you that you even remember you’re wearing the necklace. It swings forward from the front of your blouse, the gold charm catching the light.

“Oh?” The other woman says, looking at it. “I didn’t know you’re an NCTzen, unnie!” She smiles brightly.

To be frank, you don’t know why that is. “What are you talking about?”

She laughs. “Your necklace. My best friend is Yongie biased, and she’s got a necklace just like this.”

Now, in the months you’ve been living in Seoul, learning the culture and the language, you’ve picked up a few things about K-pop music, the groups, the idols. It would be impossible not to when you see the handsome and beautiful faces of idols watching you from ads all over the city. So you understand when she talks about a bias she’s talking about her friend’s favorite member of a group, but you don’t know which group, and you don’t truly understand the relevance at the moment.

TY probably just bought this necklace from the same brand as your coworker’s friend, which apparently has something to do with an idol named Yongie or Yonghee or maybe even Younghee, you’re still not the best at differentiating similar sounding syllables.

Again, you forget about the necklace and your coworker’s reaction until later that afternoon as you’re leaving work for the day. You stop in a cafe on your walk home, just wanting a quick drink, maybe one of the pretty cakes in the display case. But while you’re in there, there’s a couple teen girls sitting at a table, giggling over their phones. While you stand in line, you pick up enough from their excited conversation to know that they’re talking about a male idol updating on Instagram.

Reminded of the necklace, you pull out your phone to search first all the iterations of Yongie/Yonghee/Younghee that you can think of. You get a few results, but nothing that really helps solve your mystery. But when you search that along with NCTzen, you find a result.

You look at the first picture that comes up, grabbed from a news article posted online earlier today about an upcoming album release for NCT, a boy group. There’s a pretty handsome man standing on-stage in the middle of performing, his heavily made up eyes sparkle, and you get the appeal. When you look at him your belly does a silly swoop that you only ever feel when you have a crush.

You swipe backwards, returning to the search results, and you type in ‘dog necklace’ alongside the name and what is apparently the fandom name. This yields more results. A close up picture of a neck and chest, a necklace almost if not exactly identical to the one around your neck.

You click on the image, and when the article it’s been pulled from loads, you see second photo beside the first. A small tattoo that matches the charm on the necklace. Curious, you scroll further down in the article, wondering if it’ll mention the brand name of this necklace anywhere. But as you scroll down past a chunk of text you don’t want to read, you see another picture of a tattoo, this one of a bunny. And then another, a whale. You scroll past a few more, and then you see one that makes you go still.

You don’t even hear the barista call out you name the first two times. You’re too busy staring at your phone in confusion and slight shock at the sight of a tattoo of astroboy.

Everything about it from the color to the placement to the exact shape of it is too familiar to be a coincidence. Over the last several weeks of getting TY in your bed, various stages of undress, though he usually wears his shirt, you’ve gotten a couple glimpses of the tattoo at his hip. And it looks the same as the one in this picture.

The barista calls your name one more time, and you finally hear him, thanking him and apologizing as you take your to-go order from him.

You leave the cafe with your mind reeling, trying to find a way to quickly translate this article. Maybe it’s just talking about tattoos all done by a certain artist, although they don’t all seem to be done in the same style. Maybe it’s something, you don’t know what, but something that means anything other than that you’ve been anonymously fucking an idol.

You can’t find a translation of the article, so you search instead. You get back to your apartment, plop yourself on the sofa, and start searching.

You learn several things very quickly.

NCT has a member, the leader of the group actually, named Lee Taeyong. He has a few nicknames, one of which is TY. He has a necklace with a little golden dog head charm that one of the members had custom-made for him after Taeyong’s dog Ruby passed away. He has a tattoo of the dog. He has several tattoos, including Astroboy on his hip. Also he recently dyed his hair lavender for the upcoming album release. The fans love it, as do you. Though at the present moment, you feel a little bit like ripping your own hair out.

What the fuck?

How did you just accidentally discover the identity of TY? Your mysterious, anonymous lover had clearly been so careful to avoid this exact thing. He did his best to hide his tattoos, he hid his face. He didn’t even let you see his hair color normally, you only caught it in glimpses. But everything makes sense now. Why he’d been so easy to convince to keep this anonymous. Why he’d been so busy some days at such odd hours. It made sense too why he’d been in LA and New York.

Everything just clicks into place, and you wonder if maybe you should’ve been able to figure this out a long time ago.

Going along with the theme of you forgetting things all day, you’d forgotten that the night before you’d agreed to TY—Taeyong, your mind helpfully reminds you—coming over this evening. You forgot too that you’d given him the code to your door when last week you wanted him to surprise you with the balaclava on, roleplay a little robber and helpless victim.

So when you hear the sudden beeping of the door code being entered, your heart leaps into panicked overdrive.

You drop your phone, somehow kick it as well, and it goes flying all the way across the floor. Skidding and spinning, it comes to a stop right at the feet of your unmasked masked lover.

He closes the door, looking down at your phone. Specifically, looking down at his own face staring back up at him.

When he doesn’t look up for a long stretch of seconds that expand into a minute threatening two minutes, you clear your throat.

“Are you an idol?”

It almost sounds silly to ask aloud. What if you’re wrong? You’re going to look ridiculous.

But there’s all the evidence too. You can’t be wrong.

“Is there any point in me telling you no?” He asks.

He stoops down at last, picking up your phone before he stands back up. He doesn’t move any closer than just inside the door. He only tosses your phone over to you, looking right at you.

“How did you find out?” His voice is low, a mix of sad and disappointed, disgruntled and concerned.

“You left this here,” you say, already reaching up to unclasp the necklace. “I put it on just so I wouldn’t lose it again before I could give it back to you. One of my coworkers, she saw it, and she said her friend is a fan of, um, I guess a fan of yours. I was just curious what she was talking about, I didn’t think she meant you. Well, my version of you, anyway. But I looked it up, I saw a search result that showed your tattoos. The one on your hip.”

TY— Taeyong sighs.

You watch as he lifts a hand, reaching for the beanie he’s wearing today. Faded purple locks appear as he tosses the beanie over onto the small table beside your door. He runs his fingers through his hair a little, and then he moves his hand down to his facemask.

When he pulls it off, sending it over to join his beanie, you look at your mystery man’s face for the first time after these several months.

He avoids eye contact as you look at him, as you drink in his handsome face, his familiar eyes, the lips you’ve kissed so many times.

“Taeyong,” you murmur his name.

His gaze snaps up to yours. There’s heat in his eyes.

“Do you hate me for figuring it out?” You ask.

“Do you hate me for not telling you?” He fidgets, shaking the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands, then he folds his arms over his chest. “Is this gonna be over now? Now that you know, that takes all the fun out of it for you, doesn’t it?”

As if you were only fucking him for the fun of not knowing who he was. You scoff. “Are you fucking serious? I like you, asshole. You’re great in bed, you’re good to me. I know we don’t really know each other. That was the whole premise of this, but I like you. I don’t know who Taeyong is, but I have an idea of who TY is, and I like that guy. So I’m sure if I merge the two of you together, I’ll still like you. I’ll still want to have sex with you. As long as your stage persona isn’t bad in bed, I don’t see a problem.”

That draws a laugh from him at last.

“And now,” you say, “I also get to look at your pretty face. You’ve had the pleasure all along of seeing mine, so now it’s my turn.” You stand up from the sofa, approaching him.

He doesn’t balk, doesn’t look like he wants you to stop. In fact he settles, sinking into a comfortable standing pose, shifting so when you come to stand in front of him, the pair of you fit together.

“Also, now I can do this,” you cup Taeyong’s sharp jaw with your hand as you say, “without getting fuzz from that mask in the way.”

You kiss him, pressing your mouth to his. Taeyong opens up, meeting your kiss eagerly, hungrily. He’s wrapping himself around you—an arm around your waist, one curling behind your shoulder as his hand lifts to the back of your head to angle your lips against his.

It’s nice having that fucking balaclava out of the way. Beside the fuzzy bits that snuck into your mouth during kisses, the material of it often rubbed your cheeks, itchy and uncomfortable at times. Now it’s just Taeyong’s warm, smooth cheeks.

You want to touch him everywhere. Your fingers leave his jaw, tickling against his earrings before you press your fingers through his purple hair. He smiles when you pull a bit at it, biting your bottom lip in response.

“Can you take your clothes off,” you ask, murmuring the question against his lips, unwilling to give up kissing him just yet. “I really want to see you without your shirt on.”

He moans deep in his throat, the sound half a laugh. “Didn’t you see those pictures online in your research?”

You break the kiss, pouting a little at him. Taeyong only smiles wider, leaning back in to nudge his nose against yours. “I wanna see it in person,” you whine.

He doesn’t disappoint you.

It’s still early evening, the sky outside not quite dark yet. The sun is setting over the city, and the last rays of sunlight burnish the clouds, fiery bronze against the dusky blue of the settling night sky.

That same rich orange light glows against Taeyong’s skin as he finally peels his shirt over his head. The shirt falls, a dozen tattoos revealed, and you want to taste all of them on your tongue.

You want to kiss his stomach and his hips, want to leave your mark on him, touch his nipples without the barrier of his shirt because you’ve known his nipples are sensitive when you’d touched them over the shirt while you sucked his cock.

His pants go next, and there he stands in front of you in only his underwear, bulge straining the front of the fabric.

Taeyong moans in delight when you press yourself against him once more. You kiss him again, unable to stay away for long, and your hands slide his underwear down over his hips, leaving him fully naked for the first time with you.

You’re wet already, just from kissing him, but when he slides his hand between your thighs, skimming his fingers up your bare thigh to beneath the skirt you wore to work today, you can feel yourself instantly growing wetter. His fingers rise up, meeting your slit through your panties, rubbing his finger there teasingly until you’re moaning into the kiss, reaching for his wrist to hold onto.

Taeyong pulls his hand away, bringing both up to your blouse, drawing it out from where it was tucked into the skirt. His fingers fumble with the bottom buttons, trying to work his way up, but now that he’s touched you, you’re feeling impatient.

“Just tear it. Rip it,” you tell him. “I’ll just buy a new one.”

He grips both sides of your shirt, pressing his lips harshly against yours as he gives a hard tug. You hear the fabric rip, hear the buttons pop, a few bouncing across the floor, rolling under furniture. Not that you care. You shake the remnants of your blouse off your shoulders, Taeyong’s lips scatter hot kisses along your jaw, your hands sink to his erection, the hot weight of it pressing against the front of your skirt, against your thigh.

He murmurs something you can’t quite catch in Korean. His cheek skimming along your jaw, lips ghosting a sensitive spot high on your throat.

“Hmm?” You hum inquisitively, but you don’t listen for his answer, now when Taeyong’s fingers curl in your skirt, pulling it down just as roughly as he’d just torn your blouse. You step out of the skirt, pressing yourself forward against him, stroking your hands upward on his cock in a way that makes Taeyong’s ears turn pink, a needy sound escaping his throat.

“Wait,” he sighs, his tongue tracing a section of your jaw before his lips take over again. “Turn around for me.”

You do just that. Circling around so your back is to him. His fingers tuck in the band of your panties, disposing of them only slightly more gently than he’d done your skirt.

“Pretty,” he tells you, lowering his mouth to your shoulder and neck, he steps around beside you, his chest against your right arm while he scatters kisses over the top of your shoulder, up your throat. “So pretty for me.”

He trails a finger down your spine, from the base of your neck all the way to the base of your tailbone, right above your ass.

“Taeyong,” you moan softly, a shiver pulled from you. You swear you can feel your pussy dripping, leaking down your thigh. “I need you.“

“Say it again,” he says, his voice a hum against your shoulder.

“I need you,” you repeat first, and then, “Taeyong.”

His hand comes down against your ass, a good, solid smack that brings a loud moan from your lips. You’re definitely dripping, you can feel how sticky you are between your thighs, and to your utter delight, Taeyong slips his fingers down from your plump ass, down lower until his fingers tease against your pussy.

Taeyong stuffs you with two of his fingers right away, your wetness squishing between his fingers, the sound audible in your apartment as he fucks you on his fingers, his lips busy leaving a mark on your shoulders in the same spot as a tattoo that he has. He scissors his fingers inside you, curling them, and still you grow wetter, resting back against his chest as your legs shake.

And when Taeyong slides his other hand down in front of you, stimulating your clit from the front, you can’t contain your whimpers and cries any longer.

You buck your hips, riding his fingers, desperate cries of pleasure tie in with his name pouring from your tongue as if you’re so familiar with it.

His fingers glisten with your juice, slick and sticky as he pulls his fingers away from your needy, clenching entrance. Instead you watch over your shoulder as he wraps those fingers around his cock, jerking himself off. You twist around, his face taken between both hands, you crush your lips against his.

Taeyong moans, reaching for your thigh with his free hand, lifting it to his hip.

You use protection, you always do, and right now as he’s about to fuck you right here in the middle of the apartment, you realize there are no condoms within reach, but you really don’t want to move. Not as Taeyong ruts his cock against your inner thigh. Not as he glides through your wetness.

“Fuck it. Just this once,” you think. You’re on birth control, you just normally prefer using two methods.

You wrap your arms around Taeyong as he does you, your leg high on his hip as he sinks right inside you.

It’s different right now. Somehow.

Maybe it’s because you can see his face clearly. You can look in his eyes unhindered as he moans at the soft warmth of you wrapped around him. Maybe it’s that there’s an all new open layer of vulnerability here between you two, one that seems like it’s changing everything while keeping things the same, just better.

You’re not claiming Taeyong. Not telling him that he has to be anything to you. This can all still be a secret. He can still just be your hook-up, your fuckbuddy. No strings necessary.

But you can’t deny that you’ve got that fluttery feeling in your belly. The crush feeling. An attraction based in something deeper than just physical appearance.

When Taeyong pulls your other thigh up to his hip on the other side, seating his cock deep inside you while holding you up, you think that you don’t care what changes as long as you still get this.

Taeyong moves, surprising you with his strength as he carries you back over to the sofa. He lowers you down into the edge of the sofa, kneeling down as well so he never has to pull out, and you just pull his mouth against yours, wanting to kiss him breathless.

He pulls your hips right to the edge of the sofa, making needy sounds as he kisses you back, as he starts thrusting into you. Taeyong hips snap forward again and again, both of you gasping against each other’s mouths. It’s frenzied and desperate, the way you move against and with each other in those moments.

“Baby,” Taeyong moans. “Baby, I wanna wake up with you. God, you’re so warm, I want to stay here.” He pressed in deep, grinding against you as if he can possibly get any deeper.

“Stay, Taeyong,” you sigh, dragging your nails over his back. “You can cum. Then stay.”

You’re not sure if he means it. He’s never stayed before, never waited long enough after cumming for it to even be an accidental possibility. But tonight things are different. Tonight Taeyong presses up into you, pushing off the floor, tipping you back deeper into the sofa, pushing your legs towards your chest, his lips against yours, and he groans deep in his throat as he cums inside you.

And he stays. His hips planted against yours, rocking in tiny motions, grinding in little circles that rub right against your clit and that spot inside you, and this time your orgasm is like snapping a wire. Your body goes taut in the initial wave, head thrown back, his name cascading from your lips as your nails rake down his back.

You swear he cums a little more from the pain of your nails digging into skin, but you’re a little too far gone to be certain.

Taeyong doesn’t pull out of you, he just rests his cheek against your shoulder, trying to catch his breath from the intensity of it. He asks carefully, “Did you mean it? Me staying tonight?”

You’re still buzzing with the white heat of your orgasm, your pussy still throbbing around his cock going soft inside you. Yeah you were serious. You don’t want him going anywhere. “As long as you meant it,” you reply, turning your face to the side, burying your nose in his hair. “My bed is yours for the night. Though I don’t see either of us moving any time soon.”

Taeyong chuckles in agreement. Then there’s a momentary pause. “So, this is as good a time as any,” Taeyong pants, shifting his sweaty cheek on your shoulder, lifting his head, and asking, “But what’s your name?”

You laugh, the sound bubbling out of you before you can help it. All of this, and you’ve forgotten that you’ve never told him your name. You lean in, tucking your laughter against Taeyong’s shoulder for a moment before you lift your head. You relinquish the last little bit of anonymity as you whisper your name against his lips.

a/n: I apologize for any typos/major grammar errors, I didn’t really edit this before posting it, but I will go back and check it over soon!! Thank you for reading!!

#taeyong smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #taeyong #nct #nct 127 #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #nct kinktober #i promise it's better than i made the summary sound

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corporatefrog · 1 year

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꒦‧₊ ꒷ headcannons: team stan with a careless friend✧.*

✧.* tags: college au

✧.* Characters: kenny mccormick, kyle broflovski, stan marsh, eric cartman, butters stotch

a/n: I usually don't add cartman to these things bc he stinks+loser+annoying+suckmydick but I know he'd take advantage of someone who hod so sense of mortality so he gets a pass this time ig.

masterlist

Kenny

He mistakes the carelessness for spontaneity and immediately assigns you as his go to “lets do something stupid I just thought of” partner

He’s a “try everything once” kind of guy so it’s perfect that you have no sense of self preservation

“Kenny stand on the other side of the field, I wanna see how far I can throw my phone.”

“Okay.”

You both infuriate stan to no end

#annoyingduo in the best way possible

Do NOT put the two of you in the same room at a party

All of a sudden there’s a 15 person game of just dance happening but there’s no screen?? You’re all just doing moves you saw on just dance

Everyday is a new adventure

Kenny probably has an eye out for you though

He can die doing something stupid and be back the next day but you on the other hand are not

Gotta keep his partner in crime alive! There’s a bunch of other things on his “before I die (for real)” bucket list that you still need to mark off

Kyle

You just get caught up in the moment! You have such a wonder for life!

Kyle doesn’t get it sometimes seeing as he tries to view everything logically.

He’s more like a babysitter when you both go somewhere

“You did not just spend $300 on knock off jordans from a random man on the street corner.”

“I did and they’re the comfiest shoes I’ve ever worn. He told me they’ll cure my posture problems.”

“Do you just believe anything someone tells you?”

“Coming from someone who almost cried when I didn’t use his Candy Crush referral code so he could get more lives, that’s really rich.”

Okay so he gets swept up in trends sometimes. At least he understands his own mortality!

After the third time you try to learn how to do a backflip and fail miserably, he has to leave the room to keep from screaming

keeps a mental count of the things you do every day that should kill you

the current record is 14

Stan

He doesn’t understand how you can just go through your day without a care

Are you not afraid of dying? That’s like 32% of his thoughts during the day

“Fuck I dropped my credit card down the drain. Stan, hold my ankles while I reach down to grab it.”

“I can literally see the used heroin needles down there.”

“Okay and??? Not my fault the city doesn’t have a safe use zone, I need that card!”

One time you guys were leaving a store and the alarm went off

Stan turned to ask you if you got the security tags removed but you we’re already sprinting halfway across the mall

Not because you stole anything, but because you saw jimmy, clyde, and tolkien walking out of a store and wanted to say hi

And then you spent the rest of the day being lectured by an underpaid paul blart wannabe

Stan was freaking out because he thought you would get arrested for causing a scene or something (they find any reason to arrest someone in south park)

But all you did was laugh in that light hearted, careless way you always do

Cartman

Bro will manipulate your carelessness for all its worth

You are now the second person he calls when he has some stupid plot that needs someone who doesn’t understand the concept of death

If kenny’s busy, you’re on speed dial

Honestly, you’re probably the first call because you’ll do something stupid without needing to be paid!

Free labor!

Wanna work at dicknbaus hot dogs for 14 hours with no pay? It’s free hotdogs! You’re in!

Hes an exploitative motherfucker

Thats all im here to say about it

butters

You’re going to give him a heart attack

One time you purposely kicked a medicine ball to see how far it would go and broke your foot

And he was more worried about your foot than you were!

“Oh jesus, can you move it?”

“Um… no I don’t think so. Lemme take off my sock”

“AH ITS PURPLE!”

“Oh damn, you’re right. That’s a nice shade though, I was thinking of painting my room that color!”

“NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE TALKING ABOUT THIS”

Unlike kyle, he can’t force himself to ignore your careless nature

He’s always worrying about you

He’ll suggest you both go to first aid classes or cpr training whenever you hang out “just for fun!”

but really he needs to know that you at least have some first aid knowledge if you're going to keep running around like death is a social construct

#you can't care about living if you're in south park tbh #there's a level of idiocy that's necessary to survive there lmao #south park #south park headcanons #south park x reader #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #butters stotch #corporatefrog

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cathyun · 1 year

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It's a Cat!

pairing: kang taehyun x reader genre: fluff, crack (just spreading cat taehyun agenda tbh) wc: 1.2k warnings: mentions of food, thats all i think summary: in which taehyun turns into a cat and the reader is there to help.

After you received an uncountable amount of texts from Taehyun, most of it being keyboard smashes and random words that did not make sense, you decided to investigate and go to his house to find out what happened. Out of worry and curiosity.

Having Taehyun texting you so much was already extremely out of character, but seeing the contents of his texts are much more concerning.

As soon as you step foot in his house, what you least expected to find was a distressed cat standing above a phone. Taehyun's phone.

You raised a brow at this. Taehyun does not own a cat, and neither was he careless enough to leave his phone on the floor with a cat above it.

Speaking of Taehyun, he was nowhere to be found. You decided to look around his house, in search for the owner himself.

The cat trailed after you, letting out a loud meow each turn you take. The longer you searched, the louder the cat would meow. It would even block your path sometimes, but you would only pet it's head and continue your search.

This time however, when the cat blocked your way and you lowered yourself to pet it, it bit you.

"Hey! What was that for?" You exclaimed. The bite wasn't hard enough to hurt you, but it still shocked you. The cat didn't reply with a meow this time and only ran ahead of you. You swore you saw it roll its eyes before running, but it could be your eyes tricking you.

Seeing that Taehyun was nowhere to be found anyways, you decided to just help this cat. And so, you follow where it went.

As soon as you saw the cat, it jumped up from furniture to furniture until it reached a certain picture frame. A framed picture of Taehyun to be exact. You tilted your head in confusion when the cat tapped Taehyun's face and meowed.

"Yeah, that's Taehyun. You know him?" You asked the cat. It seemed to respond to your question when it released another long meow. You only stood in confusion.

The cat tapped the picture again and meowed, waiting for you to come into realization.

And come to realization you did.

"No... No way." Your mouth parted in disbelief. The cat merely glanced at you, meowing one more time as if to tell you, "Yes. Yes way."

"It can't be, right? Taehyun, turned into a cat. That's just impossible. And now I'm going crazy talking to a cat." You rambled as the cat jumped off of the table where the picture frame was. The cat — or based on your latest revelation, Taehyun, walked towards you.

He sat next to you as you tried to sink in the information. Now that you thought about it, the possibility was large. He was probably contacting you when he turned and that would explain why a random cat was here and was clicking his phone.

You looked at him and blinked. He blinked back. That was when you noticed how similar the cat looked to Taehyun.

"How did all of this happen anyway?" It seemed impossible, transforming to a cat. Taehyun nudged his phone that still sat on the floor, he clicked and clicked with his paw to the best of his capability. He stopped when he reached a contact number. A very familiar one.

"Kai?"

Taehyun nods his head. You took his phone and called the number. It only took a few rings before the person on the other end picked up.

"Before you say anything, it was a mistake! I didn't mean it!" Kai screamed. Taehyun hissed and you released a laugh. "Woah. Calm down, this is Y/n."

With that, Kai seemed to calm down for a bit. "But Taehyun is still pissed." You continued, glancing to the cat that sat beside you. He meowed in agreement.

Kai winced from the other end, "He has every right to be pissed. Is he still, y'know, a cat?" He asked carefully.

"Yep. If you know how to turn him back that would be very helpful."

"No need to worry! I read the instructions and it'll wear off in a few hours." He assured, to which both you and Taehyun sigh in relief to.

"Alright, thanks. I hope you know Taehyun is probably plotting something against you." You laughed. Kai only sighed, accepting his fate. "I kinda deserve it. But how would I know those cookies had side effects?"

"So it started with a cookie...?"

"Yeah, I bought it from a site. It seemed pretty sketchy... Anyways, keep me updated!"

"Will do! I'll call again in a few hours. Thanks again." And with that, the call ended.

You looked at Taehyun once again to find him already looking at you. "Well, you hungry?"

You've done everything you could think of. You already ate, tried to play with Taehyun, watched a movie together. You even tried to make him pur, much to his displeasure.

Right now though, you both are lounging in the couch, tired. It would only take a few more minutes before he turns back again. As much as you liked having cat Taehyun around, you were starting to miss human Taehyun.

Sure. He looks cute as a cat and is super cuddly too, but if you were to pick between the two, you would have to pick human Taehyun. You would never say that out loud.

You scrolled aimlessly through your social media, your other hand petting Taehyun's head unconsciously. Although he'd deny it once you begin teasing him about it, you could feel him purring whenever you touch his head or the spot behind his ear.

A sudden poof! resonated within Taehyun's living room and the light weight above your lap vanished, now replaced with a much more heavy and much more human Taehyun.

He looked up and you saw the doe eyes you missed so much.

"Well, hello there." He shot you a toothy grin that shows his dimples. His smile immediately faded as he placed his hand in his forehead, "God, my head hurts."

You stood up and went to give him some water. He said his thanks and he chugged it all in a second. When he finished, you stared at each other, the silence giving you time to process what has happened in the pass few hours.

And now both of you are a giggling mess, struggling to say anything without your laughter interrupting you.

"Welcome back." You smiled, hugging his figure. He hugged back, before pulling away. "Y'know, I was getting kind of used to cat Taehyun."

He raised a brow, fixing his clothes, "You want me to transform into a cat again or?"

"Hm, maybe. But I think prefer talking to you again. How was it being a cat?" You asked, and he huffed in reply. "It was hard in the beginning, specially since someone was too focused on searching for someone that's already infront of them." He spoke jokingly. You laughed in response.

"How was I supposed to know you were the cat!"

"Instinct." He shrugged. You rolled your eyes with a smile as you stare at him, never realizing how much you missed him until he was standing here in front of you.

"I wonder how it feels being a cat."

"I'm sure Kai has more of those cookies."

#taehyun x reader #taehyun x y/n #taehyun imagines #txt taehyun #taehyun fluff #txt x reader #txt x yn #txt #kang taehyun #txt imagines #txt reactions #` tooth rotting fluff . . ♡#` crack . . ✿⁠

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currentlyfckingurmom · 10 months

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Until My Lungs Give Out

Florence Pugh x reader

You sat a few rows back from the front, watching the stage with a dorky smile on your face. Your best friend, Chris Evans, had invited you to be his plus one to the Oscar’s. As an up-and-coming musician, you’d been to award shows, but they paled in comparison to this.

The room thrummed with anticipation as the actor on stage announced the next award. “And the winner of Best Actress in a Leading Role goes to…Michelle Yeoh for Everything Everywhere All at Once!”

You cheered and clapped along with everyone else, but couldn’t help the tinge of disappointment you felt. “I was hoping Florence Pugh would win,” you tell Chris.

“Yeah, cause you have a crush on her,” he laughs.

“No! Because she’s an extremely talented actress and I respect her work!”

“Yeah, okay.”

Later on at the after party, you were making your way back to Chris and some other friends with your next round of drinks. Somewhere between the third and fourth round, you had lost the blazer of your suit and were left in a lacy corset top. Laughing as you see Chris dancing like an idiot, you fail to notice the blonde walking in front of you.

Your paths collide. You manage to avoid getting her soaked in alcohol, with only a couple of the glasses tipping over on the tray.

“Oh shit! Oh, god, I am so sorry,” you say at the same time she says “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you!”

“Guess I should pay more attention to where I’m going,” you chuckle as you stand up the fallen glasses. It’s then that you look up and realize exactly who you had just run into. “Holy shit, you’re Florence Pugh.”

“That I am,” she smiles softly. “Okay, so you know my name. I think it’s only fair that I know yours.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you greet, extending a handshake. You try not to revel in how soft her hands are.

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Wait, like the singer?”

“That’s me,” you nod shyly.

“That’s so cool!”

“Thank you. I’m surprise you know my music. I’m still pretty small in the industry. Look, I’m, I should probably get back to my friends. They’re waiting on their drinks. But I’d love it if you came and hung out with us for a while?”

“I’d love to,” she smiles. “Lead the way.”

Chris only chastises you mildly for the spillage of the drinks, but you hand him one of the in-tact drinks and patted his arm with a false pout. Florence blended in perfectly with your little group of friends, joking with Sebastian and ganging up on you with Chris.

You’re way more drunk than you think as you ask Florence to dance with you. She agrees with an excited look in her fierce, glassy eyes.

The beat thrums in your chest as you spin her around, jumping up and down with no rhythm. Your laughs are careless and free, and you don’t ever want the song to end.

But, as reality goes, the song ended and another came on. You groaned at the familiar beat, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

“Oh my god, it’s your song!” Florence yells. “Why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy?”

“I don’t know, it’s just weird. I’m not embarrassed of my music but it’s really personal and it’s just awkward sometimes.”

“Well, I can understand that. But rest assured, I love this song,” she whispers with a glint in her eye.

You swallow nervously as she grabs your hand and pulls you closer.

What becomes of I

After we have died?

Belly up and scream

Life’s a bitter feeling

You could be anything

Anything you want

Oh, you know better

Don’t you know better? Yeah

Florence sings along and you have a hard time processing the fact that she knows the words to your song.

You could do what you choose

You’d abuse it all

Oh, you know better

Don’t you know better?

Your muscles loosen up as your hands find her waist. Your body swings with hers as you both scream the lyrics like fools.

So I made a mistake

Wound up on the floor

With something inside my veins

Maybe i have no place

It keeps me at war

Belly up and be saved, my child

Florence’s hands roam your body, setting your cheeks ablaze.

Stuffed with corporate lies

Stretched on a disguise

Reach inside the dark

Hands are ripped apart

A dangerous smirk rests on her face and your stomach clenches at the sight, wanting nothing more than to kiss it off her pretty face.

You could be anything

Anything you want

Oh you know better

Don’t you know better? Yeah

You could do what you choose

You’d abuse it all

Oh you know better

Don’t you know better

The song continues, as do the sway of your bodies, growing closer with each beat. Her face draws nearer to yours, her heavy breath ghosting your lips. Before you have a chance to close the gap, she laughs and pulls away, leading you by the hand off the dance floor.

“What do you say we get out of here? I know a twenty-four hour taco place that’ll change your life.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” you agree. I’d go anywhere with you.

You think you should feel a little silly walking into a greasy taco joint, dressed to the nines at two in the morning, but with Florence by your side, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Your orders were ready in less than five minutes and you tore into the paper bag, practically moaning at the delicious carne asada tacos.

“See? I told you. Life-changing.”

“You were so right. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.”

She sees something over your shoulder that makes her eyes light up. Curious, you turn around to see what she’s scheming. You spot a karaoke stage and immediately tense up.

“No. Nuh-uh. No way. Don’t even suggest it, Florence.”

“Aw, come on! It’ll be fun,” she pouts. You wish you could resist it. She must see your resolve crumble, you think, because she grabs your hand and drags you to the stage with a smile on your face. “I won’t do one of your songs, I promise.”

You roll your eyes dramatically as she selects “Sober/Hungover.” She fails to notice your reaction and immediately immerses herself in the music. You sing along perfectly, not needing the screen to tell you the lyrics. You made them, after all.

When the song finishes, you laugh with Florence as the restaurant crew claps and cheers from behind the counter.

“Hey, Flo? You know I wrote that song, right?” You asked with a slight blush, laughing.

“Wait, what?” Her smile drops. “Did you really?!” You nod and she slaps you on the chest, mumbling something along the lines of you could’ve told me.

“I wrote and sold a lot of songs before I got the courage to sing them myself. That’s one of ‘em.”

“Oh. Well I’m glad you started singing them yourself. You have a beautiful voice.” You blush at the compliment. “What made you finally record your own songs?”

“Um, my mother died unexpectedly of a heart attack. I wrote a song for her, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell it, but I knew I wanted the world to hear it.”

“I’m so sorry, darling. I’ll bet she’s proud of you.”

“I hope so.”

Sensing the night coming to a close, you share a moment of silence, risking small glances at one another.

“Hey, Flo? This might sound a little crazy, considering we’ve only known each other a few hours. But I really don’t want this night to end.”

“Me neither.”

“Maybe you could come back to mine? I’ve got a song that I’d really like your input on.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she smiles genuinely.

Back at the apartment, you give her a small tour, stopping in your bedroom to pull out comfier clothes for each of you. You silently thank your past self for cleaning up your messy apartment the day before. She changes in the bathroom while you change in your room, and then you lead her to your in-home studio.

You try to calm your nerves as you prepare to play the song, but your hands shake a bit. Your songs are so personal to you; it’s like opening your diary and pouring your heart and soul out for the world to see.

“Y/N, you don’t have to show me if you’re not comfortable. I’m happy to be here either way.”

“No, no, I want to. This song I’ve been working on is really close to me. I want you to hear it before anyone else does.”

She doesn’t say it, but the fact that you’re showing her this song before anyone else pulls at her heart strings.

You blow out a slow breath, adjusting your grip on the guitar . Florence sits silently next to you.

Your fingers begin to dance across the strings, the muscles recognizing the familiar pattern.

“Take my soul, take my heart

Tear me apart

If I’m good for anything

It’s all of this suffering

So use me for parts

To you I’m just salvage

I ain’t ran right in years

So drive me then gut me

Deceive and fuck me

And then disappear

Take all my jokes

And tell them to them

And act like your someone

That could be someone worth loving

And steal all the good parts you found in me

Yeah you’ll sell ‘em quick, yeah,

You’ll sell em cheap

Hey, you’ll give ‘em for free

But I cleaned all my pistons

I’m runnin’ on 91

And I’m piecing myself back off the shelf

One by one

And now I’ve got a driver

Who chooses the high road

They don’t use me for scraps

Or throw my ass back

When I hit potholes

And I’m flyin’ down freeways, going 117

And a ‘68 Fastback looks like a hatchback racing me

I believe, you cannot tear down what’s built up strong now, thankfully

Oh, I believe that you cannot tear down what’s built up strong now, thankfully

And I’m flying down freeways, going 117

And a ‘68 Fastback looks like a hatchback next to me”

You finish the song, setting the guitar down on its stand next to your stool. You risk a nervous glance at Florence, but you can’t really read her expression. Her eyes are wide and glassy and her lips are parted slightly.

“So…did you like it?”

She darts forward, placing a quick peck on your lips. She's gone before you have the chance to reciprocate. You look at her with wide eyes, shocked by what just happened.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I totally misread that, didn’t I? It’s just—we were clicking so well and then we came back here and you played that song and it’s— I guess guitars really do work on girls because-“

You cut her off by leaning forward and pressing your lips to hers. She makes a small shocked noise before melting into you, bringing her hands to the back of your neck and head. You pull her in closer by the waist, kissing her lips soft and slow.

“You didn’t misread anything, Florence,” you whisper when you break apart.

“I think I quite like it when you sing.”

“If it prompts that reaction, I’d sing until my lungs give out.”

Music: “Belly Up” by Return to Dust, “Sober/Hungover” by Sueco & Arizona Zervas, and “68 Fastback” by Zach Bryan

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #yelena belova #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #yelena belova x reader #flo pugh

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nocreativityfornames · 8 months

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When Solomon Is The Only One To Never Forget About MC's Blindness

This was my first time getting submitted a request that didn't came from the ask box and it confused me a bit because I didn't know how it worked but hey, here it is! Also, the type of blindness wasn't specified, so I just went in with total blindness in mind? Anyway, thanks for the request!

Lucifer

➺ Now, usually he's very attentive to MC's condition and is always making accommodations for them. Sometimes though, he still lets it slip.

➺ Today was one of those days, Lucifer, MC, and Solomon were working on a class project together, and without thinking, the eldest asked MC for the pen near their side of the table.

➺ The realization hit when Solomon called out his name, making him look up from his papers and at the situation at hand.

➺ Lucifer cleared his throat, trying not to make his embarrassment visible. "My apologies, that was careless of me." He grabs the pen himself, failing to hide his blush as Solomon chuckles and MC smiles, finding amusement in what had happened.

➺ Damn sorcerer, giving him more reasons to hate him... ( he's so bitter )

Mammon

➺ As much as I love Mammon, I have to be honest, he'd probably be one forgetting it the most. It's in the most harmless moments though, so it's not much of a bother.

➺ This time MC was in the living room, discussing something with Solomon and Satan. Mid-conversation, Mammon slammed the door open, excitement clear in his face as he threw the newest edition of a fashion magazine on the table in front of MC.

➺ "Look who's on the front cover of the Devildom's most famous magazine, yer first man Mammon!"

➺ He was met with awkward silence and immediately realized his mistake upon looking at everyone's faces. Fuck, he did it again.

➺ Immediately goes beet red while everyone laughs. No matter how many times it happens, it never gets less embarrassing...

Leviathan

➺ He clowns on Mammon for forgetting about MC's blindness all the time, but has had plenty of embarrassing moments where he did the same thing too.

➺ "And this is the character!" He has a big smile on his face as he shows MC the screen of his phone, presenting them with the character in question.

➺ Cue him freezing in place as he's met with a little chuckle from MC. He wants to die from embarrassment, to melt away and disappear from existence completely. Why????

➺ "A-Ahaha, sorry for that...!" He looks away trying to hide his face and the sorcerer, who was there beside him the entire time, can't help but let out a laugh.

➺ "Pff, why are you hiding your face? MC can't see you!" Solomon, stop, you're killing him!

Satan

➺ Out of the brothers he's the one who tends to forget it the least, still, it happens sometimes.

➺ The first time is when he comes back from the kitchen to his room, and finds Solomon and MC there. Solomon, who at the moment, was flipping through a very old family album with embarrassing baby pictures that Satan had no wish to let anyone see.

➺ "Don't show that to MC!" He's exclaims louder than intended, his face burning red.

➺ And he gets even redder when he realizes. Fuck, Solomon is not letting him live this down, is he?

➺ "I don't think you need to worry about that." Solomon grins at him teasingly. This man should be thankful that he's immortal, otherwise...

Asmodeus

➺ The three of them are out shipping, and Asmo finds himself in a dilemma, unsure of what clothes to buy for MC.

➺ "Ooh, what's your favorite color? That'll make it easier to pick!" Asmo glances at MC expectantly, smiling at them.

➺ ......

➺ "MC doesn't have a favorite color, Asmo." Solomon answers with a polite smile. He's still confused. "They can't see the colors, Asmo..."

➺ Oh! "Whoops! Right, so sorry hun!" He laughs it off, finding the situation funny himself. He's probably one of the only ones who don't get embarrassed about it.

Beelzebub & Belphegor

➺ It's rare that these two ever forget about MC's blindness. It happens though when they're at Hell's Kitchen with MC and Solomon.

➺ After picking what he wants to order, Belphie mindlessly passes the menu to MC and goes to lay his head on the table, yawning.

➺ It's that moment of comical silence again, and MC and Solomon exchange a glance, both holding back laughs. "Belphie..."

➺ The Avatar of Sloth lifts his head to look at the others. "Oh, sorry MC... I didn't mean to do that." He smiles at them apologetically but sends Solomon a glare as soon as they look away from him.

➺ "Here, I'll read it for you." Beel kindly offers, taking the menu from MC's hands. He doesn't really get bothered with Solomon, much like Asmo.

Solomon

➺ The only one who never forgets, and who teases the others to oblivion when they do. Oh, it makes them so bitter, specially when Solomon brags about it.

➺ He's such a gentleman with MC, and is always taking precautions to make their stay in the Devildom easier. And he's so very glad that they are this comfortable relying on him, after all, he truly loves them.

➺ That closeness he has with MC though? The warm smiles and sincere "thank you"s he receives from them whenever he's helping them with something they can't do on their own? Yeah, they only make the others jealous, so terribly jealous.

➺ Solomon lives for it though, sending the others knowing grins every chance he gets.

#submission #I hope it wasn't too repetitive?#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #omswd #omnb #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #asks and requests ～⁠♡#☙ no creativity for names ✾

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xylerray · 1 year

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Reasons why you got into an argument + how it goes and how it ends

Game: Genahin impact

Characters shown: Ayato, Childe, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Aether, Venti

Genre: Probably Angst but also comfort ig?

Authors note: nope I am definitely not writing this at 2 a.m. in the goddamn morning and making my eyesight worse than it already is. This is rushed with no structure or anything at all! Sorry for grammar or gender mistakes!

Ayato:

Listen I love Ayato but when it’s coming to arguments and he can use his knowledge he‘s a bitch

Reasons could be because he‘s so caught up in work, that you guys don’t spent enough time together or that he’s just so stressed he doesn’t even knows what he says. Also that your just caring a lot for him and he is not taking care of himself enough. Or that you are out so much meeting up with other people than tending to go to him.

At first it’s just like „Ayato please“ n shit but then someone says smth like „don’t be so annoying“ and then the rage is going on

It‘ll be loud very loud and a lots of „WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT“

Thoma and Ayaka hear it and are always worried

You will just run outside slamming the fire behind you closed

After some hours you meet each other in a room

At first you just look at each other

One of you starts to apologise

You Botha say your sorry‘s

Then you start over and try to make your past mistakes better

Childe:

Reasons could be that he‘s really careless and that he always comes home bruised

He says you are only overreacting

Thats the line that makes you go furious

You scream as you try to explain that you just want to be a good and caring partner

Childe doesn’t let that go by and also starts to scream that he didn’t want Someone always being all over him

You then said angrily that he could’ve said it but you just worry about him so much

You storm out angry with tears in the eyes

After hours you start to feel bad

You want to go out and apologise

But as soon child sees you, he puts his hand on your waist, the other on your throat and pushes you against the wall and kisses you

After a long lasting kiss he hugs you and starts to apologise and says that he just should’ve told you that he doesn’t want that always

You also apologise that you started screaming and shouldn’t have done that

In the end you just laugh about it and eat something

Scaramouche/Wanderer:

Reasons could be that he just went to far with calling you names

Instead of really arguing you just ignore him a whole day which is enough to drive him crazy

He then just screams at you when he sees you next time and when he realises that you are crying he stops IMMEDIATELY

He somehow try’s to get an apology out but it’s too late and you rich out of the room

He apologises with making food to you and get the stuff you really like

In the end you cuddle and he gets an apology out and you forgive him

Aether:

Reasons could be that you never really have quality time and he always brings other people around

The argument also wouldn’t be an argument as well

You just go outside somewhere without letting him know

You know it drives him crazy

So when you come back he is already super angry and starts screaming at you

„WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN YOU CAN’T JUST GO OUT LIKE THAT WITHOUT TELLING ME WHO IS GOING TO PROTECT YOU“

You start screaming back and say that he never even spends time with you so why should he care about you savers

(Paimon already rushed into another room)

Your argument lasted an hour

In the end you try to calm down and say your sorrys probably not rlly meant at first

You both went separated ways and after some hours it went smooth again and it was forgotten

Venti:

Reasons are that he is always drunk, that he is flirting with other people and that you sometimes just throw his bottles away

He noticed that something was off is when he looked at you but you looked sour

That’s when he asked what’s wrong

You tell him

Instead of screaming at each other you both sit down and try to talk things over

You start with what you don’t like about is drinking

Then he says what he does not like about your behaviour

When both of you get louder you take your both hands to calm down

You try to find a compromise

And when you did, you cook together to make things up as an apology for the things you both do

Thanks for reading! Like said this is made at 2 a.m. and without structure and rushed ‘n shit so I’m sorry for any mistakes! Good night/ day/ evening/ morning!

#genshin imapct #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #arguments #genshin x reader #venti x reader #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #aether x reader #childe x reader #childe genshin impact #ayato genshin impact

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jeankluv · 9 months

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Snow on the beach || Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Chapter II: I’m the problem, it’s me

Words: 3,3k

Warnings: low selfsteem, angst, family problems

Note: sorry if there are any mistakes 🫶

← Previous chapter || Materialist || Next chapter →

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were woken by the noise coming from the kitchen, the sun was already up so it should be around 9 a.m or so. You strengthened yourself and got out of the bedroom where you spent the night. Corazon was in the kitchen preparing the breakfast, you looked around only to find that everything was a mess.

“Good morning y/n!” He greeted you with a big smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah I did.” You sat down. “What happened here?”

“Oh I was trying to make pancakes but I’m not really good at it.” He laughed. “I will finish them now, hopefully they taste better than they look.”

You nodded and waited for him to finish the pancakes while looking around, but Law was nowhere to be found.

“If you’re looking for Law he's already left.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, he probably went to his office to keep doing research and those things doctors do, the signal here is very low, so the internet it’s not the best.” He put the plate in front of you. “But you probably already noticed that when using your phone.”

“I don’t have a phone.” You ate a piece of the pancake. “Oh… it’s really good Corazon.”

“You don’t have a phone? A girl your age? You’re really interesting y/n.” He said looking at you. “No phone, coming to a town away from everything, alone. Who are you y/n?”

“Someone who wants to get away from everything.” You ate another piece.

Corazon didn’t say anything else, he just kept eating his pancake and when he spoke again was related to another topic. Maybe your answer was sharp but you didn’t want them, the new people you met there to know about the old you. You wanted to leave all that behind, to find yourself again and talking about the past wouldn’t help, at least that’s what you thought.

You helped Corazon clean the dishes once both of you were done eating and then went to the bathroom to clean yourself before leaving for the town with Corazon. Once you were done, you went out after not seeing Corazon inside and as you thought he was outside playing with a white dog.

“Is that dog yours?” You asked him while approaching them.

“Yes. This is Bepo our dog. He is cute right?” He said rubbing him.

“He really is.” You caressed Bepo, carefully, not wanting to scare him. “Aren’t you? Good boy.” You knelt and Bepo began to lick you, while you continued caressing him.

"He liked you, Bepo is usually quite shy with everyone, he only lets Law and I get close to him."

“I like him too.” You caressed him one last time before getting back up. “Are we going to the town?”

“Yes, you’re already ready right?” You nodded. “Okay, let’s go then.”

You followed Corazon after saying goodbye to Bepo and got in the car. This was the second time Corazon was taking you to town, actually it had been always Corazon the one to take you from town to your house or from your house to the town, you really needed to stop being careless and focusing, you couldn’t keep depending on Corazon or someone else.

Looking outside the window, you could see the amazing view that place had. For the moment you stepped outside the train almost two days away, your breath was taken away by that view. The mountains rising above the clouds, but then on the other side the sea, it was magical, out of this world, your world.

“This place…” You paused for a moment, thinking of the proper words to describe it, but there weren't any.

“There aren't any words to describe it right?”

“That’s what I was thinking.” You looked at Corazon who was looking at the road. “It feels like what I once saw on a screen.”

“I know… When I moved here with Law, I had the same feeling. One day, I have to take you to see the lake that is crossing the mountains, you will love it.”

You kept talking with Corazon, about the places there were near, about the fishing you could do during spring and more. You arrived at the town, just like the previous day Corazon said goodbye to you and left to work. It was still early, you didn’t know if there would be someone at the restaurant but you went anyway. The air was cold, it was still mid October so you wondered what was going to be like the winter here, not warm like you were used to. You kept on walking, slowly, there wasn’t any reason to arrive there quickly, because it was probably still closed. Zeff told you to come around 12 a.m., because that was the hour where they usually opened up.

You looked around, at the town that was still unfamiliar to you. Kelly would love that place, she would love to go to the beach and during winter go and play with his friends on the snow. You shook those thoughts out of your head, why were you thinking of her at that time? But you knew why, even if you tried to deny the undeniable, you should make that call. Your subconscious constantly reminded you, even if you wanted to ignore it, that voice was there. You took a deep breath, feeling that your eyes were filling with tears, you looked up trying not to let them fall. Feeling better after a few minutes, you got back on track, you don't know when you stopped walking but at some point you did.

You walked to the restaurant, finding that Zeff was already there, bringing in the raw materials that had arrived in the morning. When he saw you, he was surprised that you were there so much before the agreed time, but you explained what happened. Since you were there you began to help Zeff with the preparations for the day. Shortly before twelve the rest of the enrolled began to arrive, including Sanji, who as soon as he entered and saw you began to compliment you as he had done the day before. In this way the restaurant opened it’s doors and little by little the clients began to arrive at the restaurant.

Clients came and went, while you got used to your new job. You had worked before, during high school summers so you could have your own expenses and not depend so much on your parents. Little did you know that you would be using the savings from those summers to go as far away from home as possible.

Sanji's friends came after 5 in the afternoon, this time with two more friends. Nami introduced them to you, Usopp and Chopper. They both had an energy similar to Luffy's, and the three of them spent the afternoon playing cards loudly while Nami tried to control them and Zoro drank and occasionally faltered to Sanji and Sanji responded without any problem. Until Zeff or Nami came along and stopped them.

“Yo y/n!” You heard Luffy from the other side, he was coming your way. “Monday it’s your break day right? Just like Sanji.” You nodded, that’s right your break day was on Monday because apparently it was the day of the week that least amount of people would come into the restaurant. “We are all going on a small trip, and other friends of ours will also join us. You wanna come with us?”

You thought for a moment, you didn’t have anything else to do on Monday and going out with this new group of friends would be good for you. “Sure! I would love to.” You smiled at him.

Luffy excitedly went back to his seat and told the rest of the group you were coming, Nami gave you a big smile from her place and Usopp and Chopper started celebrating with Luffy. You laughed at the scene, this group was really something you wouldn’t have except to meet in this place. You kept on working, listening to your new friends laugh from their spot, meeting new people and enjoying your time beside Sanji, who was always so gentle and nice to you. Before you could realize, the group was gone and only a few clients remained at the restaurant, that’s why you asked Sanji if you could leave a bit earlier than your due time. He told you it was okay and he would handle everything, so you took all your belongings and left for the phone cabin.

When you arrived there, your hands were already shaking and your heart was beating really fast. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and trying not to break down before even making the call. You stepped in and took the phone with your left hand, inserting the pennies in, you typed the number, that number you learned once you started walking home from school alone, and that your mother had made you remember in case an emergency occurred. Two rings rang before someone on the other end picked up the phone and asked who it was. You recognized the voice immediately, your stepfather's voice. At that moment you froze, you had been preparing for that moment all day, but now that it had arrived you didn't know where to start, what to say.

“Hello? Who is there?” Your stepdad kept asking. You breathe in, trying to calm down. “Y/n? It’s you? Y/n?”

“David…” You paused, in that moment you felt like the 13 years old girl who came back from school crying and needed a hug from her mom or stepdad.

“Oh y/n honey! You okay? Your mom and I were so worried about you. Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I am okay David, I’m okay.”

“Where are you? We will go to find you, just tell us and we will go.”

“David, I… I don’t want to go back, not yet.” Tears were starting to roll down your cheeks. “I need to stay away, I really need this.”

“Honey, is y/n?” Your mom, your mom was there too. That was the moment you broke down, your mother's voice, her worried voice on the other side. “Let me talk with her.” You could listen to David hanging the phone to your mom. “My baby, are you okay?”

“Mom…” You said with a shaky voice. “I’m okay… Mom, I'm so sorry for what happened. I’m so sorry.”

“My baby, everything it’s okay. Listen, it’s not your fault, okay? What happened it wasn’t your fault.”

“It was. If I only listened to you and David, none of… none of that would have happened.”

“No, baby…”

“I need to stay away from there.” Your mom was about to speak again but you kept talking. “I need to be myself again, I need… I need for all those thoughts to go away, I need her voice to go away. And for that I need to stay away from there.”

Your mom didn’t talk right away. “Okay baby, we understand. But I hope you know that we don’t blame you, we love you.”

“Are you all okay? Is Kelly okay?” You hold the phone so strongly you could feel it would break.

“She is okay, she misses you so much.” You smiled.

“I miss her too, and you and David too.”

“We miss you too baby, We love you.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Oh? Torao? We are already about to close, we are not going to serve you.” Sanji spoke once he saw the tall black haired guy entering the restaurant.

Law moved his eyes around the restaurant, looking for something or rather someone. “Where is the new girl?”

Sanji tilled his head in confusion. “Y/n? You are looking for y/n?” Law shocked his head. “Wait, how do you know her? What are you planning, Trafalgar?”

Law closed his eyes with annoyance. “Corazon asked me to pick her up and take her home, just that.”

Sanji hummed. “She already left, she said she needed to make a call before going home.” He pointed out. “She left about ten minutes ago or so, she must be at the bus stop.”

Law nodded and left the restaurant. He walked through the deserted and dimly lit streets in the direction of the bus stop, before passing by the only phone booth to check if y/n was still there. He sighed, Cora-san had asked him to go to the restaurant after his shift tomorrow morning and take y/n home, Cora-san did not trust that a young woman like y/n would go alone on the bus at that time and he he couldn't really go since his shift didn't end until hours later. Therefore, Law reluctantly gave in.

He was tired, he wanted to arrive at home and sleep a bit, but here he was searching for the new girl that Cora-san got attached to, without knowing if she might already be at her house. He kept on walking a bit more until he reached the phone booth which was empty, so he went directly to the bus stop. He was a few meters away when he spotted someone sitting on the bench with their head lowered. He swallowed, what he least wanted now was having to drag you if you had fallen asleep. I sigh and walk straight to the bench, until I hear sobs coming from the person who was sitting on the bench. He scratched the back of his neck and coughed a little to be noticed and not scare the person away. The person raised his head and Law immediately recognized the face, it was you. Your face was red and swollen, due to the tears that were still on your cheeks. Law was paralyzed, he really didn't know what to do, he was never good with the feelings of others and he hadn't started off on the right foot with you, let's say, after he treated you sharply yesterday.

Law cleared his throat. "Um... are you alright?"

You wiped your tears right away, once you realized there was someone right in front of you. “Shit…” You whispered. “Yeah… I’m okay! Don’t worry please.” You smiled and looked at the person. It was Law. What was he doing there? “You’re…”

“Did you hurt yourself or something? That’s why you were crying?”

“No, no. It’s nothing. I swear, don't worry.” You tried to convince him, but it was clear he didn’t buy it.

“I will pretend I believe you.” He turned around and started walking. “C’mon I will take you home.”

“There is no need, I will wait for the bus to come but thank you.”

“The next bus is coming in 45 minutes, I’m not leaving you waiting for it when I can take you home.” He looked over from his shoulder. “So now, c’mon.”

You walked behind him without saying a single word, still wiping your cheeks in case there was anything left from your tears. You really didn’t expect him to appear there, you thought you would have time to calm yourself before taking the bus and that no one was going to see you in that state but he did, and you felt embarrassed. You were still shaken by the phone call with your family but you also feel like a huge weight was taken away from you.

“You will fall if you keep walking while thinking about other things.” You heard Law talking.

“Sorry… It was a busy day today at the restaurant.” You laughed, trying to make it look as if it was nothing important. “Was also my first day, so I was just thinking about it.”

Law met your gaze and paused in front of the car. “You are such a bad liar.”

“I’m not… I’m not lying!”

He rolled his eyes. “Get in the car, it’s freezing outside and I want to go home.”

You rolled your eyes and got in, putting the seatbelt on. Law stayed quiet, just like the previous day.

“So…” You cleared your throat. “Why are you here? You didn’t seem to like me so much yesterday.”

“And I still don’t like you, but Cora-San likes you and asked me to get you home.” He explained, keeping his eyes on the dark road.

You hummed. “He is too nice. Thank you to you too, for accepting.” You smiled.

He rolled his eyes once again. “Don’t get use to it, I’m not going to be your friend.”

“Step by step.” You laughed. “You’re already talking more than two words with me. That’s a win.” He grumbled under his breath but didn't speak. “Can I turn the radio on?” He nodded, so you turned on, letting the music fill the inside of the car. “Oh shit! I love this song!” You say turning the volume up. “I should not be left to my own devices” You sang. “You know Taylor Swift?” You turned your head to look at him.

“Do you think I live under a rock?”

“Maybe.” You said with a shrug. “It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me!”

You kept singing, that song which you wish you didn't feel so identified with the lyrics.

“I wished I could relate more to other of her songs instead of this one…” You said out loud without thinking. “Forget about that.” You nervously laughed.

He didn’t talk, neither did you. For the rest of the trip both of you were quiet and the only sound inside the car was the music playing on the radio. When you arrived at your house, you took the seat belt and turned your body to face Law.

“Again, thank you for taking me home. I know Corazon asked you to do it but thank you Law.” You smiled despite him not looking at you. “Now, I will leave.” You opened the door and left the car.

Passing in front of his car, you waved at him saying goodbye. You reached the door of the house when you heard the car door opening and then closing. You turned around to see Law standing right next to the car, looking at you.

“What…?”

“You don’t have to keep all that for yourself.” He started speaking. “You can speak to others, listen, I’m no good with feelings and all but if you need to take things out I will listen to you. And so does Cora-san, so…” He nervously moved in the place. “Speak up, don’t close yourself up.”

You stayed silent looking at him, while a single tear started to roll down your cheek. “You don’t usually speak too much but when you do… damn it.” You wiped the tear away. “Thank you Law.”

“Good night y/n.” He turned around.

“Could this be the start of our friendship?” You said loudly so he could hear you.

He huffed, small but he did and looked at you from over his shoulder. “Step by step.” You swore you saw a smirk at that moment.

You got in after seeing him leave. Today had been completely crazy, full of ups and downs and emotions, but what you would have least imagined was that the guy who had treated you so coldly yesterday would appear before you at the bus stop and then say yes. You needed someone to talk to that he would listen to, even if he wasn't good at those things.

Shaking your head, you started to put all the things you bought yesterday and that you forgot at the restaurant in their place. Zeff also gave you some plates to eat because according to him you will be needing more mussels to be able to survive the winter or else you will die frozen. You stretched yourself once you were done with everything and you yawned. It was already a bit late, so you decided to go to bed. It had been a long day and you were really exhausted, tomorrow you wanted to start a routine, get up early, go for a run on the beach, wash up, have breakfast and then go to work. That was your plan for your mornings, to be entertained while you focused on yourself.

#trafalgar law x oc #trafalgar d law x reader #law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece x reader #law x you #law x oc #trafalgar law x you

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eskawrites · 4 months

Note

2. i fucked up

All it takes is one mistake. One.

Nancy tells her that all the time, repeats it again and again as she scolds them all for improper gun care, or untied laces, or a joke told at the wrong moment on patrol. One mistake, and it's over, she says. One wrong move, and you're done. And you never know when it's coming.

It's not that Robin didn't listen. She hangs on to Nancy's every word with complete and utter reverence. But sometimes a mistake is just that: a mistake. Like conjugating a verb wrong because she isn't thinking. Like faltering on a high note because she forgot to breathe at the right time.

Like turning left instead of right to avoid the crack in the road that's claimed most of Smith Street. Like looking over her shoulder to make sure the wind howling in the trees behind her really is just the wind. Like not looking forward again to see the vines stretching across the road until the front wheel of her bike runs over them.

The screeching is immediate, violent, and entirely too close. Robin know even before she pours all her energy into pedaling harder that it's over. This is her one mistake. She's done.

She tries anyway.

Stupid, she scolds herself. Nancy wouldn't have been so careless. Steve wouldn't have been so jumpy as to turn and look over his shoulders. Even the kids would have been better off, paired together and watching each other's backs to make sure none of them messed up the way she has now.

But Nancy and Steve and the kids aren't here. They're across town, doing their own sweeps, avoiding their own mistakes for fear of how angry Nancy would be if they mess up and risk their lives.

Robin laughs, short and breathless and hysterical, probably. She hears the hair-rising cry of a demodog a split second before something catches her back wheel, sending her wobbling toward the curb.

Nancy will be absolutely livid. She'll curse Robin's name, call her stupid and reckless. She'll never forgive Robin for this. But even worse, she'll never forgive herself.

Robin jumps off her bike before she can completely crash into the curb. She lets her momentum carry her into a run, if only to give her time to draw the machete from her hip. If nothing else, she has to at least put up a fight. Nancy has to know she tried.

It's just demodogs, she sees as she stops, turns, and swings at the nearest one. But it's still too many of them. It's still a mistake she won't get away with.

She cuts through the leg of one just before another jumps up and slams into her, claws sinking into her ribs. She digs her blade into its body and pries it off as another wraps its petal-like head around her other arm, tearing into her flesh.

Robin fights as best she can. She makes mistakes, but so do they. Somehow, when the last one falls, she's still breathing, even if her legs give out the second she realizes it's over.

It's over, surely. But her backpack is within reach, torn and bloodied on the grass but close enough for her to wrap her fingers around a strap and drag it to her. And she has the strength left to dig through it until her hands wrap around the walkie Dustin had given her at the beginning of the night.

And she has enough breath left in her lungs to bring it to her mouth and say, "Nancy."

A moment passes, quiet and painful and long, so long. But then she hears Nancy's voice on the other end.

"Robin? What is it?"

Robin laughs again. The gashes across her ribs burn.

"I fucked up."

She means to say more, she really does, but her thumb slips off the button and she can't find the energy to try again. It doesn't matter. Nancy's response is immediate now, sharp and focused and tinged with a panic that makes Robin's heart sting more than any demodog wound.

"What do you mean? What happened? Where are you?"

Robin looks around herself. "Not sure. I-I was on Smith Street."

"You're not anymore?"

"Hit a vine. Had to run." She closes her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Nance. I should've been more careful."

The radio is quiet for another moment, but it doesn't matter. Robin can picture the way Nancy closes her own eyes, forces in a breath, fights hard for composure. Wins, barely.

"I'm not far," she says, voice almost steady. "I'm on my way, I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Nancy." It's all Robin says. It's the only thing that matters, really.

"Just hold on, Robs, okay?"

"Nance."

No answer. Nancy was on foot, always preferring to move slowly with her gun in her hands than move faster on a bike without it. Maybe she's close. Maybe she's just saying that. Robin isn't sure it matters.

Someone else is on the walkie now, repeating Nancy's instruction to just hold on. Robin hears something about Hopper heading toward them with his truck, something about getting to a hospital, something about please and it'll be okay and answer us, Robin, let us know you're still there.

But Robin doesn't respond. She listens, and she tries to hold on like they tell her to. But she saves her words just in case she only has so many left, just in case the person who she actually wants to say them to shows up in time.

"Nancy," she says, unsure if her thumb is still pressing in on the walkie, unsure if the hurried footsteps she hears are real or not. "M'sorry."

"No." Nancy's voice, real or not, close to her ear. Nancy's hands, real or not, pressing against her. "No, don't do this to me."

Nancy's face, angel or not, hovering over her, silhouetted by bright light. Maybe it means something. Or maybe it has to do with the thud she hears in the distance, and the gruff voice joining Nancy's increasingly frantic orders.

"Hey." Nancy's hand on her face. Robin blinks up at her and decides it's real. She hopes it's real. "Look at me, Robs. You stay with me now, okay? Stay with me."

"I'm sorry," she whispers again. She sees tears in Nancy's eyes, and she hopes that part isn't real. "I made a mistake. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Nancy leans forward and presses her forehead against Robin's. "Just hold on now, okay? That's all you need to do."

Robin closes her eyes. She feels someone else nearby, but before she can think too much about it, Nancy's hand slips into hers, fingers squeezing vice-like around her own. Robin squeezes back, because Nancy told her to. Because she's already messed up so much tonight, but she can follow this one command.

She holds on, even when she feels someone pick her up and move her, even when everything becomes too bright and too loud and too painful. She focuses on Nancy's hand in her own, and she hopes with everything she has that it's enough.

#asks #anon #ronance #angst prompts #i'm going to tag this #tw character death #but in my head she lives #and when she wakes up she's still holding nancy's hand

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jazzythursday · 10 months

Text

Careless (667 words)

He’d gotten careless.

It was a simple mistake, but a careless one all the same. He’d gotten distracted, and the ratio of one chemical to another was just a bit not right, just enough to—

It was carelessness, is all it was. Stupid. Idiotic. He can’t afford to call himself a demolitions expert if he can’t even handle semi-compustables without fucking it all up.

He’s still staring at the remnants of the exploded vile in his hand, tiny rivulets of blood running from the bits of broken glass embedded in his skin. He’s never liked being hurt, he’s never liked blood. It makes him feel fragile, and a bit like the times he was a child getting rapped on the knuckles for not trying hard enough in lessons, even though he was trying so hard. He flexes his hand. It burns, but not much, not as much as it probably should, and he should really get something to clean up the mess, but he’s just staring, staring and staring and wondering why he hadn’t thought to measure twice, why he hadn’t—

Jesper finds him like that, hunched over his work table, staring.

He’s very gentle as he handles Wylan into a chair and cradles his arm, brow furrowed and lips pursed as he inspects his hurt hand to look over the injury. Wylan feels frozen, like he’s stuck somewhere he doesn’t know how to find his way back from. Bracing for some kind of punishment—from who, he isn’t sure. Berating himself for being stupid enough to make a mistake he knows he’s better than and caught between the past and the present, in some cold and numb place in the middle.

Jesper catches his eyes. “Well, it looks like you’ll get to keep all your fingers.”

It draws a rough laugh out of Wylan, and he feels himself start to thaw. “Is that your professional opinion, Jesper Fahey?”

“Yes, and that’s Medik Fahey to you. Sit tight, love, and if you’re a good patient, I’ll even throw in a prize.”

Wylan snorts, then winces, because being out of his head means he can properly feel how much his hand actually hurts, and he finds that it does. Ouch.

Jesper gets out a pair of tweezers and pulls out every piece of glass, cleaning the cuts and wrapping them until Wylan has a bandage that runs from his fingertips up halfway to his elbow.

Jesper drops a kiss into the palm of Wylan’s hand when he’s done, soft and infinitely sweet in ways that Wylan cannot begin to define, in ways until recently he did not know he could have.

“Thank you,” he says, meaning it.

Jesper shrugs one shoulder and tilts his head, “Anytime. Well—not any time, please don’t make a habit of demo-disasters, not that this was a disaster, but—you know what I mean—”

Wylan cuts off the ramble with a kiss, marvelling at the way it never fails to make Jesper release a short little swallowed gasp into his mouth as his hands immediately pull Wylan closer. “I know,” Wylan says. “Thanks.”

“Right,” Jesper says, a little breathless. “Right,” he says again, dropping a kiss to the top of Wylan’s head and then flashing the grin that Wylan knows he uses when he wants to be charming. “First things first, I did say you’d get a prize, and I have it on good authority from Nina that waffles make the best medicine. Feel up to getting out of here?”

Wylan let’s Jesper pull him up by his uninjured hand and lead him out of the warehouse and into town. He’ll have to clean up the mess he’s made of his workstation tomorrow, remake the whole batch of flash bombs. But for now, as Jesper fills the silence with easy conversation about what he’d missed at the Crow Cub, the reassuring weight of his arm wrapped around his shoulders, Wylan thinks it can wait.

Maybe he can afford to be a little careless about some things.

#a drabble for your troubles?#written for the promt: careless from the wesper server #wesper fic club #Jazzy writes #jazzy writes fanfic #wesper #wesper drabble #wesper ficlet #wylan van eck #Jesper fahey #six of crows #shadow and bone

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hxlyhoax · 1 year

Text

Paralyzed

Based off of Paralyzed by Big Time Rush

Rowan Laslow x Reader

warning(s): I hate the ending. semi proof read. all mistakes are mine. if I need to add anything else let me know :)

You walked with Enid right by your side. You were new to Nevermore and she was showing you around while also keeping you up with the latest gossip around the school or in the next town over that was named Jericho.

“Dude” Xavier frowned at his roommate, hitting his arm. “Huh” the dazed boy let out, looking at the long haired boy. “You weren’t listening?”

Rowan shook his head, guilt clear in his features. “I got distracted.” he frowned, watching as Xavier furrowed his eyebrows and looked to where the shorter boy nodded his head. “Oh, They’re new.”

Rowan only nodded, biting his lip. You’d never notice him. He knew it. Xavier knew it. Hell, Enid probably already knew it.

The next time he saw you was when you were going against Bianca in fencing. He watched intensely as you and the siren went after each other, smiling once he realized you had won the match.

“Nice moves.” Bianca smiled, staring you down. “Thank you.” you nodded, smiling back before looking over to another student who wanted to go against you.

“You should talk to them.” Xavier whispered in the boys ear, smiling softly. “I- I can’t-” Rowan shook his head, taking a short breath. “And why is that?” the long haired boy frowned, tilting his head. “They’re out of my league. And i’ll make a fool out of myself if I do.” the boy frowned, looking to his roommate with a look similar to a wounded puppy. “Would you like me to talk to them for you?”

“You would do that?” Rowan asked, confused as why the boy who seemed to careless about him would help. “Yeah” Xavier nodded, looking towards you again, waving slightly when he noticed you were looking in their direction.

You waved back with a smile on your face. A smile that made Rowan melt. Oh, how he loved you.

The third time he saw you was at the carnival. You were accompanied by Xavier who was hopefully putting in a good word for him.

“So how are you liking Nevermore?” Xavier asked, smile on his face. “It’s alright” you shrugged, “Kind of like every other private school i’ve been to, just with more outcasts and I actually like the uniform.”

“You like the uniform?” the tall boy cringed, watching as you chuckled lightly and nodded. “Way better than my last ones. Those were hideous.”

“Do you like anyone?”

You stared at him for moment, head tilted. “I like a lot of people.”

“No, like like.”

“like like ?”

“like like.” Xavier nodded his head, trying to laugh at thought of you two just repeating two words. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t think I know anyone that much to “like like” them.” you shrugged, “But I am curious about someone.”

“Oh? do tell.”

“This boy. He wears glasses. He’s-”

“Rowan. His name is Rowan. He’s my roommate actually.”

“Oh- Did I do something wrong? Because it seems like he’s always avoiding me.” you frowned, placing your hands in your pockets.

“Oh, no. I can promise you, you did nothing wrong. He’s just really awkward that’s all. But, if you liked to meet him I can set something up.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” you shook your head, smiling softly. “But, thanks though.”

“No. I insist. He’s right over there actually.” Xavier pointed to a boy who was sitting alone at a bench. The same boy you had been curious about for weeks. The same boy you may have developed a little crush on. The same boy who-

“Well?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah, let’s go.” you nodded, missing the way he inaudibly chuckled to himself.

“Rowan” Xavier called out as the both of you walked over, watching as he turned his head, eyes going wide at the sight of you. “Oh, hi.” the boy smiled, pushing his glasses up, doing his best to control his breathing, keeping a tight fist on his inhaler that was in his pocket. “Rowan this is Yn. Yn this is Rowan.”

“Hi, Yn.” Rowan nodded, staring at you for a few seconds before looking to the ground again. “Hi, Rowan. It’s nice to finally meet you. Heard a lot of good things actually.”

“Good things?” he asked, looking up, cheeks going red as Xavier winked at him. He really was playing wingman. And he’d forever be in debt to the psychic. “Yeah. You’ve got yourself a good wingman over here.” you chuckled, sitting across from him.

“Oh- Uhm- Wingman? No-”

You stared at him as he used his inhaler, frowning slightly. “Do I make you nervous?”

The boy in the glasses looked at you, swallowing silently. “Not in a bad way.”

“In a good way then?”

“He likes you.” Xavier cut off the awkward encounter. “Xav-”

“I like you too.”

Both boys looked over at you. Xavier smiling in triumph and Rowan in shock. “You do?” Rowan began to smile, setting his inhaler down, controlling his breaths once again. “I do.”

#rowan laslow #rowan laslow x reader #rowan laslow x you #hxlyhoax #hxlyhoax wednesday

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the-darkness-does-not-bargain · 10 months

Text

Rated M for Massage Therapy

Here, take this. I am hopelessly caught in my AvaLil feelings whirlpool, and the violent currents have shaken this out of me. Once again, this is set in my Twitch AU, which has two other parts here and here, one tame and and one decidedly not tame. This one is just tooth-rotting sweetness though. And I’ll probably put it up on ao3 now, so I’ll add the link here when I do. Enjoy!

//////

It wasn’t something Lilith noticed right away. How could she, really? Their first interactions at the bar were understandably shallow, and Ava was very good at hiding the signs. She danced around the bar with perfectly careless grace, mixing drinks and applying garnishes like it was what she was born to do. She danced around Lilith with the same gangly, uncoordinated charm, smiling that million watt smile and flirting with devious grins and terrible jokes. It was all remarkably guileless to the untrained eye.

Lilith would learn in the following months that subtle subterfuges were Ava’s specialty, small mistruths and lies of omission that she told to protect herself from the scrutiny of others. From their doubt, and their pity. This revelation came on slowly, as they so often do, starting with little incongruities that gradually painted a larger picture.

The first time she saw Ava drop a drink, she didn’t think anything of it. A common mistake, with nothing noteworthy about it, except perhaps the look on her face when it happened. Surprise would be expected, maybe even a flash of panic and a cringing grimace as the glass hit the floor. Yes, that would have all been very normal. But the small quiver in her lip, the way her hands shook in the seconds afterward, and the quiet despair in her eyes were very much not normal. She brushed it off quickly though, laughing loudly and apologizing with an exaggerated bow to the patron she was serving. It was concerning, but Lilith didn’t know Ava very well at that point, and the incident slipped from her mind just as quickly as it occurred.

It kept happening, though. Not frequently, or regularly, but enough to eventually raise an eyebrow. There were other little flags too, ones she only picked up on when she started watching Ava with more than friendly interest. Ava was a restless girl, incurably fidgety. She was constantly wiggling and bouncing about. She was clumsy in an endearing way, and always looking for something to occupy her hands with, be it a shaker, a pen, or once, memorably, an ice hammer. So any time she was still, any instance her movements were contained and careful, was something to pay attention to. There were days when Lilith spent hours after work just watching Ava do her job, and she found herself genuinely perturbed when the other woman seemed to be restraining herself. No playful flourishes, no thoughtless bar tricks, not even any spinning and twirling between customers. It was all very unsettling.

Bigger, more obvious signs appeared when they stopped circling each other and officially started dating. Ava’s tiny apartment was stocked with a multitude of curious items, some that Lilith expected, like silly trinkets and extremely tacky novelty mugs, and some she didn’t, like heat packs, grip strengtheners, and resistance bands. More telling still was her medicine drawer, which Lilith found by accident the morning after their first night together. Ava had gabapentin, tramadol, extra large bottles of tylenol and ibuprofen, and capsaicin cream, all strategically clustered together behind her toothpaste, moisturizers, and hair brushes.

Lilith was quick to put the pieces together after that, but she didn’t confront Ava about it. Too many times in her life, she had damaged or broken something important by pushing too hard or coming on too strong. She lost her first job prospect out of law school that way, and the fallout of that mistake was painful to think about even to this day. She refused to do that with Ava, especially when what they had was still so new and delicate. She resolved to wait until Ava was ready to bring it up herself.

But she never did. Lilith waited, keeping her discoveries to herself, but she was waiting in vain. Ava never talked about it. She kept this secret locked tightly inside herself, putting a wall around it and covering it in barbed wire and caution tape, leaving Lilith at a loss for what to do.

She thought she understood why Ava was so reticent about it. After all, she had plenty of her own difficult secrets she was struggling to share, none of which were life-altering, physical disabilities. She just wanted to let Ava know, somehow, that she didn’t think of her any differently for it. To be frank, she was already falling pathetically in love with her, and every new thing she learned about Ava just added fuel to the wildfire.

Lilith decided to keep waiting, but she didn’t do it idly. She started researching instead, reading medical journals and scrolling through websites for organizations like the Foundation for Peripheral Neuropathy. She knew there probably wasn’t much she could add that Ava didn’t already know, but she resolved to jump on anything she could find. The resources she looked at frequently highlighted the benefits of massage therapy, so she decided to start there. During her few moments of downtime at work, waiting for meetings to start or milling about the courthouse, she read guides and watched videos detailing the best techniques for hand and finger massage, practicing the motions on herself until she felt she could do them with some confidence.

It was a small gesture in the grand scheme of things, but she committed to it. She kept practicing while she waited for Ava, holding onto the skill for whenever she needed it.

The moment arrived approximately five months into their relationship. She was at Ava’s apartment to pick her up for their date, only to be left outside the door when her girlfriend didn’t answer her knock. After a minute of standing around awkwardly, Lilith pulled out the spare key Ava gave her and quietly let herself in.

Inside, she found most of the lights shut off, the space darkening rapidly with the setting sun. The only light that was on came from the skeletal kitchen. Ava was slumped at the card table that was her main sitting space, her head lying against its surface while her hands were sticking up in the air, clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Next to her were two different bottles of pain medication as well as her tube of capsaicin cream, all open. Lilith had planned for them to go to a reasonably high-end restaurant owned by her friends Mary and Shannon, but Ava was barely even dressed, wearing nothing but a pair of boyshorts and an overlarge t-shirt. Sitting there, half curled in on herself, she looked very small, in a way that triggered all of Lilith’s intense protective instincts.

She moved into the kitchen hastily, taking louder steps than she realized, and Ava jumped, lifting her head from the table and gawking at her owlishly. “Lilith?”

“Uh, hi.” Lilith stopped in her tracks just inside the threshold. “I, um…” Her mother would pinch her for stammering if she was here. “I came to pick you up.”

“Oh,” Ava said dumbly. “Right, shit.” She looked around her kitchen and then down at herself. “Shit, sorry, I guess the time really got away from me.” She started fumbling with the items on the table, grabbing the open bottles and clumsily trying to stick the lids back on as casually as possible. “I’ll be ready in a minute. I can… I’ll be ready.” Her fingers were fumbling to twist the cap back on the cream, but when she realized Lilith was watching her, she quickly turned away. “Do you want to wait outside? I just need a couple minutes to get dressed and do my make-up.”

Lilith stood there for a long moment, contemplating her options. She could let Ava hide again, let her keep all of this to herself for god knows how long. Or she could take a chance, and maybe this night would end without her fucking everything up.

“Wait!” She finally said, speaking rapidly before Ava could retreat any further.

She watched the other woman pause before slowly glancing back at her. Her shoulders were tense, but her expression was just cautious.

Lilith carefully pulled the second chair out from the table, set her purse down, and sat in it. “Sit with me?”

Like a wary animal watching out for traps, Ava slowly sat back down, putting the yet uncapped tube back on the table. She watched Lilith, waiting for her next move, and Lilith hated the uncertainty in her expression, and the vague resignation. It was a look she sometimes got when they fought, and Lilith hated it because it meant that Ava thought she had already lost.

“Can I try something?” She asked.

Ava stared at her, eyes slightly narrowed. “Try what?”

Lilith held her hand up, palm open. “Give me one of your hands.”

“Lilith…”

“Ava, please,” she pleaded softly. “Just let me try.”

Ava kept staring for several eternal seconds, glancing between Lilith’s face and her hand. Then, she finally acquiesced, carefully placing her left hand in Lilith’s right. Lilith rewarded her with a small smile, before bringing her free hand up to join its counterpart.

“I will admit, I’ve only tried this on myself,” she prefaced, trying to inject some levity. “And not very well. But I’ve studied all the tutorials I could find, so…” After taking a deep breath through her nose, she started moving her fingers along Ava’s hand.

They were both silent as she worked. Lilith focused all of her attention on the task at hand, rubbing with firm, meticulous strokes and seeking out the pressure points and special areas identified in the guides. She kept her touches fairly simple. Some of the more advanced techniques were quite involved, but she stuck mainly to effleurage, cautiously rubbing her fingers into Ava’s skin as the tutorials had instructed.

Ava watched her intently the entire time, and she was acutely aware of it. She didn’t let herself falter, however, and pressed on. After several quiet minutes, Lilith stopped and cupped Ava’s hand in both of hers. “Does it feel any better?” This was the moment of truth, the moment where she would find out if her efforts were misplaced, or if they would be worth it.

Ava licked her lips, a whirlwind of emotions on her face. “Did you know this whole time?” She asked.

How to answer… “No,” she said honestly. “At first, I had no idea. I just… noticed things over time. And I found…” She glanced meaningfully at the capsaicin cream, and Ava followed her gaze.

“You never said anything,” she said, almost too quietly to understand.

Lilith took another deep breath, all while stroking her thumbs across the back of Ava’s hand. “I didn’t want to ambush you. You didn’t exactly seem ready to talk about it.”

“But you learned how to do a hand massage in the meantime?”

Lilith nodded. “I did. I still wanted to help, so I did some research.” She leaned forward in her seat. “You didn’t answer my question though, Aves. Does your hand feel better?”

Ava blinked several times, and Lilith could see her throat move as she swallowed. “It does,” she answered roughly.

Lilith breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh good. If it didn’t, I was going to sue the guide makers.”

Ava barked out a surprised laugh. “Oh come on, Lil, you can’t take someone to court just for writing a mediocre massage guide.”

“I certainly can,” she responded archly. “It would have been false advertising. They charged a high price for the course.”

“...You paid a bunch of money just to learn massage therapy to help me with my pain?”

The humor faded from Lilith’s expression, replaced by fierce earnestness. “Of course I did,” she said. “You matter to me, silly. I hate when you’re in pain. I know you’ve been trying to keep it from me. You hid it very well, but I still noticed.”

“I wasn’t.” Ava cut herself off, inhaled sharply, and then continued. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you for a bad reason. I just…”

Lilith only shook her head. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Aves. I think I get it, actually.” She looked down at their joined hands again. “There are things I haven’t told you either. Hard things. Things I never imagined telling someone else, even you.” She sighed. “So I get it, at least a little. And, I know this happened without your consent, but I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to. I will never do that to you.” She squeezed Ava’s hand, careful not to do it too hard. “But if you do want to talk, I’ll be here. You’ve got me.”

Ava’s lips quirked into a watery smile. “I’ve got you?”

“Mmhm, your awful puns and terrible mug collection have captivated me.”

She laughed again, and this time didn’t stop, giggling madly as she roughly wiped her eyes on her forearm. She made no attempt to reclaim her hand.

“Why was I so scared of telling you?” She asked herself. “I mean, I knew you wouldn’t think less of me. I knew it.”

Lilith scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if our fears cared a whit about rationality. Give me your other hand, so I can treat them both.”

Ava tilted her head like a puppy and glanced at the clock. “If we do that, we’ll be late.”

“That does not concern me.”

“But what about the reservation?”

Lilith just shook her head. “Trivial. I know the owners. They’ll fit us in when we’re ready.”

“Bougie,” Ava teased, her smile now steady and bright.

Lilith shrugged primly. “It simply pays to make connections wherever you can find them. But tonight, we’ll order in.”

“Lebanese?”

She smiled, the last bit of worry easing from her mind. “Lebanese.”

#warrior nun #ava silva #sister lilith #avalil #ava x lilith #my writing #twitch au

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