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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months

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In Season

alastor x doe! femreader

no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx

Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED

Word count: 5K

You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.

But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.

Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.

Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.

It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.

Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.

Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.

There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.

Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.

You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.

Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.

Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.

Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.

The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.

You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.

No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”

Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.

You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.

Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.

“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”

After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.

“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.

Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.

The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.

It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.

“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”

Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.

You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.

You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.

You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.

As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.

Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.

The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.

You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.

Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.

You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”

You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.

“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.

He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.

One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.

You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.

He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.

He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.

“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.

He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”

Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.

Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.

Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.

His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.

You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.

Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.

“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”

Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.

You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.

He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.

You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.

Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.

So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.

“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.

With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.

You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.

Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.

Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.

Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.

Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.

Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.

Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.

One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.

You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.

Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.

Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.

You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.

Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.

And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.

Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.

“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.

Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.

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steddielations · 4 months

Text

Steve acts on instinct.

There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.

There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.

They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.

“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.

“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”

Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”

It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”

“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”

Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.

“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.

He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.

It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.

“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”

Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.

“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”

Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.

Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.

“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.

“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.

The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.

He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.

“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”

He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”

“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.

“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”

Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.

“I think I’d definitely remember you.”

Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.

“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”

Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”

“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”

Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”

“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.

Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.

It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.

That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.

Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.

“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.

“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”

He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.

Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.

He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.

Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.

“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.

Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.

What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.

At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.

Oh.

He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—

Yeah, just. Oh.

Part 2

#what if they’re both secretly famous and clueless about each other #this is called ‘Upstaged’#part two soon #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #steddie ficlet #rockstar eddie munson #baseball player steve harrington #famous steve harrington #meet cute #saved your life trope #famous eddie munson #rueswriting

3K notes · View notes

smileysuh · 2 months

Text

Love Plug

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

tw/cw. weed/drug use, shotgunning (kissing after John's taken a hit from a joint), reader likes wine, alcohol, plug!Johnny, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, big dick john, 69-ing, size kink, grinding, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, ass groping, hand job, creampie/filling kink, cumming together, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.9k

🍭 aus. plug/drug dealer!Johnny, semi-strangers to lovers, Valentine's Day, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know this is slightly late, as it's Valentine's Day themed, but I hope ya'll like it anyway! big thank you to @sehunniepotwrites, my beta reader, my fellow John lover, my bestie- Love you girlie, thank you for helping me edit this to get it posted on time 💕

Being alone on Valentine’s Day is never fun. It would be one thing if you were with your girlfriends, but today, you’ll truly be alone. Everyone is busy, people are working, or with significant others- you feel like you’re the only person without plans, and it’s driving you completely insane.

Your apartment is spotless, you’d gone on a cleaning bender to distract yourself from today’s date, but as three o'clock rolls in, you find yourself sitting on your couch and staring at the ceiling.

There’d been a time in your life when boredom would make way for addictive traits. Dopamine-filled hobbies that you’ve since done your best to squash. But as three becomes four and you have nothing to satiate yourself - not even the pink bottle of wine in your fridge has been able to drown your loneliness - you begin to consider more drastic measures.

You’d never been a stoner, per se, but you’d gone with your cousin a few times to pick up from her run-of-the-mill dealer. If anything can help you relax and watch a movie, you think it might be some Grade A Indica.

Unknown number: Hi John, are you out today?

John: define out. Who is this

Unknown number: shit

Unknown number: my cousin gave me your number, I’ve picked up from you a few times

Unknown number: You probably don’t remember me but my name is y/n

John: I remember you

John: how much do you need?

Unknown number: I’m thinking $100 worth?

John: I’ll bring my shit. Text me your address and I can be over within the hour

Usually, when your cousin has gotten in contact with John, he comes to her apartment and the two of you go outside, filing into his truck. He has a duffle with jars full of weed, shatter, and the like. You give him money and he helps you decide what your night is going to look like.

When John calls you half an hour after you’ve texted him, you’re already almost at your door. “I’ll be down in a sec,” you tell him, searching for your keys.

“How about you buzz me up instead?” he suggests. “I’m outside the front door.”

You freeze for a moment. As far as you know, John’s never come up to your cousin’s apartment, and the idea of inviting the sexy local plug up into your one bedroom is sketchy… but at the same time, you’re feeling kind of desperate.

“Okay, type my apartment number into the keypad and I’ll let you in. The elevator will take you to my floor.”

You hang up, and a moment later your phone rings again. You press the buzz-up key and hold your breath.

You’re not sure if you’re scared of being alone with John because he’s a drug dealer or if you’re frightened of your own lack of self-control. John’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and this is Valentine’s Day. You’d been planning on maybe getting a little high, pulling out your vibrator, and having a good time with yourself… but if you could have a good time with him…

You give your head a shake, reaching for your bottle of wine. You pour the last bit of it into a cup, lifting it to your lips while you wait for the local plug to arrive at your door.

When he knocks, you practically jump, heart lurching in your chest. You scurry to your door, not wanting to make him wait- not wanting any of your neighbors to see the tall, sexy, tattooed man standing outside your home.

John greets you with a grin. “Special delivery,” he jokes, stepping past you and into the apartment and looking around. “You’ve got a nice place.”

“Thank you.”

You watch him head into the living space. He walks as if he’s been here before, as if he belongs here. The duffle makes a thumping sound when he nonchalantly sets it onto your small dining table, but John doesn’t immediately open it to show you the product like he does when you’ve bought from him before.

“Is it just me, or does it feel kind of sad in here?” John asks, turning to look at you.

��Hmm?”

“I just mean…” he gestures around, “spotless house, a pretty girl alone on Valentine’s Day… you haven’t bought from me in a while, sweet thing, I kind of thought you’d quit.”

“I did quit-” you stutter, “I mean… I was never a huge stoner or anything, so I wouldn’t say I quit-”

John grins while watching you search for an explanation. He leans back, palms flat on the dining table. The black v-neck he’s wearing shows off some of his chest piece and the tattoos on his neck are definitely a distraction as you try to formulate words.

“Look, all I’m saying is… I’d hate for you to lose your sobriety streak because you’re feeling lonely on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m not exactly sober,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine.

“Is that a rosé?”

You look down at the liquid. “It’s a pink strawberry sparkling wine.”

“Sounds nice. Give me a taste.” He holds out a hand, and it’s clear that it’s more of a demand than a request, so with a sigh, you hand your cup to the local plug.

John swirls the glass, then he lifts it to his lips. He doesn’t sip, doesn’t take his time, he simply tilts his head back and downs the wine in two large gulps. When he’s done, he wipes his hand across his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yummy.”

“That was the last of it,” you groan. “Now I have to hit the liquor store too.”

“Is it usual for you to get crossed, sweet thing? Weed and wine? You must really be feeling some type of way today.”

“So says the drug dealer working on Valentine’s Day.” You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’d downed your whole glass and isn’t cutting to the chase of your transaction.

“Ouch,” John laughs. “When did you get such a mouth on you?”

“Since you just drank an entire cup of wine in two seconds and started talking about my sobriety streak- are you going to sell me some weed or not?”

“For a girl with nowhere to be, you sound like you’re in a rush,” John muses. “You want to get me out of your home that badly, huh?”

“I mean, I would have preferred meeting you at your car,” you admit.

John simply shrugs. “And I wanted to see how dire your situation was. Clearly, it’s pretty fucked. Listen, we can still go down to my car if you want.”

“Will you sell me the weed if I go with you?”

“Nah, but I can take you out for a drink instead.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind does mental gymnastics to make sense of the suggestion.

Is he asking you out?

Finally, you ask, “Aren’t you working?”

“The good thing about being your own boss is you can always say fuck it, I wanna go to a bar,” John points out. “So are you going to come with me and let me distract you better than weed would? Or are you going to mope around here with no wine, no weed, and no sexy plug to make you feel better?”

You definitely have a sexy plug or two hidden away under your bed that could make your day better- but you don’t tell John that. Instead, you let out a sigh. “I guess I have nothing better to do.”

“That’s the spirit, sweet thing, now let’s go on an adventure.”

The place he takes you to is a complete dive. It’s a dark ambiance, and as you settle onto a bar stool, you notice the stickiness of the counter in front of you. John, however, seems completely at home here. He doesn’t mind the alcohol-stained wood, leaning over it to speak to the bartender over the loud rock music that plays through the establishment. “Two shots of the regular,” he announces.

“You got it, Johnny,” she laughs, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from one of the higher shelves.

“So I guess I don’t have to ask if you come here often,” you breathe.

“And I don’t have to ask if you’ve been here before. You stick out like a sore thumb, sweet thing. Relax a little.”

You let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do whiskey shooters?”

“I’m buying so I’m choosing,” John insists. “But if you want a cocktail or something, you can get that too, on me.”

So instead of taking your money today, he’s spending his money on you.

John is an enigma, and the confusion you feel has you more curious than ever.

“So how’d a guy like you get into your line of work?” you ask.

“He’s eighteen, gets stupid tattoos on his neck and hands, is rejected from other lines of work, and then discovers he has a talent for growing the best weed in town,” John responds. “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty good at growing orchids too.”

You had not pegged him as a plant guy. He’s always seemed so one-dimensional, and you realize now that your stereotype of him had been wrong. You’d never have thought John was the one actually growing the product he sells, and the idea of him nursing an orchid - a famously difficult flower - has your heart softening.

The bartender returns, setting two shots in front of you and John. “How’s your day going, Hyuna?” John asks, picking up a conversation with her.

“It’s going,” she sighs.

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good,” John muses, pushing one of the shooters in front of you. “I thought you were seeing that new guy- the finance bro. Figured you’d be with him today.”

“I’m not sure he’s the commitment type.” Hyuna brushes her long dark hair over a shoulder, looking between you and John. “Besides, someone has to run this lonely hearts club here. You’re ruining the single vibe by bringing a date.”

“My bad for not introducing her, by the way,” John grins. His arm comes around the back of your chair, and he pulls you closer. “This is sweet thing, I’m saving her from making bad decisions today.”

“Yeah? And how are you doing that?” Hyuna laughs.

“By substituting one drug for another.” John picks up his shooter, turning to you. “To bad decisions.”

With a sigh, you grab your own shot, lifting it to clink against John’s. “To bad decisions,” you echo.

The whiskey is like fire as you shoot it, and you have to do your best not to sputter from how bad it tastes. You feel your face scrunch up involuntarily, and it earns laughs from Hyuna and John.

“I think we can all agree Johnny’s taste in alcohol is a bad decision,” Hyuna muses. “What can I get you, sweet thing?”

You order your drink of choice. John asks for three more shooters. When Hyuna sets them all down in front of you, John holds one out to her. “This one’s for you. I’m sorry it’s not working out with finance bro.”

Hyuna assesses the shot, then, with a groan, she grabs it. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“No one’s gonna care,” John insists. “And we both know your manager is in love with you. Just take the shot, babes.”

Hyuna rolls her eyes and downs the drink. She sets the glass down, her perfectly manicured black nails dragging along it momentarily. “You and your annoying tastes.”

“You’ll learn to love this,” John assures her. “You learned to love me, right?”

“After I got over how annoying you are.”

John only laughs. He downs another shot, bringing his total to three. Then he stands up abruptly. “Vape break,” he announces. “You girls better not have too much fun without me.”

You watch him leave, sipping on your cocktail.

“So how did you two meet?” Hyuna asks, half turning to remove some glasses from the washer so she can polish them while you chat.

You lean forward, whispering, “He’s literally my plug.”

“John’s everyone’s plug,” Hyuna laughs.

“How about you? He’s a regular?”

“Yeah, but I also dated his sister once upon a time,” Hyuna explains. “He was her annoying kid brother. I did my best to be nice to him but things didn’t end so well with her- then three years later he came in here, all tattooed and wreaking of weed- He recognized me right away, and he’s been coming in here ever since. Tips good too.”

You’d been wondering about the specificities of their relationship. Hyuna’s gorgeous, like- one of the prettiest bartenders you’ve ever seen. Her lean arms are covered in intricate tattoos, her nails are filed to points, her hair is perfect, her cheekbones are prominent and her lips are puffy like pillows-

Who wouldn’t have a crush on her?

“He’s an interesting guy,” you muse finally.

“Don’t let his tattoos fool you,” Hyuna says, meeting your eye. “He’s a sweetheart. He just likes to look all tough because of his job.”

You consider what she’s just said.

“So…” your throat feels a little dry. “Does he often come in here with girls?”

“Never. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.” Hyuna sets a cup down, leaning over the bar top to get a good look at you. “So tell me, sweet thing, what’s the end goal here?”

“Hmm?”

“Johnny might be an annoying plug, but like I said, he’s a good guy. I’m not dating his sister anymore, but he’s still like a kid brother to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” There’s a beat of silence. “He’s giving you heart eyes, and he let you choose your own drink. John doesn’t even let me choose my own drink once in a blue moon when we go out. He’s also never cared about what drugs I do, so why does he care so much about you? What makes you so special?”

“I…” you set your cocktail down. “I really can’t answer that.”

Hyuna cocks her head, pursing her lips. “Girl to girl, don’t be a bitch to him. I’m the one he’s going to come crying to if you reject him really hard. Let him down softly, if you have to.”

“Honestly, girl to girl, I don’t even know if he’s into me that way.”

“Sweet thing,” Hyun scoffs, “you must be blind as a bat. Don’t you see the way he’s looking at you?”

“I sort of thought he was just horny for Valentine’s Day.”

The bartender lets out a barking laugh. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

Your lips part to respond, but the door to the bar opens and John comes back inside. He lumbers over with a grin, taking the seat next to you. His arm slides around the back of your chair and he leans forward, looking between you and Hyuna. “So what did I miss?”

“Nothing important,” Hyuna lies.

“In that case, I think I’m going to order a-”

“You’re aware that at some point I’ll have to take your keys away, right?” Hyuna raises a brow at John. “I just gave you three shots, you have one sitting in front of you still-”

“We both know I’m a heavyweight,” John insists.

“Sure you are,” Hyuna rolls her eyes, “and your skin is naturally pink.”

You assess John. Hyuna must have good vision, because in the shitty lighting of the bar, you can hardly tell that John has definitely flushed from the alcohol. His cheeks are a rosy hue, and he looks as boyish as ever, a stark contradiction to the neck tattoos that are also beginning to blossom with color.

“How about this… two more shots,” John bargains, holding up three fingers.

Hyuna scoffs loudly.

“How about… two more shots,” John continues to hold three fingers, “And I’ll buy dessert so my body doesn’t turn into a complete whiskey barrel.”

“Two desserts and you have a deal,” Hyuna sighs.

“Two desserts it is.” John sits back in his chair. “What are you thinking, sweet thing? This place has a really good brownie, although, there's no weed in it.”

“We’ve also got apple pie with ice cream, tiramisu from the Italian place next door-” Hyuna does her best to be helpful, and you’re beginning to appreciate the tough love elder sister act thing she has going on.

You order the dessert that sounds most to your liking, and as you wait, John begins to ask about your cousin. “She’s a trooper,” he muses. “I sold her this massive thing of mushrooms last week and she texted me like two days ago asking for more.”

“She’s a heavy hitter for sure,” you agree.

“She told me once that she only does things like weed and shrooms because they come from the Earth,” John continues. “Never asks for links to cocaine or MDMA or anything- just the Earthy shit. She told me it’s cuz she’s a Taurus.”

You laugh. “That’s my cousin.”

“It was interesting meeting you for the first time,” John continues. “Your cousin gets into the car, knows exactly what strains of weed she wanted- pretty sure she was buying shatter. And there you are, asking for a blunt. Didn’t know if you wanted indica or sativa or a hybrid…” John shakes his head, as if it was the most baffling experience in the world. “In the end, I gave you some indica. Could tell you had a lot of anxiety and shit. I was kind of happy when you stopped buying, I’d hoped you’d found some other outlets or something.”

“I picked up wine,” you say, only half joking.

“Look, on our way back to your place to drop you off, I’ll stop and pick up a bottle for you to make up for what I drank earlier, deal?”

“Deal.”

John grins, and then you see his hand dipping down into his pocket. “Vape break.”

You watch John lumber outside again, and you release a deep sigh, meeting Hyuna’s eye. “Boys and their vapes.”

Dessert had helped mellow John out somewhat, and he’d actually been pretty law abiding while driving to the liquor store after. The two of you are now walking around the aisles, with John asking you all sorts of questions about your preferences when it comes to booze.

It feels shockingly domestic, especially when people go to move past you and John’s hand finds the small of your back, gently prompting you in front of him to make way for others to go by.

“What if I get us two bottles, and you let me come up for a movie,” John suggests as you reach for a replacement wine from earlier.

“What sort of movie?” you ask.

“Anything you want.”

“Are you sure I’m the only lonely one today?” you tease. “You’re being pretty clingy, John.”

“Anxious girls love a man that clings,” the plug insists. “Here, I’ll sweeten the pot for my sweet thing. Three bottles of wine, on me, and I’ll hand roll a blunt that will blow your socks off.”

“What happened to not wanting me to lose my no-weed streak?”

“I never said I’d let you smoke it, I just said I’d hand roll it and you’d be super impressed by my skills.”

You let out a laugh. It’s shocking how much your opinion of him has changed in a few short hours. You can’t believe how comfortable he’s making you feel.

“Fine. Three bottles,” you agree.

John grabs two more to join the one in your hand, and you head to the checkout. As you’re waiting in line, his phone rings, and he brings it to his ear.

“Hey, Mark…” John’s eyes meet yours. “I mean, I’m kind of busy… You really need it huh? Okay, give me a sec.” The plug presses his phone to his chest. “I’ve got a buddy who wants to link up. He lives pretty close by. It would take like… ten or fifteen minutes max. You good with that?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds okay.”

John lifts his phone back to his ear. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You better be waiting outside though, I told you I’m busy.”

A short while later, you’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat of John’s truck as he pulls up in front of an apartment building. A man in a hoodie and baseball cap is standing there, and he quickly gets into the back, giving you an odd look.

“Mark, this is sweet thing. Sweet thing, this is Mark,” John says smoothly.

“Dude. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

John ignores the comment. “How much are you spending today?”

“Five hundred.” Mark pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket.

“The usual?” John asks, reaching down for the duffle by your feet.

“Half shrooms, quarter indica flower, quarter butter or shatter, whatever you think is best today.”

“You got it.” John sets the duffle gently on your lap, rifling through it. He begins to pull things out, like a jar full of weed. As John sections it off into bags, Mark leans forward to get a better look at you.

“Sorry for interrupting your plans,” he says sheepishly.

“That’s okay,” you assure him.

“You guys up to anything fun?”

“Movie night,” John answers, tossing a baggie of weed back at his friend.

“Nice.” Mark nods to himself, waiting patiently.

Soon, John’s fulfilled the order. Mark hands the cash to the plug, and with one final nod and half smile, he gets out of the car.

“So…” John’s hand returns to the wheel. “Movie night?”

You’re two glasses of wine into the movie when John begins to roll a joint. He’s seated next to you on the couch, his thigh just touching yours as he bends over the coffee table. For a guy with such large hands, he’s more adept than you would have thought he’d be at the fine-tuned movements needed to make the perfect joint.

You’re more enthralled by him than the movie at this point, and you can’t help the way your body reacts when he lifts up his nearly finished product to swipe his tongue across the paper. He seals the joint masterfully before turning to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna pop onto your deck for a moment to smoke this.”

“I’ll join you,” you tell him immediately, pausing the movie to stand up.

You follow him outside, momentarily taken aback by how cold it’s gotten.

John pulls a lighter out of his pocket, and after one sharp flick, he begins to smoke the joint.

You like the way his jaw looks in the shadows of light from the deck lamp. He’s so handsome and regal-

The cloud of smoke he exhales is bigger than anything you’d ever be able to do yourself, and even that is sexy in some odd way.

“You’re really not going to give me a hit?” you ask.

“Nope.” John looks at you with a lazy expression and a half smile. “You’re the good girl, and I’m the bad guy, remember.”

“Bad guy,” you scoff.

“Why are you laughing, sweet thing? I’m a plug with tattoos. I’m bad.”

“You’re a softie.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Says who?”

“Says me,” you insist.

“Yeah? And how do you figure?”

You think about it for a moment before responding. “You’ve taken care of me today… even though you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I wanted to.” John takes another puff, blowing it in your face. “It was pretty self-serving actually.”

You roll your eyes, waving away the smoke. “Sure it was, John.”

“Johnny,” he says quietly. “Call me Johnny.”

You stare at him, taking in his pretty face, the way his perfect lips wrap around the joint when he takes a puff. “Johnny… be for real. Why are you here?”

He lets out a laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You shake your head, holding your breath while you wait for him to elaborate.

Johnny sighs. “Look. I’ve always liked you. I liked having you come around, needing an explanation about weed, and joints versus blunts, and indica versus sativa- it was like… it was like having a little bit of sunshine every once in a while. Then you stopped buying, and I was happy about that, but I also wasn’t. Hadn’t heard from you in months, didn’t have your number, couldn’t ask your cousin about you- you texted, and it’s Valentine’s Day, and I came up and saw you were alone- and… I don’t know… I just hate missed opportunities, and I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

You’re really not sure what to say. His demeanor is usually kind of joking, he’s the type to always have a smile- but right now, he’s not smiling, not joking- he’s being dead serious.

“I’m happy I messaged you.” You feel stupid as the words leave your lips, but they bring back Johnny’s boyish grin.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” you step closer, looking up at the tall plug. “Thanks for taking me out for drinks.”

“It would have been a crime to leave a sweet thing like you alone on Valentine’s Day, and trust me, I know all about crime.”

God, he’s such a goof. Why is he so endearing?

“Do you know about shotgunning?” you ask.

Johnny’s brows furrow for a second. “I’m shocked you know about shotgunning.”

“Do you wanna try it?”

The plug looks you up and down. “Is this a ploy to get at my joint?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head.

Johnny leans forward, meeting your eyes as his lips almost brush past your own. “Liar.”

He pulls away, slotting the joint in his mouth. He watches you while taking a long drag. Then he’s removing the joint and bending down again, meeting your gaze.

You lean forward, reaching to gently grab at his shoulders. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute in your chest, and you do your best to exhale, although it comes out shaky.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

Johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours in an open-mouthed kiss. He exhales the smoke into your lungs and you do your best to breathe it in, but Johnny’s so much bigger than you, and you have to pull away before he’s completely finished his breath.

You sputter a little, feeling tears in your eyes. There’s a rush through your body, and you feel a little wobbly, but your grip on Johnny keeps you standing.

“John-” As soon as you’ve recovered, he’s kissing you again, but this time, it’s not for the purpose of shotgunning.

This time, he’s kissing you like he means it.

Like he needs it.

His large hand cups your cheek, and he releases a soft groan when you kiss him back, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him closer.

He tastes like weed and wine, and oddly enough it’s not a bad combination. As his tongue swipes past your lip and you open your mouth for him, you find yourself releasing a groan of pleasure.

Johnny returns the sound. In the periphery, you’re aware of him flicking the joint to the ground in favour of grabbing you with both hands. First, he cups your hips, pulling you flush against him, but after a moment, he reaches down to squeeze your ass too.

You go for a breather, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, teasing his tongue against your skin and making you shiver in the cold evening air.

“You know…” you thread your fingers through his hair, “if you won’t give me drugs to use for happy chemicals, the least you could do is give me an orgasm.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look at you with eyes that somehow sparkle. “I thought that was a given, sweet thing.”

“It better be,” you tease, cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours again.

This time, when the kiss deepens and Johnny bends down to cup your ass, he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. He pushes the door open behind you, taking you back inside.

You’re so lost in his lips you almost don’t realize he’s moved past your couch, and then he’s gently laying you onto your bed. “So how do you like it?” he asks, pulling away so he can tear his hoodie and shirt off, revealing a toned chest, and all the tattoos you’ve been itching to see.

“I like it any way you want to give it to me. Dealers choice.”

Johnny lets out a laugh. “You’re cute.”

“You’re cute,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt to draw him closer again.

Johnny presses a hand to the bed by your head, bending over you so he can kiss you. Your thighs wrap around him, pulling him fully on top of you while you’re locked in the hottest tongue battle of your life.

He’s just so big and sexy- the weight of him is enough to have you gasping, even though he’s still holding himself up with his elbow now propped into the bed.

His free hand finds your hip, slipping under your shirt to trace your skin. Each brush of his fingers builds the fire in the pit of your stomach, and as he slowly moves to grasp your breast, you find yourself almost dying with need for him.

You whimper lewdly against his lips, pushing your chest up toward his palm. With a bra in the way, you can’t get the proper stimulus against your nipple, and within moments of him massaging your tits, you begin to tear your shirt off, needing more.

Johnny helps you remove the fabric, tossing it to the side so his mouth can find your throat. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, reaching under you to undo the clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

“Yeah, fuck- let's get naked.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look down at you. “You sure you didn’t drink too much wine, sweet thing?”

“I’m mostly sober.”

“And that shotgunning didn’t make you needy?”

“You make me needy,” you insist, cupping his face. “You know how you said you were into me months ago? When we first met, I swear I thought you were the sexiest plug I’d ever seen.”

“Probably the only plug you’d ever seen,” Johnny points out with a grin.

“John,” you meet his gaze, “earlier, when you first got here, I wasn’t even sure if I should invite you up. I was worried I’d lose my self-control and jump you or something- trust me, the physical attraction has always been there, but… getting to know you today, I like who you are inside too… so, just fuck me, yeah?”

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to us lonely hearts, huh?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. Johnny groans when you tug gently, and he grinds his hips down against your own. You can feel the bulge of his cock as it drags against your core, and you’re pretty sure your panties are going to be ruined after this.

You can’t help yourself, you trace your hand down from his shoulders to his chest, then his abdomen- then you cup his cock, applying pressure that has him moaning again, thrusting against your hand for friction.

“I think I kind of want you in my mouth,” you admit breathlessly.

“That’s funny, I want you in mine.”

You think about it for a moment. “Sixty-nine?”

“Fuck, you’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you, sweet thing?”

You can only grin, heart thundering in your chest as you push at Johnny’s shoulders, prompting him to roll onto his back.

“You take off your pants, and I’ll take off mine,” you suggest, getting off of him so you can work on your jeans.

Johnny doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch the way his muscles ripple under his skin as he hurries to get naked.

He’d never actually taken off your bra, so you do that yourself. In moments, you’re both completely nude.

You stare at Johnny, taking in his cock.

He’s rock-hard and huge. It makes you excited, but you’re also not sure how well you’ll be able to take him. He must be at least seven or eight inches, and thick too, with a pretty mushroom tip that’s already leaking precum.

He grins at your reaction. “Think you can handle this, sweet thing?”

“Something tells me you’ll make it fit.”

“You got that right,” he laughs. “Now come sit on my face, wanna taste that pretty pussy.”

There’s something so suave about half-baked Johnny. He speaks with an almost melodic tone, it’s deep and sensual, and your pussy throbs just from the words coming out of his mouth.

As you crawl onto the bed, getting into position, his hands are careful against your form, helping you settle as you swing a thigh over his head, hovering your core over his mouth. Instead of waiting for you to sit down, Johnny lifts himself up a little, burying his face in your pussy before you can even touch his cock.

“Fuck-” you whimper, grabbing the base of his length as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you, licking the length of your slit.

You would love nothing more than to enjoy his mouth on you for hours- but you have your own job to do, and you’re already drooling. You bring his mushroom tip to your lips, gently licking at him.

Johnny’s large hands find your ass, and he squeezes you gently. “No teasing,” he mumbles, and the vibration against your clit has you squirming down on his face.

You take him into your mouth, sucking on the tip and twirling your tongue. Johnny immediately releases a groan before diving back into your pussy. He grabs your hips pulling you down tighter against his face.

It’s hard to know what to focus on. He feels so good with his mouth worshiping your pussy, but at the same time, you’re kind of obsessed with sucking his cock. He’s so huge, and you want to see how much you can take. You sink further onto his length, feeling your lips stretch at the intrusion-

God, he’s going to absolutely wreck your pussy. You can’t even fit half of him in your mouth before he’s hitting the back of your throat, and as you constrict around him, he releases lewd sounds of pleasure that have your core practically throbbing with need.

You pull off of him, if only to collect your saliva as lube so you can stroke what your mouth can’t reach. Taking a breath and steadying yourself, you grind gently against his tongue, moaning loudly. Then you take him past your lips again, getting lost in the act of simultaneous giving and receiving.

You’re lost in him, so lost that you don’t even know how long you’ve been in this position- but you can feel an orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time Johnny focuses on your clit.

You find yourself grinding harder against his face, and as the feeling builds, you can’t help but pull off of his cock, gasping and moaning. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me,” he groans, squeezing your ass as he kitten licks your clit. “Don’t hold back. Cum on my face, sweet thing, give me everything.”

You’re stroking his cock mindlessly, your muscles tensing as Johnny takes your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking-

“Oh my God-” you whimper, toes curling-

Your orgasm washes over you like a wave. It tingles through every inch of your being, throbbing out from your core. You and Johnny both release groans of satisfaction, and the knowledge that he’s enjoying having you cum on his face only makes your pussy clench tighter.

You’re practically riding his tongue now, chasing the last inklings of your high until you’re absolutely breathless.

Johnny presses one last kiss to your clit, and then he’s tapping your ass gently. “Gonna roll onto your back and let me fuck you like the good girl you are?”

“God, yes,” you groan. Your legs are shaky but you get off of Johnny’s face, collapsing next to him.

“Damn, sweet thing, that was a good one, huh?” Johnny laughs, sitting up and stroking your thigh.

“So good,” you whimper, still feeling the aftershocks.

Johnny gets between your legs, elbow pressing into the bed next to your head as he dips close to kiss your neck. “The way you were grinding against my face was so fucking hot.”

“Johnny-” You wrap your legs around him, feeling absolutely desperate for his cock.

“You’ll have to be a little patient for me, sweet thing,” Johnny sighs, one large hand cupping your breast and teasing past your nipple. “I’ve gotta stretch you out before you can take me.”

“What if I want you now?”

“Like I said,” his breath is hot against your throat, “you’ll have to be patient.”

“What if I want you to wreck me?”

Johnny laughs, pulling away to look at you. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, angel?”

You trace your fingers along the fine line, black and white, Japanese Oni mask tattoo that sits on his chest between his defined pectoral muscles. “Not when it comes to you.”

The plug simply grins at your words, his hand trailing down until it reaches your core. Two thick fingers prod at your opening, and you spread your legs even wider to accommodate him. He teasingly dips the first digit inside of you and you release a moan at how good it feels, but he’s quick to pull it out and circle your clit.

“You know what you said earlier?”

He lets out a humming sound.

“About not teasing?” you correct. “If you’re making me wait for you to prep me, you better not take your sweet time with it.”

“You’ll have to let me take my time with you next time then.”

“Next time?” You cock a brow.

“Yeah,” Johnny ghosts his lips over your own. “Next time.”

“Deal, now finger fuck me open then give me your cock.”

“Jesus, I love it when you talk dirty,” Johnny groans, dipping his finger into your core again. “Tell me more.”

“You just feel so fucking good,” you groan, swiveling your hips. “Even one finger- you’re just so big- Johnny, how are you so big?”

“You haven’t really experienced the Big yet,” John points out, adding a second digit that he scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him.

In response, you reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him gently. “I’m gonna feel you inside me for days after this.”

“Especially if you let me fuck you tomorrow, and the day after- you could feel me forever if you wanted to.”

“Forever, huh?” You let out a whimper as his digits work harder inside of you, crooking up to stroke your g spot with shocking precision.

“I’m still a little high, it’s making me… too honest.”

“I like honest,” you admit, cupping his face with your free hand, drawing his lips to yours. “I like you.”

“I like you too,” he whispers, kissing you deeper as he finger fucks you faster. “Okay, sweet thing, I think you’re just about ready for me- dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m ready,” you assure him, staring into those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.

“Should I grab a condom?”

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck around that often. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy.”

You giggle. “I’ve sort of noticed that.”

He kisses you again. “I can still grab a condom though.”

“No, I’m on birth control. I want you to fill me up with cock and cum until it’s all I can think about.”

“I can do that.” Johnny pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and before he can lick them clean, you grab his wrist and guide them to your own mouth. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You groan around his digits, sucking them clean. When you’re done, Johnny grabs your jaw, drawing your lips to his so he can taste you, his tongue gliding against your own.

You’ve still got his cock in your hand, and you pump him gently, adjusting against the blanket to get closer to him so you can guide his tip toward your core.

Johnny takes the hint, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His gaze dips to where your bodies meet, and he allows you most of the control as you drag his cock through your folds. “You really want this?”

“Just fuck me, John. Please don’t make me beg.”

He pushes forward, the tip of his cock sheathing in your tight core. “Holy shit,” Johnny groans.

“More.”

Johnny can only laugh, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he thrusts deeper into you. The two of you hold your breath as inch after inch stretches you open. You’re so wet, and it makes the process easier, but you can still feel Johnny everywhere.

You’re a wriggling, moaning mess by the time he’s fully inside of you.

Johnny’s breath is hot against your skin, and his chest is rising and falling with effort, his bicep bulging next to your head. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Can I-”

“Rail me. Break my back. Murder my pussy.”

Johnny laughs, pressing his lips to yours to shut you up as he begins to move his hips, pulling out only to thrust back in. You can feel your insides practically quivering with each drag of his length against your walls. He’s so big, and you’re stretched to the brink- the vein along the underside of his cock is an added stimulus that has your toes curling already.

You’ll never be the same after this.

No one’s cock is ever going to compare and you just know it.

Johnny’s lips can’t muffle the sounds of pleasure still escaping you, and you grab at his broad shoulders, tracing your nails against his skin.

It’s so easy to get lost in Johnny. He makes you feel safe, and the pleasure he’s giving you has time flying by like nothing else. Johnny’s mouth goes to your throat, teasing the spot that has you moaning even louder.

“Can I flip you over? Wanna see that ass.”

“Do anything you want with me,” you tell him, and you mean it.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls out of you. His large hands find your hips. He manhandles you over, pulling your ass back and up so he can push into you again.

“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. “You’re even deeper like this-”

Each time his front meets your ass, the slapping sound turns you on even more. He’s practically rearranging your guts like this, and you don’t mind it one bit.

“Do you wanna rub your clit for me, sweet thing?” Johnny asks. “You’re so fucking tight around me, and I’m so sensitive when I smoke- not sure I’ll be able to last long, and I want you to cum with me. Wanna feel this pretty pussy all clenched and dripping-”

Every word has your body tingling, and you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles.

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“That’s it, angel. You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing in a way that has you crying out. “Who’s my good girl?”

“Me!”

“Who’s taking this cock so fucking good?”

“Me!”

“Fuck-” Johnny lets go of your ass, wrapping a hand around your throat. He helps lift you up until your back is curved, shoulders pressed to his chest. His lips find your neck, hand dipping down to grasp your breast roughly, pinching your nipple.

“I’m gonna-”

“I know, sweet thing, me too-” He’s fucking into you like a god damned fuck machine, and each circle of your fingers on your clit has you closer and closer to the edge- “Fuck, okay, I’m there- shit, yeah, I’m there- you’re gonna cum with me, right? Gonna cum on my cock and let me fill you up?”

All you can do is whimper, your body fulfilling his ask before your brain can even fully process it. Your core clamps down hard on his cock, and Johnny releases a deep groan in your ear. He holds you close, squeezing you as his thrusts get erratic.

You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, and you’ve never felt this cock drunk in your life.

Nothing matters except Johnny and his huge cock filling you up to the brink. His lips are hot on your throat, and he fucks you through your highs, your pussy fluttering around him as wave upon wave of pleasure rocks through you.

As you both finish, he pushes himself fully inside of you. You can feel his cock throbbing, and his groans are music to your ears.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers, letting out a soft laugh as he nuzzles against your cheek.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, grabbing the hand on your breast and lifting it to your lips so you can kiss his palm.

He holds you for a few more moments, then he gently lowers you to the bed, cock still inside of you. “I’m gonna pull out,” he says, smoothing a hand over your ass. “You don’t mind if I watch it drip out of you for a second, right?”

“I’m just laying here,” you smile against the quilt.

Even so, it feels like a loss as he takes his cock out of your aching pussy. His hands are on your ass and he spreads your cheeks. “Fuck, sweet thing. This is the prettiest view in the whole fucking world.”

When you’d texted Johnny earlier for a link-up, you’d never expected this. Never expected to see this softer side of him.

You’re so fucking happy you reached out- he provided more than what you’d asked for.

“I busted a fat load in you, angel,” Johnny laughs, his thumb moving to rub your clit, causing you to whine and push back against him. “How about we go for a shower. I can wash you up, eat you out some more-”

“Damn, Johnny, are you pussy drunk?”

“Uh huh.” He leans over you, kissing up your spine and to your shoulder. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, we should make the most out of it, right?”

You get the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to be making the most out of it with Johnny for many days to come, Valentine’s Day be damned. God. Your cousin is going to have a freak when she hears about this.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know it's late by three days but this John still has me in the Valentine's Day spirit

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🔮 preview. “You’ll like this. You always like this. You love cumming on my cock. But you don’t get my cum unless I get yours, that’s the deal, right?”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, grinding on his thigh, hand job, oral (m receiving) blow job, he spits in y/n’s mouth, spit as lube, masturbation, y/n touches herself while blowing Johnny, fingering masturbation, y/n rides his cock, multiple reader orgasms, praise, gentle degradation, dirty talk, breast worship/tit sucking, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You’ve gotten accustomed to your plug boyfriend. You’d only been dating for a month when he’d officially asked you to be his, but you know the two of you were exclusive to each other since that very first night you’d fucked.

Being with John is pretty easy- but his odd work schedule can be a bit of a pain. He never knows how busy he’s going to be, so you can plan date nights, but sometimes he has to push it back a few hours to do unexpected late-night deliveries.

If you’d been cock drunk for him after the first time he’d fucked you, you’re even more dependent on him now.

No drug in the world could fill you up and give you the pleasure that Johnny’s cock does, and you’ve become a little impatient when you have to wait for him to complete deliveries… although, you’d never bring it up with him

You know being a plug is his job. It’s what pays the bills and allows him to dote on you in ways you’d scarcely been able to imagine before meeting him.

Even so, you can feel your skin crawling, pussy practically aching with anticipation as he completes the last handful of orders for the night. He’d initially wanted to be over at your place by seven, but it’s nearly ten now, and you’re three hours behind on the fuck marathon you’d planned.

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 4 months

Text

Chocolate Princess ♡

Willy Wonka x reader

Description - Y/n Ficklegruber can't help but become enamoured with the spectacularly peculiar man stood in the middle of the galleria.

Word count - 1.6k

warnings - fluff ♡

a/n: Watched Wonka today with my sister and my little cousins and honestly have never smiled so much during a film. Every bit of it was just pure wondourous imagination. And Timothee as Wonka was just too scrumptious! Who couldn't love him!

Masterlist

PART TWO

--♡--

I began everyday as I always did. Being ungraciously tumbled out of my pink satin sheets, poked and prodded by our various servants, squeezed into the most painstakingly prissy pink gingham dress (with a matching bow for extra faff), and hauled into my fathers car to join him on his way to work.

You see, I am the sole child of famed chocolatier Felix Ficklegruber. Since I had completed my mandatory years of studies, my days consisted of lounging about my fathers office in complete boredom. My mind practically weakened with the mundane repetitiveness of it all, and I knew it would surely combust if it was not stimulated soon. For 2 years now, I had been begging my father to allow me to study at the prestigious university at the edge of town. But each plea had been met with a scoff, an eyebrow raise and sharp “no”. Even the library was off limits.

I paced around his office, deliberately scuffing my mary janes against the carpet. I smirked at how each scrape made his face tick as if it was being flicked.

“Would you cease that infernal racket. I am trying to work, precious girl.”

“What work? All you do is sit up here eating your own chocolate.” I slumped down onto the disgustingly green couch.

“Please darling, you are giving me a headache, I must ring for my 8am mocha.” He picked up the telephone, clasping his fingers to his eyes.

I drummed my fingers against my dress and clicked my heels together. “You know,” I trailed off. “I wouldn’t be here to bother you at all if…I was at the library.”

The phone was slammed back onto the receiver which made me flinch. He rose from the desk and stalked his way towards me.

“No daughter of mine will be caught in some stuffy book prison-”

“That’s not entirely correct..”

“--That are refuge for the ugly, the untalented and the p–” He dry heaved. I winced at the possibility of another spew. “The p-” I lunged for a bowl as he spluttered.

“I know what you are going to say so maybe we should avoid any bodily functions.” I picked up his monogrammed hanky and wet it from my glass of water. I dabbed the cool liquid against his mouth. His eyes softened at my action and his hand softly clasped around my wrist.

“Sweetheart, you live in complete luxury. Have treasures other children couldn’t even dream of. Why can’t you just stay.” My gaze fell. His hands held my shoulders to turn me around and led me towards the towering window which overlooked the galleria. “Besides, one day you will inherit my pride and joy, my fortune, the very thing that ignites my soul, my–”

“Who’s that?” I interrupted, and pointed my finger to a beautifully disheveled man who had risen atop his suitcase in order to address the crowd. I quirked a smile and took in the strange man, who was truly more a boy, and his frightfully exciting appearance.

The thickness of the window meant I couldn’t hear what the boy was saying but his movements and expressions delighted me to no end. I giggled as he began to flap, mimicking a butterfly. I gasped as he produced from his shallow hat, a large jar of what appeared to be chocolate eggs. But once he took the top off, I shrieked in delight, as each little egg floated up as if carried by wings.

I felt my father stiffen before he shoved me away from the window.

“Now, now sweetheart. Do not bother looking at this man any longer. Clearly another hopeful vagrant but do not worry.” He lifted my chin with his pinky. “We shall deal with him right now.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who was ‘we’.

--♡--

Once the three had left their respective stores, I snuck out of our own and managed to squeeze my way through the crowd so I was left behind my father and my, and I regret to say it, godfathers.

They each took a bite of the treats offered by the mysterious man who beamed at them with awe filled eyes.

Even from my limited view I could see the flickers of enjoyment cross each of their eyes as they questioned the different ingredients. But my gazing was caught by the top hatted man. His smile grew even brighter as our eyes met. I felt unsure in the presence of a man such as him and all my normal instincts failed. So I settled on a little wave. He offered a small wave back.

“--100%, the absolute WORST!”

The man jumped out of his skin in glee, mishearing Slugworth because of his focus on me.

“Did you hear that ladies and gentlemen, an endorsement by–wait did you say the worst?”

Anger bubbling in my blood, I finally made my presence known.

“You lie, Arthur. I saw your face! You haven’t enjoyed a treat that much since daddy figured out how to make marshmallow flavored chocolate milk.”

There were murmurs amongst the three in agreement and fond memory of that chocolate milk. But they snapped back and I was held firmly by my father who apologized to Slugworth for my rude behavior. A cane was held down on the hand that gripped me. I looked up and met the sweet face of its owner.

“I am terribly sorry.” With a practiced flick I was released. I looped my hand around my saviours available arm. He led me backwards in comical cautiousness. “But I don’t think she’d like to be held for what comes next.”

Suddenly, the three men began to lift into the air.

“The hoverbugs from mumbai! They love chocolate! You must have put their eggs in the treat!” I exclaimed excitedly, whilst watching the hilarious display.

“Exactly.” In my glee, I hadn’t noticed the adoring look which the chocolatier had fixed on the side of my head.

The fun was interrupted by the chief of police. I rolled my eyes. Slugworth must have phoned.

“Now Ms Ficklegruber if you’d kindly step away from the criminal.” The chief of police gestured and I was led away as they interrogated the man whose name I still didn’t know. I looked on sadly as he was forced to give up his earnings. I shoved off the policemen’s arms, I made my way back over to the man whose face was as solemn as how happy it had been just minutes before. The excitement around the galleria had dimmed as various floating consumers were returned to gravity.

“I am really sorry.” I gestured to the measly sovereign he was left with.

“Don’t be. It was a law and I broke it. These fine men were merely doing their job. But a new day shall bring new promise.” He soldiered on with a smile and once again patted his hat back upon his head. “At least I can make rent.” He flicked the sovereign up and caught it once again.

“Where are you staying?”

“Scrubbits.”

My face fell in sympathy. “You didn’t read the fine print?” I pitied the poor man and what was about to befall him. Scrubbits contract was a common warning amongst residents but as I truly took in the whimsical nature which surrounded this man, I knew he wasn't from here. And that made me smile. This place could use something new.

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and lowered his eyeline.

“You can’t read?” I questioned but my tone couldn't help but soften.

“I always thought my mama would teach me, but eventually my pursuits became solely chocolate.” I reached out and grasped his arm. Stroking the velvet beneath my fingertips.

Before I even knew what they were, the words left my mouth. “I could teach you.”

He was surprised. “You would? But why?”

“You’re interesting.” I peered back to the shop which loomed behind me. “I need that.”

“Forgive me, I have not even introduced myself.” He took off his hat and leaned into a deep bow. “My name is Willy Wonka.”

I giggled but responded with a curtsy of my own. “Y/n Ficklegruber.”

At the mention of my last name he looked towards the ceiling where my father still hung, gesturing feebly. “Wow. You really have chocolate in your blood. No wonder you’re so sweet.” Both our eyes widened when we realized what he said. A blush spread across my heated cheeks and meeting Willy’s eyes suddenly became impossible.

“Y/N GET AWAY FROM THAT CANDY GRABBING SCOUNDREL!” My fathers voice beat down from the ceiling where he had been watching my entire interaction with Wonka.

“Meet me at the fountain, tonight, 10pm sharp. Daddy will be in a sugar crash by then. It’ll be easy to sneak out.”

Before I could rush off to avoid my father once his feet returned to earth, Willy halted my movements and placed his empty palm out in front of me.

“Before you go, I want to give you something. You shouldn’t have anything I make in bulk. You deserve something a little more…” He placed a cloth over his palm and ripped it off revealing a deep red chocolate heart decorated with tiny flakes of gold. “Bespoke.”

I placed the treat in my mouth and audibly moaned at the taste. This man was a true genius. My father is going to be so mad. I could jump for joy.

“Till tonight, Mr Wonka.”

“Please, call me Willy.” I leaned up and delicately kissed his cheek in a way of goodbye.

--♡--

That night after discovering the true horror of what being a “guest” of Scrubbits included, Willy begged and pleaded with his newest friend, Noodle, to help him sneak out for the night because, in his words, he’d seen…

“The most beautiful girl to ever exist and if I don’t get to see her again tonight, my heart might just burst out of my chest!”

--♡--

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka x you #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet wonka #wonka #timothee!wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka 2023

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petermorwood · 26 days

Text

More on pre-electricity lighting.

Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->

*****

After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".

For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".

Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.

There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.

Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.

*****

Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.

Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.

I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.

With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.

*****

All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.

Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.

They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.

Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...

...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...

This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.

Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:

What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.

There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:

This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.

A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.

*****

There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:

Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:

And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.

Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.

What could possibly go wrong? :-P

*****

Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.

Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.

There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.

Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.

This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.

In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.

*****

One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.

They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.

The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.

The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.

One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.

I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.

And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->

*****

Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)

#period lighting #tinderbox #too light too dark #social history #writer notes #research #period tech #sword vs lantern #c. j. cherryh

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diddybok · 4 months

Text

asking best friend!stray kids what you are pt.2

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: ot8 x gn!reader

➩genre(s): angst, some fluff

➩warnings: strong language, mentions of sex, some of the boys are still mean, some unhappy endings

➩wc: 9.4k (9433)

➩author’s note: i am so serious if anybody talks to you in a way to undermine, condescend or just simply belittle you and make you feel stupid, pls pls pls cut that person out of your life. even if they’re doing it as a ‘joke’. it never ends well. ily all and you deserve the best of the best, always <3

➩parts: part one

chris | 1.2k (1201) words

After the fourth ring, you swipe the little phone symbol across your screen and the time starts. You watch it go from one second, to the next, and the next, before a deep elongated sigh pulls you out of your trance.

You put him on speaker, afraid of the way you’d react if you were to hear him so close to you in your ear. You can’t handle that right now.

“Y/n?” His slightly distorted voice says. You don’t reply, placing the phone down in front of you as you sit and fiddle with the rings on your fingers.

“Come on sweetheart, say something please. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Chris asks softly. Akin to a parent who would try and get their child to confess to stealing cookies out of the cookie jar.

You run your hands down your face. You’re annoyed with him, most definitely. But you can’t deny the butterflies that start to flutter in your stomach when he addresses you like that.

It’s not fair.

The line is painfully silent for another two minutes. Chris patiently, or rather stubbornly, waiting for you to speak.

“This…this is harder than I thought it’d be.” You say, your voice croaking slightly as this is the first time you have spoken in a while.

“Okay. Try not to think too much about it. Just speak your truth, unload it all.” Chris encourages.

You take a deep breath and run your hands up and down your thighs to stop them from clamming up.

“You hurt my feelings. You are continuing to hurt my feelings. I feel as if I’m the only one who is missing out on an inside joke that everybody seems to know but me.” You halt, waiting to see if he would have a rebuttal. Except he doesn’t and his silence spurs you on to continue.

“I thought we were practically dating. I thought that night would be the night that you would ask to be together as a couple. You know, exclusive?” You chuckle bitterly. “So imagine my surprise when you decide to ignore me for a week. Do you know how shitty that felt?” You ask him.

You can just about hear his breaths. They’re soft and collected. Yet the more you wait for his response that he doesn’t seem to be giving, you are becoming the opposite of that.

“I asked you a question.” You say curtly.

“I can see how that would make you feel shitty, yes. For that I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I felt like I fucked everything up for us.” You think he sounded genuine enough when he said that, so you elect yourself to be quiet so he can continue.

“I should’ve stopped it. Doing it knowing I wasn’t ready for it to happen—like that anyway—was not fair on you. I wouldn’t say that it has complicated things per say, but it has led me to think about a few things.” Chris finishes.

You sit there, the flaps of the butterfly wings now causing the bile to travel upwards and out. You reach over and grab your water bottle from your bedside table and chug as much as you can.

“Think about things like what?” You will yourself to say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand at the water that managed to escape and drip down your chin.

He doesn’t reply which does not settle your nerves. Especially not after that last sentence he said. Silence is not your friend at this moment.

“Chris—”

“I think that we should be together.” He practically vomits out.

Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up to the top of your skull.

“What!”

“Y/n?”

You both speak at the same time.

“Oh sorry you go ahead.”

“Sorry, you first.”

You hear a small chuckle over the line as you speak over each other again. He stays silent this time, letting you talk.

“Are you serious? Like you really mean that? You aren’t playing me for a fool right?” You ask quickly.

“Yes. Yes. No,” You release a silent scream. “I really do want us. I have always wanted us, but this—you—made me realise that we should’ve made it official a while ago. There were only so many more excuses I could pull out of the bag to mask me taking you out on dates as just ‘best friends hanging out doing questionable things’.”

Of course, you knew this as you are smart. The excuse he gave when he took you to a rooftop restaurant with candlelights everywhere was certainly not ‘for practice when I get a partner’. Him having your favourite meal prepared and the playlist the two of you made playing in the background? Dead giveaway.

“Plus it is also totally unrealistic that you as my best friend would splash that much cash on me unless it was because you lost a bet. So I had a feeling I knew something was up. Which I guess is why I got a bit too excited and jumped to the conclusion that we were already a couple.” You say scratching the back of your neck.

“Not true! I would always buy you things.” Chris corrects.

“Yeah but you’d always complain whilst doing so. So when you stopped complaining, something had clearly shifted.” You clarify.

You can envision the eye roll he does paired with the sigh he releases making you laugh.

There’s another silence that fills the space, albeit this time it is comfortable. Until he sneezes down the line and you catch yourself smiling warmly as you bless him.

“What happens now? Do we get a level up on our relationship or something? Or do I magically spawn in your arms and you cuddle me until I fall asleep? I’m thinking that sounds like the correct thing to happen next.” He teases.

“Of course that’s what you think.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, I just work here.” He says in a seductive drawl.

“You’re still very much in the dog house. Honestly, I feel it’s only fair for me to leave you waiting a week to even see me.” You speak without a hint of sarcasm.

It goes quiet over the phone again. You look down at your rings, twisting them around your finger gently.

“Okay…I guess that’s fair.” He finally responds.

You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding, nodding to yourself in agreement.

“You’re one hundred percent certain you want this? Want to be together past just best friends?” You clarify.

“What do you not trust me already? Y/n I want to be with you. I have wanted to be with you. Our communication just wasn’t great. But we will work on it together. Okay?” Chris speaks gently down the phone.

“Okay.” You say softly.

Though it will take a day or two for you to get over the fact he didn’t message you for a week, you feel as though a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Whatever the next step of your relationship with Chris is, you’re just relieved that you get to do it together with no more misunderstandings.

minho | 1.0k (1032) words

You and Minho decided that it would be best for you to discuss your relationship over lunch. He even offered to pay which you certainly were not going to turn down.

You have been hyping yourself up in front of the mirror for about twenty minutes since Minho said he was en route. If Minho texting you earlier was any indication of how this conversation will go, then you are sure you aren’t silly for practising breathing techniques and how to not make a fool of yourself on a whole.

You’re getting your jacket when you hear his knock at the door. You know it’s him because he only ever knocks in a pattern.

Opening the door, you’re glad to see him greet you with a smile on your face. Though that’s how it has always been in your relationship. Even when you fight, you always know to resolve the issue with a smile and to never yell at each other.

Even though you could tell he was anxious, he was masking it well. Throughout the drive, playing your favourite songs. Even now in the café ordering you your favourite meal when he caught you scanning the menu acting like you didn’t know what you wanted already.

Safe to say, the both of you calm each other down, which makes this conversation much easier to have.

“So, let's address the elephant in the room.” You start, taking a sip of your milkshake.

“I first want to say that whatever we choose to do from this point on, you are not allowed to leave me. Well, you can’t anyways because I am always going to be in your life.” He says with an unwavering smile on his face.

You hold back your smile and nod, letting him carry on.

“No I do mean it. I just think that we’d be better off just being…us. You know what I mean?” He says using his hands to emphasise.

“Mmm, let’s dig a little deeper. I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. Obviously what we shared was nice and I don’t think that we should regret it, right?” You say with a tilt of your head.

“I agree. I had a think about it whilst I drove to your house to pick you up and I don’t think it was fair of me to question what we did. In terms of making you think that I felt that it wasn’t right of us to do.” Minho explains. He looks around before leaning in slightly. “Especially since that was the best sex I have had in months.” He throws a wink your way and you have to stop yourself from taking a bow.

Him saying that feels as though numerous weights have been lifted off of your shoulders. You were most anxious about whether he either hated it or thought it was a mistake. So you’re now glad to hear that neither of it was the case.

The waiter comes over with your food and you thank them. You’re about to pick up your fork and take a bite of food to fuel your courage but you’re abruptly tutted at.

“Just because we are in the midst of an important conversation does not mean we skip tradition.” Minho says, raising his eyebrow at you.

You place the fork down and put up a peace sign as you pose. He takes out his camera and snaps a photo of you with both his and your meal in the frame. He then puts his middle finger up and poses with an over exaggerated bored expression. You chuckle to yourself before taking the photo.

“You said that we moved too fast assuming that we were moving in the first place. Do you still think that now?” You say before taking a bite of your meal.

He finishes his mouthful as he furrows his eyebrows and thinks about your question.

“Well I mean, I’d be an idiot to say that I didn’t think that it wouldn’t be going anywhere. But for us right now, I don’t think we should be moving at all.” He speaks.

The food you are swallowing seems to get a little stuck as you start to quietly choke. All the while Minho grows increasingly embarrassed at your lack of ability to stay alive.

“Okay calm, people are starting to look over.” He says to you, pouring you a glass of water from the jug on the table.

You take a few gulps and tap your chest.

“Damn. You shouldn’t say things like that when I’m mid chew.” You scold.

“My apologies, from now on I shall wait until the food has made its descent to the pit of acid in your stomach.” He lightly chuckles.

“So what I’m hearing is that all things considered romantically, we should stop. So we just continue on as friends?” You clarify.

He nods.

“Hit the nail on the head.”

“Right…I mean I guess that works. After all, we were friends before we got curious so I’m pretty sure we can just laugh about it and carry on.” You smile albeit quite painfully.

“Yes of course! We were just curious…” Minho adds, a painful smile also etched onto his features.

Can you just laugh about it and carry on? Even when it felt so natural? So…right?

There’s a silence pregnant with awkwardness as you and Minho avoid each other’s gazes and continue to eat.

Akin to a supporting artist having a cue to interact with the leads of a movie, the waiter comes over to ask if everything was alright with the food.

You both bombard him with praise and he seems a little taken aback and hurries away to the next table.

You don’t lie to Minho often, much like he doesn’t lie to you. However, in this café it seems the two of you are egregious liars. Which explains the way you both see right through each other.

You know that it’s only a matter of time until something happens again because unfortunately you have crossed the line. Let’s just hope you can go at least a month before you’re entangled in each other's arms again.

changbin | 1.1k (1120) words

One, two, three knocks on your door. You approach it slowly, looking through the peephole to see Changbin standing in his big puffer jacket and gloves.

You consider letting him stay in the cold a little longer, but the goodness in your heart wills your hand to open the door.

“Come in quickly, it’s cold.” You order.

He doesn’t dally with his movements, coming inside quickly as you shut the door behind him. It’s quiet as he takes off his shoes and coat, giving you a mildly awkward smile that was still dulcet.

“I was just making breakfast, would you like some?” You offer, walking into the kitchen.

“Oh, yes please that’d be nice thank you.” He says, following after you.

The atmosphere feels a little strange and you aren’t used to it. Changbin hasn’t yelled at all since stepping foot inside and usually you would’ve threatened the duct tape on his mouth by now.

You engage in some aimless chit chat with him whilst you cook. You figured you would ease into this conversation rather than just immediately diving head first.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” Changbin admires as he looks around your kitchen.

You turn to him, bewildered.

“I haven’t changed my kitchen since I moved in here, bin.” You establish.

“Really? Oh. I thought there was something different about this place in the week and a bit that I have been gone.” He says with genuinity.

“Why would I have changed my kitchen around in the week that you’ve been gone?” You ask.

He shrugs, stealing a blueberry from the bowl when your back is turned from him.

“I don’t know. Some people dye or cut their hair when they’re upset. I figured since you like your hair too much, you would’ve changed the next best thing.” He solidifies, feeling much too content with the way his brian works.

You on the other hand aren’t sure whether you’re being tested or if this is truly how he is choosing to behave.

You plate up the food and as you’re about to slide his plate over to him, you pull it back.

“For every question answered, you get a mouthful of food.” At this, Changbin gawks.

“This seems illegal in some form or another.” He sulks.

You open up your phone to your conversation with him.

“So it says here that you didn’t want to mess up our friendship, but emotions were running high and we weren’t thinking about the consequences. What consequences would that be?” You state.

He looks at you quizzically.

“Why do I feel like I’m in court right now? You’re reading the text messages out like evidence and I’m scared.” He says laughing awkwardly.

“You answer the question. You get to eat.” You redirect. He clears his throat before he begins.

“Well the consequences would be, erm, how us sleeping together will create ripples in our friendship whether we like it or not. I mean I’m not saying I regret it fully…but maybe a tiny bit?” He says fiddling with his hands.

He opens his mouth wide as he awaits your end of the deal. You pick up the fork and scoop up some food before you feed it to him.

For people who aren’t a couple, you sure do act like it.

“Why is that?” You press further.

“Because I didn’t want something like this to happen. By that I mean, if we were going to go all the way, then we should have established what we were prior. Even though our friends may think we are a couple, it wasn’t exclusively spoken about between us.” A beat. “But now I think that by letting ourselves get carried away, we missed the opportunity to settle things out with both of us clear on where we stand in our relationship.” He finishes.

You decide to give him two mouthfuls for that answer to which he hums happily in response.

You cannot doubt that what he said makes sense. You should have spoken about what you guys were before engaging in something as intimate as sleeping with each other.

Yet for two people who have already gone to second base countless times before and couldn’t control the libido this time, you also understand where things got messy.

“I think I get where you’re coming from now.” You say, eating your own mouthful.

Changbin nods in acknowledgment before stealing a handful of blueberries.

“But you also said that you still wanna be my best friend. Is that still true? Do you think we can get past this?” You ask apprehensively.

Changbin’s eyebrows furrow in disbelief.

“Of course! To both of your questions. Look at us, we’ve lasted this long. Yeah so I’ve been inside you, that’s fine! At least we had a good time, right? We can say that we’ve done it and gotten it out of our system.” He exclaims.

You pull a face at the last sentence and he is immediately scrambling to reword what he means.

“No, I don't see it as a throwaway act! I meant that because we had been stopping at second base because we were too scared to take it all the way, we finally reached the goal.” He stammers.

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms.

“No I don’t mean that sleeping with you was the goal, if anything it was off the pitch.” He tries to explain.

A single tilt of your head was all that was needed in order for him to slam his head into his hands and mutter a ‘I give up’.

You shake your head and slide the plate over to him as you move across the island to sit on the stall next to him. You place an arm around his shoulder as he sighs.

“I don’t want to lose you as my best friend too, bin. Let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah? What happened, happened. Now we both know where we stand about our friendship, it’s okay.”

He lifts his head from his palms and looks over you with his big black eyes.

“You mean that? Like actually? We’re good?” He asks. You laugh slightly.

“Yes bin, we’re good.” You reassured him.

“Oh thank God. Does that mean I can still call you my sweet—”

“One day at a time.” You say sternly.

The both of you smile as you finish the rest of your breakfast. There’s a twinge of hurt that you feel for you and Changbin not going forward as a couple, but you would rather this than to lose him forever.

So for now, you’ll cherish what an amazing friendship the two of you have and will continue to have.

hyunjin | 1.1k (1113) words

“Y/n open the fucking door.” You mimic Hyunjin’s last text message to you aloud as you walk down the stairs.

You were by no means rushing to get to the door, if anything, you think that standing right by it for a good two minutes or so to really irritate him would make you feel much better than you currently do.

Hyunjin continuously banging on the door pulls you out of your stubborn demeanour. If not for your neighbours, you’d have let him continue to bang against the door until his knuckles bruised.

Yet it seems your night couldn’t get any worse considering you’ve just taken a fist to the face. Perhaps that was your fault for catching him off guard when he was vigorously knocking as he appeared to have ‘knocked’ your face instead of the door.

“Oh fuck! Y/n!” Hyunjin yells as he cradles your face in his hands. You appreciate the gesture, you do, he was still your best friend after all. But if this wasn’t the cherry on top of the cake then you don’t know what is.

“Yep, good to see you too hyune.” You groan.

You scrunch your face as your hand moves to soothe your forehead. Shrugging out of his hold, you step inside of your home, trusting that he would follow suit and shut the door behind him.

“Y/n darling I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to knock against…your forehead.” He speaks with utmost genuinity as he shadows behind you.

You don’t say anything as you just grab yourself some frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel before moving to your living room to make yourself comfortable on the sofa as you wait for him to explain everything.

You’re thankful that he seems to be getting the hints tonight. He takes his place beside you, worry etched onto his beautiful face.

Damn his prince-like features…

“Explain yourself then, since texting wasn’t working for you.” You spit. He bites his lip nervously and fidgets with his hands before his eyes look from the bag of peas until falling onto your own.

“When…when I said I didn’t want you as my best friend, I meant because we can’t just go back to being best friends after that. It would just kill me knowing that you aren’t mine even after the night we shared.” He starts.

You sit still and listen, switching hands since the frozen peas were adding to the chill you already had from the conversation that loomed over your head.

“I don’t want you as my best friend because I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want us. Together.”

You wince. There’s a small part of you that just doesn’t believe him. You place down the now damp tea towel that holds the slowly melting peas.

He looks at you, trying to read your reaction, but you were giving nothing away.

“I just wanna know what was going through your head all those nights we spent together. We may not have had sex, but we did everything else. The cuddles, the kisses—when you familiarise yourself with every inch of my body—it would make sense that I thought we were something more than just best friends.”

He breaks eye contact, his interest now on the rings he adorns on his fingers. You can tell he is trying to think of something to say, so you wait patiently.

“I understand if you feel like I may have been using you.” He acquiesces in meeting your gaze, but he persists. “It hadn’t really occurred to me that you may have thought of us as more than best friends. Granted, instead of sitting in my uncertainty I should have just asked you. Then that night happened and it hit me. Afterwards, I just knew that I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”

You feel nauseous. You can’t decipher exactly what that was supposed to mean. You look over at the now wet kitchen towel.

“So you do regret it?” You pressed, your voice soft.

He holds his hands out and shakes his head as he quickly refutes his words.

“No of course not! I just meant that I know I should have asked you about us before that happened. I didn’t want it to be the case that you felt that I was not serious about us. ‘Cause having sex with someone is serious and I never wanted you to think I was playing around with your feelings.” He finishes.

You sit there thinking about what he said. Maybe he was being sincere. Maybe he really does want what you thought the two of you had for the past couple of months.

“How can I know that you aren’t just saying this? That you feel somewhat obligated to make us a thing because of the fact we slept with each other?” You ask.

“Because I was too much of a coward to say this earlier.” He speaks without missing a beat.

He scoots closer to you on the sofa, his hands providing warmth in yours. You don’t mean to dither, but you can’t help but weigh all the options. Hyunjin tilts his head to try and meet your eyes.

“I know you’re thinking about all of the things that could go wrong. About all of the things that could go right. What I could be for you in a day, a week, a month or even a year.” He cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking beneath your eye. “But just be with me in this present moment. Think about what I could be for you now.” He says quietly.

After some time, you lift your head to meet his gaze, the faintest smile on your lips.

“Okay.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in shock and by the look on his face, you were certain that he thought you were going to reject him.

“O-okay? You’re sure?” He presses.

“I’m sure. I can tell you truly meant what you said and I think this would be the better outcome for us. I don’t think I could picture my life without you in it.” You admit.

“Then I promise you won’t ever have to picture it because I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you, Y/n.” Hyunjin declares.

You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. You aren’t sure whether your head is throbbing from your injury or the thrill that comes with you and Hyunjin finally being together.

You just hope that Hyunjin is able to keep his promise that he won’t ever leave you; and that in the end, you made the right decision.

jisung | 1.1k (1115) words

You and Jisung sit on your sofa with a cup of tea in both of your hands. It’s been ten minutes since he has arrived and not one word has been said between the two of you.

That’s how things usually are between you and him though. You don’t particularly need to say anything to know what the other one needs.

However, you fear that your senses haven’t quite been tingling like they ought to be. Since what you thought was commonly shared between both parties has seemed to only be dumped into one.

An unrequited love is always bound to end in heartbreak and you’re sure that is how today is going to end.

“Is it just me or do things feel a little odd?” Jisung says breaking the ice, but in a way which has submerged the two of you in ice cold water.

“Well I think I would be a little more fraught if things didn’t feel odd.” You add.

You aren’t exactly happy with him at the moment either. In fact you think it’s in his best interest to explain just what he meant in those text messages.

“Explain yourself then.” You say not beating around the bush.

Jisung places his mug down before turning to you.

“I wanna start by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I worded what I was trying to say in those texts. You aren’t stupid Y/n, I promise. I’m the one that’s being stupid.” He meets your gaze and you give him a single nod.

“The truth is, I don’t think I’m ready to have a relationship with you.”

If your feelings are hurt, you will yourself not to show it on your face. Except your face goes pallid as you feel the knife stab directly into your beating heart.

“Then why make it seem as if we were? Why not shut it down? Better yet, why use me to get your rocks off and make me think that I am going to amount to more than just your best friend?” Your voice croaks, unable to hide the emotion you’re feeling.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“I can’t give you a definite answer of why I did all of that right now.” He says quietly.

You can’t help the scoff that falls from your mouth.

“What the fuck Ji? Why are you even here then? What are we even doing?!” You say starting to grow more upset.

His eyes widen slightly as he looks at you. He places a hand on your arm and is surprised when you don’t shrug him away.

“I promise I don’t mean to vex you, I just don’t have an answer because I don’t know. I just know that us having slept together made things seem…real. Like we were actually happening. When in actuality we weren’t and never will be.”

That was a punch to your gut so hard that your body viscerally reacted to his words and hunched over slightly. You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

This can’t be the Jisung that you were friends with for so long. No, he would never say something so outright.

It’s as if he hasn’t even registered what he just said because his face is that of worry as to why you are stunned silent.

“Jisung,” he winces at the use of his full name. “What did you expect to happen between us? Be honest, don’t say that you don’t know.” You speak gently.

He thinks for a moment, his hand slipping from your arm as he uses it to fiddle with the zipper of his jacket.

“I just expected for us to play around and not take it to the next step. I just wanted a bit of fun with my best friend. That’s not so bad is it?” He confesses, looking at his feet.

The knife is pushed deeper.

You honestly aren’t sure how to react. What to say or even do. So you sit in silence.

Minutes go by and all you can hear are the hum of the electronics in the room and the breathing of Jisung. He always has been a loud breather.

A clearing of the throat pulls you out of your trance.

“Please say something, anything.” He pleads. You slowly turn your face towards him.

“What would you like me to say Jisung? I have just found out that my best friend—you—has been using me for shits and giggles and being a total ignorant asshole while he does so.” You retort.

He shakes his head as he frowns at your words.

“No, no I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t use you just for that. Why would I do that Y/n? You mean more to me than that.” He runs his hand through his brown locks, getting frustrated. “Look, I don’t think we should blow this too much out of proportion. We did something that we shouldn’t have and now we just have to move on.” He says.

“You don’t mean that.”

“You’re my best friend Y/n. You know me inside and out. Maybe I haven’t been so transparent with you lately. I just think that I need to figure out some stuff on my own because clearly everything I say is hurting you and I hate the way I hurt you. Fuck, just seeing your face now, knowing I was the cause. I can’t do this. Not anymore.” He says solemnly.

You blink. The tears trickle down your cheeks as you take into account what he is saying.

No. This isn’t your Jisung. Just give him some time and he’ll be back. He’ll come back.

“What are you saying to me Ji?” He places a hand on your cheek before standing up and putting on his shoes.

You immediately get up and follow him to the front door.

“Jisung.” You whisper. He opens the door and steps out, stopping and turning to you once more.

“I’m always gonna be in your corner Y/n. Okay? Always.” Jisung says as he smiles sadly at you and turns away from your door.

Watching him leave feels like the knife is twisting uncontrollably. You shut your door, not wanting to see him in case you’ll do something stupid like run and stop him from walking out of your life.

You’re angry, you’re hurt, you’re confused. You’re in a state of shock. Was that a goodbye? Will you ever see him again?

You cover your mouth with your hand as you sob quietly as reality sets in. You had just lost the man you had fallen for, your best friend.

You aren’t sure if he is ever coming back.

felix | 1.0k (1077) words

The sun is setting and you find yourself in the familiar skatepark which you and Felix frequently visit to hang out.

This was a first, you getting here before him. It felt uncanny, especially since the skatepark is an empty void. It’s not like you’re here at the late hours of the night which is what you guys usually do, so where are the people?

As you sit atop the ramp wondering this, Felix climbs up and sits next to you.

“Hey Y/n.” He greets. No remark about you being here before him for a change. You face him and greet him with a small smile.

“The sky is pretty this evening. Any particular reason for why you wanted to meet at our spot earlier than usual?” He asks you.

“I knew the sky would be worth seeing from here today. I also wanted to be able to see your face when you lie.” You deadpan.

He audibly swallows at this which makes you chuckle and start to swing your feet.

“I’m kidding. Just wanted to watch the sun go down.” You tease.

It’s silent, bar the birds chirping and the rustle of the leaves as the wind dances through the trees.

“So about what happened with us,” Felix starts. “You think that we are more than just best friends?” He asks. You hum in acknowledgement.

“I thought we were more than best friends for a while. You know, since this whole shebang started. The sex was just what I thought was you being ready to take our relationship further. Though that was foolish of me to think and not double check with you.”

Felix, now turnt to face towards the sunset, is quiet as he takes into consideration what you have just said.

“It wasn’t foolish.” He says ever so quietly.

Your legs still their movement as you turn to look at him. His face is being kissed nicely by the sun right now, his freckles practically glowing.

“Of course it was foolish Felix. Or else we wouldn’t be here now.” You smile as you tip your head back and close your eyes, letting the last of the sun’s warmth seep through your skin.

“No. It wasn’t foolish because I was ready. Okay that’s not entirely true, I caught feelings months ago but I only became sure about them during that week I was away.” He softly speaks.

You drop your head and look towards him. His eyes are still glued to the vast blanket of orange and yellow across the horizon.

“But that’s not what you said in those text messages. You said that you think that boundary shouldn’t have been crossed in the first place. Yet now you’re saying this? Forgive me Felix, but I’m finding it hard to believe what’s coming out of your mouth.” You sigh.

He finally turns and looks at you, a small scowl on his face.

“I know what I said in the texts Y/n. I don’t go back on my word. I do think a boundary was crossed and as best friends it shouldn’t have been.” A beat. “Though that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel something towards you. That’s why I’m so confused.” He turns his head back towards the sky, the deep shade of blue starting to make itself evident.

“Like I said, I didn’t expect to catch feelings for you and then have sex with you.” He finishes.

You lay down, watching the dark grey clouds move.

“Do you remember much of that night?” You ask.

“Of course I do. How could I ever forget. I mean we are literally sitting on the ramp that it happened on.” He reminisced.

“Remember when I told you that I was yours and you were mine? That was probably said in the heat of the moment, but I meant it Felix. I’m not the kind of person who says things for the sake of saying them. Plus, I’m not focused on anybody other than you.” You say, closing your eyes again as the cool air brushes against your face.

Though your eyes are closed, you sense that Felix was staring at you. You hear his clothes rustle before you’re wrapped up in his arms.

He is cuddling you.

“Doll, I’m sorry. I didn’t just say those things because we were high off oxytocin. You really mean so much to me. I don't want us to argue, I just want us to be together. For real. No hesitations, no take backs. Just you and me living how we do, but together as one.”

You can feel something wet drip into the crook of your neck. You know it’s not raining so you figure he has started to cry.

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings Y/n. It’s not what I wish to ever do to the person I love.” He sobs.

You open your eyes as you hear his admittance. The person he loves. The person he loves.

“You love me?”

“I’m in love with you. I was trying to make sense of if I truly meant it over that week and I reacted like I did earlier because I know you didn’t love me back. I was embarrassed.” He confessed.

You turn over in his arms as you grab ahold of his face. It’s dark now, but a nearby light creates a twinkle in his eyes.

“I want you to be sure that this is what you want. You don’t have to promise me forever, but promise me that this is truly what you want until it isn’t.” You say gently.

His bottom lip wobbles slightly as he takes a deep breath in then out.

“I am sure. I promise. I love you, I’m in love with you. I want us to be best friends. I want us to be lovers. I want it all. I want you.” He whispers against your lips.

You smile, wiping his tears away with your thumb.

“Okay, me too. We’re locked in?” You hold up your pinky.

“We’re locked in.” He connects his pinky with yours and pulls your face in to kiss you softly.

The two of you lay there in each other’s arms for the rest of that evening until a security guard ushered the two of you away.

As you walk hand in hand down the street, you’re just glad that you have this ball of sunshine all to yourself. For as long as time allows.

seungmin | 1.5k (1518) words

You were nervous. More nervous than you expected yourself to get. Which is probably how you find yourself scrambling to get your phone, sending Seungmin a message to say that you don’t want to meet up and would rather just call.

His reply after reading your message was to immediately dial you up, leaving no time for you to think about what you’re going to say and how you’re going to say it.

You answer the phone with baited breath.

“Why didn’t you want to meet me? You nervous or something?” He says very straightforwardly.

Yes.

“No. Just realised that I have things to do and I can multitask if I speak with you over the phone.” You lie.

You hear him sigh on the other side of the line.

“I’d rather you weren’t multitasking whilst we are having an important conversation about us. Pay attention.”

Your jaw clenches as you bite your tongue.

“Fine. Since you want to be such an adult about this, why don’t you do us the honour and start us off?” You quip.

“You already know how I feel about that night. About us blurring those lines between friendship and something more. We shouldn’t have. Having said that, I value our friendship too much to let something like that fuck it up.” Seungmin says plainly.

You roll your eyes, not understanding what exactly he means by that.

“Okay…but you do realise that us sleeping together has changed everything, right?” You say unwavering in your tone.

“Wrong.”

You waited for him to finish what you hoped would be a longer sentence, but all you could hear was the minor feedback from the other end of the line. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you try again.

“What do you mean, wrong? Things can’t go back to normal after that night, shit, after everything that’s happened between us.” You exclaim.

“And I’m not saying they have to—”

“You are absolutely not still using me as a way to blow your load Seungmin.” You interrupt harshly.

You hear him groan on the other end of the phone to which you decide to put him on speakerphone and place him on your bed. You wipe your face with your hands in frustration as you wait for him to speak.

“I’m not going to do this with you if you’re going to be angry for starters. Especially if you’re going to be interrupting me. Got it?” He asserts.

You release a huff of air, choosing to stay quiet in regards to what he has just said, but you reluctantly agree.

“Fine, sorry. Carry on.” You say as nicely as you can muster up.

“What I’m saying is I care about you Y/n. I don’t think it’s fair that people have also been feeding you troubles about our friendship. It’s between us and not them. They don’t know what the fuck is going on and I’ll be getting on their asses for that later, but right now my focus is on you.” He explains.

You stay quiet, noting the fact that he is now outside and walking.

“Seungmin, you can’t seriously fault our friends for noticing something you were determined to ignore. We were doing things couples do!”

“But we aren’t a couple. That is what I’m trying to get at Y/n.” He says exasperated. You hear a police siren go by on his end of the line which muffles the last part of his sentence.

“Then why even do all that with me? Of course I was going to catch feelings. I’d be stupid not to!” You exclaim, resting your head in your hands.

He’s quiet. The only sounds to be heard is the distorted traffic. You sit there unmoving, wondering why he isn’t speaking.

A loud series of knocks on your door jolt you out of your trance.

“One second, someone is at my door.” You alert Seungmin. Putting on your slippers, you rush to the door. You open it and you feel your face run cold.

Seungmin huddles over, catching his breath before he makes a show to end the call between the two of you.

“I am not having this conversation with you over a fucking phone.” He pants.

He lets himself in, your mind still boggled at the fact that he chose to fast walk over here just to have this conversation. You’re both touched and terrified. Touched because he seems to really care about talking about your relationship in person. Terrified because this is getting much more serious than you thought it was.

It’s times like these where you wish you and Seungmin hadn’t planned to live so close together. Now you have no choice but to face him in the flesh.

In the time that you were finally able to come to your senses and shut your front door, Seungmin had taken off his shoes and jacket and was standing behind you waiting.

He grabs ahold of your hand and leads you to your own bedroom.

“Seungmin, I don't want to have angry sex with you.” You blurt out. You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle, but he’s already sitting you on the edge of your bed.

He places his hands on your shoulders and imitates taking a deep breath in and out.

“No, that is not what I’m here to do.” He crawls up to the top of your bed and sits resting against the headboard. “I am here to make amends and stop what shouldn’t have started in the first place.” He says calmly.

You have to hold your stomach to try and soothe the impending vomit that is about to ascend up and out of your mouth.

“I’m gonna be honest with you Seungmin. What you did, knowing you never wanted it to happen or go this far, was not cool. I’m not saying you’re to blame for the whole of it…but as someone who was catching feelings and seemingly thought you were as well, I genuinely thought that us continuing to be intimate with each other was because you liked me.” You finish.

As you sit crossed-legged at the foot of the bed and Seungmin sits at the head, you start to feel this strange disconnect between the two of you.

Seungmin sits there silent, clearly thinking of something to say in response.

“I…I think I didn’t stop it because it felt good.” He says.

“Good because it was us or good because you had someone to calm your sexual frustrations?” You ask.

The way he hesitates to answer and hold eye contact with you tells you everything you need to know.

You let out a scoff, getting up from your bed and starting to pace laps in your room.

“I cannot believe this. You were the last person who I thought would do this to me.” You say, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“Y/n you know I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I-I care about you!” He says now getting up from the bed.

He goes to reach out and grasp your arm but you step out of his way, causing him to stumble slightly.

Not only are you fighting your tears, but you are battling your inner turmoil. Something like this would deem him unfit to stay in your life, no?

You couldn’t possibly still be his closest friend if he truly just used you for pleasure, right?

“Y/n please look at me.” He says, his hands now balling up besides his legs.

“I can’t do this anymore. I want you to leave.” You speak barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“I want. You. To leave.” Your voice cracks slightly, but you turn around to face him. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open, as if he isn’t quite sure that this is what you mean.

Taking the initiative, you walk out of your bedroom and to your front door. You hear his footsteps behind you, murmuring a few ‘waits’ and ‘calm downs’. Grabbing his jacket, you shove it in his chest and step back.

Your arms are wrapped around yourself for comfort as you keep your head held low.

Seungmin silently puts on his jacket and shoes and reaches for the door handle. Yet, as he is about to open the door, he pauses midway through his movement.

“Leave your house or leave you forever?” He says disconcertingly.

You lift your head up, his back facing you. You assess him for only a moment. His hand that strangles the door handle shakes slightly and his other hand grasps his jacket.

“Both.” You choke.

He doesn’t miss a beat. Swinging open the door and leaving without looking back.

Just like that, all those years of friendship cut abruptly due to the confounding circumstances that conspired between the two of you.

Some could say it was rather quixotic of you to expect that you could actually have a relationship with Seungmin.

Though you would just say that perhaps falling in love with your best friend was never the right path, but one you were unfortunate enough to take.

i.n | 1.2k (1257) words

You can’t control the way you feel. You’re hurt. You’re beyond angry. You’re hysterical. How dare he talk to you like that? How dare he disregard everything the two of you have been through because he wants to stay your ‘best friend’?

You well and truly can’t promise that you won’t blow up on him when he gets here. That’s if he even bothers to show up. He’s already twenty minutes late and you’re sitting in the cold, on a park bench, drinking your hot chocolate.

“Y/n!” Jeongin calls out to you as he walks over to sit beside you on the bench.

“Where’s mine?” He says, his voice laden with sarcasm as he points to your drink. He quirks his eyebrow at you as he assesses your mood and it certainly isn’t one accommodating his jokes at the moment.

Breathe…breathe…

He turns to face you, one leg crossed beneath him as his arm rests on the back of the bench, his gloved fingers tapping a beat on your shoulder.

“Are you feeling better now? You’re gonna talk this out with me like the adults we are, hm?” He smiles.

You turn to face him, unable to mask your ire.

“Just best friends huh?” You speak for the first time in a while.

Jeongin stops tapping your shoulder to run his fingers through his hair. Tugging his coat closer around him to provide some sort of warmth to not only protect himself from the bitter chill of the air, but the icy look in your eyes.

“I admit, crossing those lines with you was never my intention. Being that I didn’t kiss or sleep with you because I wanted a relationship with you. I guess I was just lonely, you were available…tensions were high and we couldn’t control ourselves.”

You actually feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. This is not the Jeongin you knew and loved as your best friend. No, he was far nicer than what you’re currently faced with.

You are rendered speechless. The only thing you can think to do is take another sip of your hot chocolate.

It would be ideal if your hands stopped shaking.

“You get where I’m coming from though right? Like I said, I care for you. More than anybody else I know, but what we did was a mistake and that’s okay. We’ll know to never let those boundaries be crossed again alright?” He says placing a hand on your thigh.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Y/n–”

“Jeongin get your hand off of me, now.”

The smile that you used to adore, now falls from his face. His lips thinning as his jaw clenches and his gaze hardens.

“I genuinely thought that you had reason to be so pissy at me, you know, due to your work being so busy and all,” You laugh bitterly. “But you really are just a fucking asshole.”

He rolls his eyes and moves to get up before your hand reaches out to stop him.

“Sit the fuck down, I’m not done with you. I’m only going to say it once.” You say acrimoniously.

Heeding your warning, he sits back down, his hands finding solace in his lap.

“See, I was speaking with Hyunjin when you were supposedly too busy to talk to me and he gave me some pretty good advice.” You say finishing the rest of your drink and setting it aside.

“What are you doing asking him for advice? He has no business knowing what goes on between the two of us, let alone an argument.” He spits.

Ignoring his disapproval, you elect yourself to continue.

“He said that you don’t deserve me in your life. That a best friend would never, should never treat me like that–”

“Oh bull-fucking-shit! He is only saying that so that he can gets his filthy hands on you himself.” He interrupts, shaking his head as he looks beyond the lake at the horizon.

“I agree.”

Jeongin nods his head in approval to your words.

“You don’t deserve me in your life.”

His head snaps to yours as he sits up straight, clasping his hands together as he tilts his head.

“What?”

“I am not your little fucktoy for you to use whenever you get sick of your hand. I’m not the easy option because I’m the closest you can get to getting off without people catching on. You know because we’re best friends, right? No one will suspect a thing, right?”

You have started, gone past the point of no return as you lay into him and rightfully so.

“I thought you had calmed down from earlier? What, did you discuss with Hyunjin all of the things to say to me before I got here? The fuck does he know? He doesn’t even know you like I do!” He exclaims, his voice raising in pitch.

You gawk, unable to believe how he just bypassed what you said to talk shit about his friend.

“This isn’t about Hyunjin for fuck’s sake! This is about us! Or rather the lack of.” You stand up, taking deep breaths as you pace in front of him back and forth. “You keep talking to me like I’m some fucking child. Like I can’t comprehend the words that are coming out of my mouth.”

You stop in front of him, sighing.

“I don’t want to be in your life anymore. I’m done.”

His eyes widen as he grasps ahold of your hands, his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just angry. You want me to apologise? Okay sure. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used you like that and let it get that far knowing I wasn’t ready for a relationship.” He begs.

You feel your eyes start to well up with tears. This isn’t how you imagined a six year friendship to end, but alas, here the two of you are.

He stands now, moving his hands to cup your cheeks, his eyes darting between yours.

“Come on. Let’s not act rash now Y/n. It was a mistake.” He keeps trying to reassure you.

You shake his hands off of your face as you take a step back.

“It wasn’t a mistake for me. It never was and never will be because I didn’t just see you as someone who was available. I’m serious, I won’t be treated like shit. Not anymore and certainly not by you.” You affirm.

He lets his hands fall to his sides, his fists clenching.

“So this is it huh? You really wanna leave me, leave six years of friendship because you got your feelings hurt?” He asks.

“Fuck you, Jeongin. Don’t contact me ever again. I’m finished.” You say scoffing a laugh.

You pick up your empty cup and start to walk away, not bothering to turn back to see how he reacts. Only then do you let the tears run marathons down your face.

Little did you know, his fists unclenched and his hands were brought to his face. He collapses onto the bench, watching your figure get smaller and smaller until he can no longer see you.

It was in that moment, where Jeongin only just realised how royally he had fucked up. His head falls into his hands as he takes deep breaths.

The smoke caused from the cold air and the warmth of his mouth floating along the sky. Much like you, floating out of his life and disappearing. Lost to the abyss of a forever memory in his heart.

a/n: the plate is still full i fear because why do i hate this so much AHSGAIA SGAISBSKSVG (i apologise. i said i would deliver, but the package got lost in transit)

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

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lovebugism · 9 months

Note

What about Eddie with shy!reader who still gets shy & flustered when he compliments/praises her even after being together for months now 🥺

hi love! this is such a sweet lil scenario! thanks sm for your request!! — the one where eddie is super good at making you feel pretty (but only because you make it so easy)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“Does this look okay?” you ask for the hundredth time. Maybe millionth.

Eddie doesn’t shrug you off, though. He never does — not even when you’ve repeated the same question to him a thousand times.

The boy eyes your outfit like he’s really analyzing it, just like you wanted him to. In its fourth iteration, it looks only slightly different than the one before it, but he’ll take any opportunity to look at you that comes his way.

Most of the time, you can’t stand it when he stares at you for too long. Now he can do it all he wants because you’re asking him to. He feels a little like the luckiest guy on the planet.

“The skirt’s really pretty,” Eddie affirms with a nod. He’d argue that you’ve looked pretty in everything you’ve shown him, but he knows that’s not the answer you’re looking for. “I think I like it better than the jeans, actually.”

Even though you could wear almost anything and drive him insane, nothing beats seeing you in skirts. Something about your legs has always worked him wild — maybe because you keep them covered so often.

It isn’t every day he gets to see you in these shorter bottoms. Those are only reserved for real special occasions. And, for some strange reason, you’ve decided that’s what Steve’s party is.

You look over your shoulder at the boy sprawled out on the edge of your bed. His wild hair and all black get-up looks much more jarring than usual against your baby pink comforter.

He’s dreadfully out of place in your girlish bedroom. You never want him to leave.

“You think so?” you wonder aloud, toying nervously with the hem of your white skater skirt. It’s not super short, stopping just below mid-thigh, but you’re nervous that it might be anyway.

Eddie scoffs like the answer’s obvious. “Totally. You look killer, babe. I’m gonna have to walk behind you all night to keep everyone from staring at you.”

Your nose scrunches at the crude compliment. Sometimes you wonder if Eddie thinks you’re prettier than you really are — like one of those funky carnival mirrors, but with the opposite effect.

He’s under some sort of spell, you figure. He must be.

You don’t deserve to be loved on as much as he loves on you.

“I’m being serious, Eds,” you argue halfheartedly as you turn back to the mirror. You tug at the bottom of your snug crop top when a sliver of your stomach starts to show.

The bed squeaks under his weight when he rises from his lounged position. He laughs and it sounds like sunshine. “I am being serious. You look amazing.”

“You always think I look amazing,” you murmur, flashing him a weak glare from beneath your lashes through the mirror. You’re not as annoyed as you seem. Embarrassed and a little undeserving, sure — but not annoyed.

“How’s that my fault?” Eddie scoffs with a chuckle. His chunky sneakers thud, thud, thud against your carpeted floor as he walks over to you. “If you didn’t look so pretty all the time, I wouldn’t have to compliment you, so… Checkmate.”

“Stop it…” you protest, mousy and only half-joking.

Eddie’s almost certain that none of his words ever get through to you. Every time he tells you something nice, you think he’s joking. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never been serious about anything in his life — other than you, of course — or if you don’t think you’re worthy of praise.

Maybe it’s a healthy mixture of both.

It breaks his heart all the same.

Your back meets his chest when he stands behind you. His deep, musky cologne engulfs you like a fuzzy blanket. His ringed fingers are warm as they splay along your hips.

Even when he’s barely touching you, he makes you feel so held.

“I mean it,” Eddie assures. His voice is soft, quiet, and serious — a stern sort of coo. His button-eyed gaze pierces your own as he stares at you in the mirror. He squeezes softly at your sides. “You look really pretty, babe. I think you should go with this one.”

Grateful that the attention is less on you and more on your outfit, you get less sheepish. “You don’t think it’s too much for a party?”

“No,” he answers with a curt shake of his wild head. “’S perfect. Honestly.”

You huff and lean back against him — not relaxed, exactly, just wanting to feel more of him. Eddie’s chin rests on your shoulder as your arms cross over your stomach. You look almost like you’re hugging yourself.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” you wonder, so quietly it sounds like a bunch of mumbles.

Eddie’s practically developed super-hearing after being with you for so long.

He scoffs in response. “They’re gonna love you,” he promises, brows raised beneath his frizzy bangs. A pink smile tugs at his mouth. “Like, seriously. They’re gonna be obsessed with you. Henderson, especially. Him and Robin are gonna talk your ear off the whole night.”

You’re smiling before you realize it.

You love that he can imagine you so perfectly meshing with all the people he cares about. Your heart swells at the thought. You love fitting into his world.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods with a scrunched nose. “And then I’m gonna have to share you with them and… You know what? Maybe this is a terrible idea.”

You exhale sharply through your nose in place of a laugh. You purse your lips to the side when you feel like you’re smiling too big. It takes over your whole mouth anyway.

Eddie watches your gaze duck towards the floor where his dirty sneakers stand alongside your shiny Mary Janes. He smiles at you like he’s just heard his favorite song on the radio — like he’s watching happiness incarnate and holding her in his hands.

“There it is,” he singsongs quietly. “I’ve been waiting to see you smile all night.”

Your face heats like a stove eye. You think you might actually burn him if he touched your cheeks just now.

“Stop,” you whine as if he’s hurt you in some way. You writhe in his arms to escape his grip, but he only holds you tighter.

“Sorry, babe,” Eddie apologizes, mostly insincere. He tucks his face into your shoulder and mumbles his words there. “You can’t escape me.”

He sprinkles tiny kisses on your neck. You raise your shoulders, not because you want him to stop, but because the softness of his touch tickles you there. You’d rather feel his lips against your own, anyway.

“You’re such a sap,” you tease as your head turns to peer up at him. The words leave your mouth so softly you might as well be telling him ‘I love you.’ In some ways, you are.

“I mean it, though,” he confesses. He seals his promise with a barely-there peck to the tip of your nose. His lips just barely brush your skin before he’s pulling away again. “You look pretty. Beautiful, even.”

You trap your smile between your teeth as you twist in his hold. Your arms stay pressed between your bodies while his arms embrace you wholly. “Beautiful, huh?” you echo with a sarcastic lilt.

“Uh-huh. Beautiful with a capital B.”

Despite how desperately you want to look away from his intent gaze — so full of love that they’re twinkling with it — you force yourself to keep his stare. “Well, I think you’re Beautiful with a capital B, too, Eds…”

Eddie beams at you, taking your compliment in stride. You wish you could do that, too.

“Thank you, baby,” he hums before smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint and strawberry chapstick.

It’s over far quicker than you’d like it to be. He doesn’t seem as grieved by it as you do.

“Alright, babe. Let’s go,” he announces with a boyish grin when he parts from you. You smile as he heads out of your bedroom, picking up the purse on your desk as he goes. He knew you’d forget it otherwise.

His voice comes muffled from the hallway, “Your chariot awaits!”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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purplealmonds · 1 month

Text

Finished this just in time for the new trailer drop! This is my Mononoke illustration featuring assorted merch from the anime, movie, and stage play! How many can you recognize? ⚖️👹

(Yes, please send answers in the replies! Answers, progress pics, artist commentary will be drafted on a separate post when I'm less tired) ⭐️ UPDATE 04/03/24: Abridged artist commentary is now available under the cut! For the full version, please see the Google Doc linked in the replies.

👁️Overview

Late last year, I rather belatedly discovered Mononoke’s 15th anniversary came and went, and with it, an entire swath of new content to manically pore over. This is an illustration of the various Mononoke merchandise, props, and set dressing I discovered.

---

🔎Scope

Some fun facts regarding the work that went into this illustration!

Not including research time, this project ran for roughly two months, consuming much of my waking hours outside of my full time and freelance jobs.

While the illustration does not depict all of my findings, it does feature over 120 unique props and set dressings!

The majority of the props and set dressing were modeled to varying degrees of detail in SketchUp.

To model prep, I often put together schematics on Photoshop or Illustrators. Some were created from scratch. Others were created with the liberal usage of the Photoshop transform and perspective warp function.

The master file is 1.5GB. The dimensions are 6400x3600 at 300 dpi, and contains over 2,200 layers.

Near the end of production, the master file became so unwieldy I created a separate working file. This way, I could create assets lag-free then import the layers into the master file.

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Past this point is where most of the commentary cuts were made for the sake of brevity. Again, look in the replies for the Google Doc link containing the full version with a table of contents for easier navigation!

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🗳️3D Layout

As you can see, the backbone of this illustration is the 3D model. I spent perhaps 30-40% of my production time on this stage.

And this is the lit version. The lighting ultimately got downplayed in favor of showcasing the vibrant colors. I like how simple it looks though!

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🎬Production-Based Set Dressing

In addition to merchandise, I wanted to insert set dressing and props from the various Mononoke productions.

🦊Kusuriuri

It’s odd to have a section dedicated just to him, but his unique appearance warrants it. His garb and overall appearance is an amalgam of the anime and movie. The original intent was ambiguity– kind of like the blue/black vs. yellow/white dress phenomena a few years back. But after doing the color flats, I rather liked how the rich, unaltered colored fit with the overall composition so it became more blatant. I’m surprised that nobody has commented on this since I published the illustration. Maybe because I didn’t feature him in a close-up?

🐈 kai ~Ayakashi~Bake Neko (2006)

Finding props iconic to this story arc (outside of the Kusuriuri’s tools of trade, of course) was somewhat difficult. While the environment was richly decorated, it mainly consisted of 2D artwork which I wasn’t keen on retracing. I opted to paint objects that characters interacted with or featured heavily in the show.

Salt Jar

Candlestick

Rat Trap

🦋Mononoke (2007)

The props fall into three distinct categories here: Kusuriuri’s tools and trinkets; things featured in the opening and ending credits; and objects iconic to each of the five story arcs in the series. I tried to keep most of them clustered on the tatami, but as space grew scarce some props trickled up onto the deck as well.

Medicine Box

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Mirror

Ring

Geta Sandal

Necklace

Paper Umbrella (Zashikiwarashi)

Daruma Dolls ( Zashikiwarashi)

Gunpowder Ball (Umi Bozu)

Smoking Pipe (Nopperabou)

Genjiko Blocks (Nue)

Train Ticket (Bake Neko)

Lantern (Anime OP)

Butterflies (Anime EP)

☂️Mononoke: Karakasa (2024)

Pretty slim pickings for the new movie since I only had the teaser, first trailer, and movie poster to reference from. Kusuriuri’s tools of trade were a given, but finding memorable and narratively significant objects was a tad troublesome.

Thankfully, the set dressing ended up (however subconsciously) strikingly similar to the movie’s environment design, down to the green tatami and multicolor shoji screen. I suppose at this point I was so immersed in Mononoke content that its aesthetics subconsciously informed my design choices!

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Comb

Movie Poster

Butterfly (Custom design)

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🪭Official Merchandise

Goods related to canonical narratives and/or productions.

🎊15th Anniversary

Mononoke Shu - A light novel by Hideyui Niki & illustrated by 2964_KO

Whiskey Glass & Box

📖 Key Frame Art Books by Hashimoto Takashi

Ayakashi Key Art Frame Book (2010)

Key Frame Art Book vol.9 (2017)

📚Manga by Yaeko Ninagawa

Kai Ayakashi: Bake Neko Vol. 1-2

Kai Ayakashi: Mononoke Prequel

Mononoke Vol. 1-10

🎭Butai Mononoke

Bakeneko Pamphlet

Zashikiwarashi Pamphlet

Zashikiwarashi Acrylic Standees

Zashikiwarashi Manegi

💿Physical Media

Official OST CD

DVD Box Set

Yokai Pattern Fabric

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Common Collab Merchandise

This category consists of goods that are generally more affordable and feature graphics from the source material with minimal alterations.

Amnibus

Wall Scrolls

Tenugui Fabric

Shot Glasses

Minoyaki Bean Plates

ANIGA-TER

Stickers

Can Badges

Canvas Prints

Anique

Diorama Acrylic Stand

Acrylic Blocks

Challenge Kuji

Kusuriuri & Hyper Clocks

eeo Store Online

Folding Fan

Keychains

Can Badges

gj character G

Cushion

Acrylic Charms

Neo Gate

Satchels

Mini Badges

Mini Badges by Mame Shinoda

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High-End Collab Merchandise

Goods which derive motifs from the characters, props, and patterns from the production and transform them in an elevated manner through abstraction or usage of precious materials.

gj character G

Exorcism Sword Ring

Goodsmile

Kusuriuri Nendoroid Figurine

Folding Screen

Kusuriuri & Hyper Plush

Tote Bag

Kaya

Umbrella

Tenbin Kanzashi

Tabi Socks

Dress

Kotobukiya

Figurine

Mayla

Pump Heels

Kusuriuri & Hyper Hairpins

Tenbin Earrings

Hyper Earrings

Noitamina Apparel

Perfume

Tenbin Necklace

Folding Fan

Super Groupies

Purse

Wallet

Watch

Tsumuji Design

Exorcism Sword Necklace

Ofuda Bracelet

Useless Use Lab

Fragrance Set

Air Purifier

Three-Sided Mirror

#mononoke 2007 #mononoke 2024 #mononoke fanart #medicine seller #kusuriuri #モノノ怪 #mononoke anime #薬売り #mononoke #fan art #purplealmonds #2024

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hyperfixatedbastard · 2 months

Text

sweet, sweet silence

Vox x Autistic!GN!Reader

Dating the CEO of VoxTek Enterprises has its perks. You always get brand new devices before they even hit the shelves, and occasionally, Vox makes things specifically for you - like noise-cancelling headphones.

Word Count: 1.3k

WARNINGS: none!

A/N: this is for the autistic homies but it works for anyone with sensory issues! 'tis based off of my own experiences so apologies if it feels inaccurate to anyone, i'm projecting so hard rn. this is also my first time writing x reader/2nd person POV so I hope I did alright! also, i do requests if anyone would like to see more of this kind of thing :)

Dividers

"Doll, c'mere for a second, would ya?" Vox calls out to you, gesturing for you to come to his desk with a 'come hither' motion.

You raise a brow in interest as you approach your boyfriend where he's sitting in his rather eccentric chair, tinkering with...something. You hop up onto the desk, careful to sit in a spot that you know has no important screens or buttons (you learned the hard way). You don't say anything, instead just tilting your head and waiting for Vox to show off whatever he's been working on this time.

He finally lets you see what's in his clawed hands: a pair of headphones. They're clearly a VoxTek product—the blue and red color scheme gives it away—though you're certain you've never seen these on sale before. It's not uncommon for Vox to show off new products to you before they're released, though, so you don't question it.

He smirks as he holds the headphones out to you. It's not that sly, devious smile he so often has on his screen, though; it's that grin you have when you're about to surprise someone and you just know they're going to love it. "These are for you, darling."

On one hand, you get a little excited (free shit, fuck yeah!). But on the other, you're a little worried—you're not good at receiving gifts. It always ends up awkward because you don't really know how to express gratitude in an expected, neurotypical way. But Vox is well aware of that, and he can tell when you're grateful, so you push those worries to the side and take the headphones from him.

You look at them curiously, inspecting the foldable hinges, the ear cushions, and the small assortment of buttons on the speakers. You can tell that the three buttons on the right speaker are for adjusting the volume—increase, mute, and decrease—but you have no damn clue what the button on the left speaker is for.

"Well? Put 'em on," Vox encourages you, still with that expectant grin as he anticipates your reaction.

You do as he says and place the headphones over your ears. They're certainly comfortable, but you don't see what the big deal is. You already have headphones—they’re not great, as it’s damn near impossible to drown out the unbearably overstimulating sounds of Hell, but you manage. Kinda.

Just as you’re about to ask what’s so special about these headphones, Vox presses that mystery button on the left speaker, and everything goes blissfully quiet.

Your eyes widen as you get the first moment of true silence for the first time since you arrived in Hell. The sudden difference is initially jarring, but the relief is downright euphoric.

During the entirety of your afterlife in Hell, it's been ceaselessly loud and often unbearable. The screams, the explosions, the gunshots—it's incessant, and you never get a moment of peace. The V Tower is not nearly as bad as the rest of the Pride Ring, thanks to a lot of soundproofing, but there's always something. Moans and other lewd noises fill the halls of anywhere within five floors of Valentino's studios. You can hear the screeching and yelling beneath the thrum of music emitting from Velvette’s section of the tower. 666 Studios isn't much better, with the constant chattering of the crew and bickering between newscasters.

Vox's lair office is by far the quietest place in the entirety of Hell, at least in your experience. The soundproofing here is much more effective than anywhere else in V Tower, and Vox is the only person ever here. He does talk and maniacally laugh to himself fairly often, but you don’t usually don’t mind that (and he’ll typically quite down if he can tell you’re having a rough day). But it’s far from perfect—there’s still the intermittent click-clacking of a keyboard, the constant whirring of the computer fans, the low humming of all the tech, and the audio from whatever security camera Vox is spying on. You can tune it out most of the time, but it all overwhelms you so, so easily.

And you aren't very good at hiding it (at least not with Vox, who’s too observant for his own damn good when it comes to you).

Which is why your dear boyfriend has just spent the past several days making you the best noise-canceling headphones Hell has ever seen. He knows what the constant overstimulation does to you, and he sees it far more often than he'd like to. You get irritated and snippy, and sometimes it gets so bad you have a meltdown. It's gotten less common over time, but it still happens way too frequently for either of your likings.

“So, who’s the best boyfriend ever?” he hints, clearly fishing for a compliment. His voice is surprisingly clear despite the headphones practically deafening you—his words are muffled, but just loud enough for you to understand what’s being said. He's grinning at you like he's the one that just got the excruciatingly heartfelt present.

Usually, you’d have a witty comeback to Vox’s attempts at getting you to stroke his ego (always followed by an actual, genuine compliment to ease his insecurities hiding behind that ego), but you’re drawing a blank right now.

The gift is so thoughtful that you don’t even know where to start on expressing your gratitude. Noise-canceling headphones seem so obvious now, but this is Hell! Both you and Vox had died before this technology became commonplace, and not many people in Hell care that much about the noise. Vox made these headphones specifically for you. He doesn’t need them (he can quite literally just turn off his audio input) and he probably won’t make much of a profit with them as a VoxTek product. He’s a busy man, being a CEO and an Overlord, yet he took the time to make this for you himself, not even passing the project off to one of the poor souls that works for him.

“Babe?” Vox calls out gently, waving a hand in front of your face. Oh, shit—you’re overthinking your response so much that you forgot to actually fucking respond.

You blink a few times, meeting your boyfriend’s gaze. His brows are slightly furrowed, in what you think is a mix of concern and amusement. He’s a little worried he’s fucked up somehow, but he knows you well enough by now to recognize when you’re thinking too hard about something. He actually finds it quite adorable, at least when you’re not about to have a panic attack from it.

As he looks at you expectantly, you decide to just go with your gut (at least, that’s what you think you’re doing—you’ve never entirely understood what the fuck that phrase means).

You don’t give yourself time to second-guess your actions before you’re practically jumping into Vox’s lap—though it’s more like falling since you were just sitting on the desk. He lets out a little ‘oof’ of surprise before he chuckles and moves his hands to your waist, holding you steady while being careful of his claws. He smirks as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck, jostling the headphones a little but not enough to fuck with the noise cancellation.

“So…you like them, then?” Vox prompts, just wanting the confirmation even though the answer is already clear. You can tell by his tone that he’s still grinning proudly.

You just gently nod, inadvertently rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt (fortunately, Vox is a fancy bastard with high standards when it comes to clothing, and he’d long ago thrown out any garment made with fabric that triggered your sensory issues).

“Thank you,” you murmur against his neck.

His hands tighten ever so slightly around your waist, and his response is so soft you can barely hear it through the headphones. “Anything for you, doll.”

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox hazbin #the vees #autistic reader #gender neutral reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader

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genshin-obsessed · 11 months

Note

POCKY I HAVE A NEW IDEA 👀

With any of the boys you feel like writing for:

(Both star rail and genshin are fine! But if you could include Cyno and perhaps Gepard that would be lovely <3)

Reader who accidentally loses their engagement/wedding ring. Maybe they took it off to shower and it got lost or (if you want angst) they got into a serious accident/were kidnapped/etc. and it was lost in all the excitement. In any case reader feels terrible about it and is crying and apologizing to him and we get lots of comfort at the end hehe

✧ Ooh I chose to do both fandoms! This sounds super cute and fun! This was a lot more fun than I thought it would be! I hope you like it ✧ Includes: Cyno, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Blade. ✧ Extra: I think I’m starting to like my ooc Blade… also it's a bit lengthy!

✧ ─ GENSHIN IMPACT ─ ✧

» Cyno «

Cyno had actually had the ring custom made. It was one of your few cherished possessions. You looked at it multiple times a day. Any friend you met, you’d happily show them the ring to which they just chuckled. Newly engaged couples tended to do that.

You did your best not to take the ring off willy nilly. If there wasn’t a reason for it to come off then it didn’t need to come off. You also placed it in one place if you ever did take it off, in a jar on your nightstand.

You… weren’t sure what the hell happened but the ring kinda vanished. It was one minute and then it wasn’t. You knew you didn’t take it off. But it was gone.

At first, you were in denial. There was no way it just disappeared like that. But it wasn’t on your finger, so where was it?

You had practically destroyed your bedroom in search of that ring. The fact that it wasn’t on your finger was sending so much anxiety through you, it was bringing you to tears. You hadn’t even realized what ruckus you’d caused since you were too busy in your own head.

“(Y/n)!” A loud voice called, finally breaking you from your trance. You looked up to see Cyno standing there with wide, concern-filled eyes. “What happened? Did someone hurt you? Are you ok?”

When you saw him, you started crying even harder, feeling the guilt well up in your chest. You knew it was difficult for Cyno to have that ring made and you just went and lost it like an idiot! You covered your mouth, trying to muffle your sobs.

Cyno, on the other hand, was also panicking, wondering if his simple entrance had ruined your day. Of course that sounded ridiculous so he slowly approached you, grabbing your shoulders.

“Hey, hey, ok, just- just breathe, ok? I won’t understand anything and I can’t help if you keep crying like this.” It took you a good five minutes before you were able to calm down enough to explain what happened.

“I-I lost the ring.” You managed how, holding your hand up to show your finger with the ring missing. Cyno felt both relief and sadness. He was relieved that nothing serious had happened such as someone threatening you, hurting you, or someone you loved. But he was also sad that you lost the ring- mainly because of how much you were crying. He loved how much you loved the ring, but it was never worth this many tears.

Cyno sighed and took that same hand, placing a kiss on your now lonely ring finger. He leaned in and kissed your forehead too, giving you a hug.

“It’s just a ring, my darling. I know you loved it- and I’m happy- but I don’t want you to cry this much over it. It’ll be ok, we can find it. Or get a new one.” You immediately shook your head at his last offer.

“No, I want that one. I don’t want a new one.” You said, looking up at him. He smiled a little at your stubbornness.

“Ok, then let’s start looking.”

It took a little while- almost an hour- before you two were able to find the ring. Apparently, you had placed it in the drawer of his nightstand accidentally and didn’t think to check it because you don’t usually touch his things. You felt a little silly but you were over the moon to have your ring back.

» Alhaitham «

Alhaitham’s ring for you was nothing short of magnificent. Everyone noticed it without you saying anything as it was so eye-catching.

Because of this, you were extremely careful when going anywhere alone. The ring was no doubt expensive, and you didn’t want to take any chances.

The thing was… sometimes people just followed without you realizing. Normally, if you were Alhaitham, he’d notice almost immediately. You on your own, however, could not do that.

You hadn’t even realized it but there was a thug in front of you demanding you hand over anything of value to him.

You scrambled to give him all the money and jewelry you had, hoping he’d let you go free. Then his eyes fell on your beautiful, sparkling ring. You felt your heart sink as he pointed to it.

“That too- gimme that too!” He yelled, wanting to show you that he wasn’t scared or in the mood to waste time. You slowly shook your head, feeling the fear spreading further through your body and solidifying your legs to the ground.

“Please l-let me keep this, I gave you everything else.” You said, tears blurring your vision, forcing you to blink to get them out.

“No, no, I want that too. You either hand it over or I take it off your corpse.” He growled, glaring at you. Realizing that Alhaitham would be even more angry knowing you put yourself in harm’s way, you found what little courage you had and slid the ring off of your finger. Your hands were shaking and there was a vice grip on it because you didn’t want to lose it. But eventually… you let go. The thug took it and ran off, leaving you standing in the dark, crying.

It was almost ten minutes later when you found yourself having the energy to walk back when you saw an extremely worried Alhaitham racing towards you.

“(y/n)! Where have you been?! Do you know how worried I was?!” He yelled as he instantly engulfed you in his arms, squeezing you almost too tightly. You hugged back immediately, needing that comfort desperately.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to tell him that you’d given up the ring. Willingly. Kinda.

“Good,” Alhaitham said, making your eyes widen. “It’s better than your life. I could buy a thousand rings like that, but I only have one of you.” He said as he took your face, gently wiping your tears away. “You did the right thing, we’ll get you a new ring.”

His words did bring some level of comfort to you, but you still felt a little guilty for having lost such a beautiful ring.

“W-what if I want that one? And only that one.” You asked, sniffling a little. Alhaitham smiled, kissing your cheek.

“Then we’ll get that one back.”

As promised, Alhaitham didn’t rest until he caught the thud, making sure to retrieve all of your items- especially your ring. He also made sure he was the one who slid it onto your finger- again.

» Kaveh «

Kaveh’s ring was intricate and on the inside, had an engraving which translated how much he adored you and that he would forever. That ring was something you cherished so much. You showed him every single day how beautiful it looked. He just chuckled and nodded, always kissing your ring finger.

You tried to keep the ring on your finger 24/7, making sure it washed well with every hand wash. You didn’t like taking it off very often, always worrying it might just get lost.

If you did take it off, you actually kept it in sight. Placing it in the center of the counter and making sure it would just fall off or something.

One day, you’d had a particularly busy day and you were pretty exhausted. You’d remembered taking your ring off for a minute to wash up but when you came back… it was gone.

All that exhaustion was gone and suddenly, all you felt was panic and dread. Where did it go? Where did the ring go?! You looked everywhere you possibly could, trying not to think of the worst. But with every passing second you couldn’t find the ring, those thoughts invaded your mind and all you could see was a very angry Kaveh.

You began to tear the entire room apart, throwing things around as you started to search in every nook and cranny. Of course, you didn’t realize Kaveh was even in the room until he grabbed your shoulders, making you scream.

“It’s me! What are you doing?” He asked with a look of concern as he gestured to your shared bedroom. You paused and started looking around- it was a disaster. Everything was everywhere and it would take hours to clean up.

“I-I’m sorry…” you mumbled in a small voice, wiping your cheeks. Kaveh’s expression didn’t change but he took both of your wrists and slowly pulled you to the bed, stepping over all the clothes and items.

“Sit.” He said as he grabbed a water bottle from off the floor. He took off the cap and held it out to you. “Just take a second and tell me what’s wrong.” He said before he kneeled in front of you, rubbing your thigh a little to comfort you.

You sipped the water, taking a few deep breaths to calm down so you could actually explain what was going on. You could see just how worried he was- not to mention, you could see the slight redness and glossiness in his eyes. Kaveh hated it when you cried- if you cried hard enough, that pain transferred to him and sometimes… he’d tear up a little.

“I lost the ring.” You said as you showed him your left hand. “I-I just set it down and I don’t know where it went.” You sniffled feeling the tears come back, but Kaveh grabbed your hands and kissed your ring finger.

“It’s ok, love. We can find the ring if it’s in here. But there’s no reason for you to be this upset. It’s just a ring, I could get you another one.”

“No, I want that ring.”

“What if I got you a ring that looked exactly like it?”

“It’s not the same one. I want that one- not another one.” You said, frowning at him. Kaveh only chuckled and nodded, standing up and lifting your head to kiss your lips.

“Ok, then let's start looking.”

It took a grand total of two and half hours for you to clean up everything and finally find the ring. It had landed under the bed, right next to the leg hiding from view. You were so happy that it was back on your finger that you swore you’d never take it off no matter what. Kaveh just felt better knowing you were ok and happy again.

✯.⋅ HONKAI STAR RAIL ⋅.✯

» Gepard «

Your engagement ring was like your most prized possession. You looked at it every single day since Gepard had proposed and almost never took it off. Even after a month, it was still the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned.

You were still very careful with everything you did, treating it like glass at times. You even had little covers on the drains so it never fell down the drain. Your worst nightmare was the ring falling down the drain.

There were times you did take it off. Drying your hands was easy without the ring so when you washed your hands… you took it off.

You had ended up getting distracted and when you came back… it was gone.

Panic. Full fledged panic. You looked everywhere you possibly could for that little ring but it was just gone. You even went through the phase of looking at your own hands as if you could forget the feeling of the heavy gem on your hand.

At this point, you were in tears- absolutely distraught. That’s when Gepard walked into the room.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” He asked with a frown as he walked to you, seeing your state. He was extremely concerned as you were safe in your home so nothing could've happened. But he'd seen too many things to not start panicking a little himself.

“I-I lost it! I can’t find it- I looked everywhere!” You yelled, the tears just pouring down your cheeks. Your heart was beating out of your chest, especially now that Gepard was here. You weren't able to find your ring before he came home.

“Wait, ok, breathe.” He said as he took your shoulders and made you look at him. “Just breathe for a second. What did you lose?”

You took deep breaths but held up your left hand, showing the missing ring. Gepard frowned and now he understood what made you so upset.

“Ok, ok, don’t cry. We can find it. We’ll find it, so please don’t cry.” He said as he reached up and dried your tears. He knew the ring meant a lot to you but he didn’t realize how much. It was sweet… but he also hated it when you cried.

“It was s-so expensive! And I-I lost it!” You said as you looked around as if you'd just end up spotting it or something.

Gepard sighed and shook his head, making you look at him. His warm thumbs slid under your eye to catch the oncoming tears.

“So? Besides, we’ll find it so there’s no reason to cry this hard. Come on, we’ll look all day if we have to.” He said, kissing your forehead. You could feel the intense relief, knowing he wasn’t angry at you or disappointed in you. Now you just had to find the ring.

And you did. It had fallen and landed behind your desk. It was hard to see with how little room there was between the wall and desk.

» Blade «

You loved that ring. Honestly, even after a month or so, you still hadn’t gotten over how beautiful the ring was. You adored it.

When you took your engagement ring off, you had a special little box you put it in. You closed it and locked it every single time.

This particular time you were a bit busy and frazzled. You weren’t thinking and you just realized the ring wasn’t on your finger. So you went to your box to get it.

It was gone. Like it grew legs and walked off! Panic set in immediately because there’s no way you left it anywhere else.

“Ok, ok, just… breathe.” You told yourself as you took slow, deep breaths. They were so forced that it made you even more anxious.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to think where you could’ve left it. No location came to mind- only a very angry Blade. God, you were so irresponsible! That ring was so expensive and you lost it about a month after getting it!

So you began to tear apart your bedroom in a desperate attempt to find the ring. That’s when Blade walked in, but you were too busy to notice him. He looked around both confused and concerned.

“What the hell…?” His voice makes you yell as you turn around and his eyes widen a little at the sight of your tear-stricken face. “What happened? Are you ok?” He asked as he walked to you, stepping over the items thrown about.

“I-I lost it. I’m sorry! I’ll find it so don’t worry! I’ll look everywhere.”

“I’m sure we can just buy it again.” He said in his usual monotone as he began to wipe your tears with a tissue he grabbed from nearby. He had no idea what you were talking about at first, but if a missing item made you this upset, then he'd just get it for you again. Simple.

You just held your hand up to show the missing ring making him stare for a moment. Oh.

“Yeah, I can buy another one of those too.” You shook your head, sniffling.

“N-no, I don’t want a new one. I want that one.” No ring could possibly compare to that first one. You refused to give up. If someone stole it- highly unlikely- you’d find them and take it back. You were that desperate.

“Fine. We’ll find it then but you’re not gonna see anything with all those tears in your eyes.” He said as he dabbed your eyes again. He wrapped an arm around you, giving you a tight hug, rubbing your back. It upset him when you cried… so now he really had to find that ring.

You two eventually found it, you’d actually left it on the kitchen counter when you were going to cut the chicken, not wanting to get any on it. You didn’t put it away because it was only a few minutes that you’d be busy.

Somehow, the ring had fallen onto the ground and rolled under the counter. When Blade found it, he made sure to be the one to slip it back onto your fingers, asking if you felt better now that you had the ring back. You did. 100%.

» Jing Yuan «

The day Jing Yuan proposed to you was one of the happiest of your life. You flaunted that ring everywhere to the point where some of his friends were concerned you might get attacked for the ring. It was definitely expensive.

Removal of the ring was near impossible, you didn’t take it off for any reason. If you were doing something that might stain- you wore thick gloves. But taking that ring off never happened.

It was endearing for Jing Yuan. He’d often catch you just staring at it with that goofy smile on your face. And it brought him a world of joy. He was worried you wouldn’t like it.

But right now… you kinda wished you had been a bit more careful. You showed off your ring too much.

“A-and the ring! Gimme that ring!” The man said as he pointed his gun at you. You were willing to give over anything except that. You covered your ring with your hand and shook your head.

“N-no… no, I can’t give you my ring.” You said with a frown.

“I’ll kill you! Give it to me!” He threatened and you were terrified but you shook your head.

“Please don’t take it. You can take everything else just n-not my ring.” You said with the tears in your eyes. Your hands were shaking and your heart was pounding in your chest.

A yelp escaped your lips when the barrel of the gun touched your forehead. All you could do was stand there as he reached over and slid the beautiful ring off your finger and scoffed.

“Idiot.” With that, he ran off. You were frozen in fear, unable to move or breathe as if you were wondering if he’d return.

You heard yelling only a few moments later but it didn’t matter to you. You just stood there, feeling the anger and frustration in your heart. Why didn’t you do something else!? You just stood there!

“(Y/n)!” A voice called but you were too busy in your thoughts. “(Y/n)!” You only registered the voice when you felt your shoulders move. It was Jing Yuan. He looked both angry and terrified as he tried to bring you back from your shock. “It’s ok, it’s just me.” He said when he saw you flinch.

You wasted no time hugging him so tightly as you felt a pang of guilt. You lost the ring. You never listened and now the ring was gone. You could just cry as he held you, trying his best to give you a moment.

“H-he took it! He took m-my ring!” You said, barely able to breathe.

“Shh, it’s ok, it’s fine. I’ll get you another one.” He said as he felt his own heart break at your distress.

“N-no! No, I want that one!” You said as you looked up. He frowned as he took your face and wiped your tears.

“Ok, I’ll get you that one. I promise, just please don’t cry.” Jing Yuan wasn’t one to cry but if you were crying this badly, then his eyes do get a little teary as well. He feels your pain, no matter what kind. Once you were calm, he made sure to take you back home, assuring you his men were out looking.

Eventually, you two were met with good news. The mugger was arrested only an hour or so after the crime and all your belongings had been taken back by the knights. Including your beloved ring.

#genshin impact x reader #honkai star rail x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #🖊─ pocky’s writings

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fanaticsnail · 5 months

Note

I always am in awe and in love with your writing and wanted your thoughts on this. What do you think of the aloof Mihawk with an apprentice that he isn’t that close too. He still is protective, but doesn’t think much until he notices that the apprentice is getting weaker and assumes they are slacking. He tears into them about being lazy and goes to leave only to hear them collapse with the Hanahaki disease. 🫣

Hanahaki: The Hawk and the Fledgling

Hanahaki: a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

Masterlist here. Part 2 here.

Word Count: 1,466

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you, Anon. I hope I fulfilled your request well. I am very new to the concept, so I have drawn this up as a drabble rather than a fully-fledged fic.

Song Accompaniment: Luminary

“Pick up the pace, Fledgling,” Mihawk directed you, his drawl laced in boredom and indifference, “try to at least be better than you were yesterday. You’re growing slack or, dare I say, lazy.”

It had been this way for the past three years. You had initially sought out the mighty Dracule Mihawk, warlord and world’s greatest swordsman, to train you to become an expert in skilled swordcraft. Initially, he refused your request; shutting the door in your face as soon as you uttered a simple: “Lord Mihawk, I have come to humbly request-.”

His eyes bore an intensity, an aloofness and disinterest about them. The honey-colour irises within the darker rings indicated he was exactly the strength you needed to train under to become an expert in your field. As soon as your gaze was halted by the large wooden door, the large brass handle swinging to nearly hit you; you became resolved in not moving from your place atop his staircase until he was willing to take you in.

He made you wait seven days. Your body was overcome with exhaustion, dehydration and malnourishment when he finally stepped aside to welcome you within his darkened and gloomy halls to await further instruction.

Your training began by vigorous routine: waking, eating, training, sleeping – all with the broody swordsman lording over you; criticising every aspect of your routine. Your apprenticeship was joined alongside the demon and bounty hunter: Roronoa Zoro. He was an amazing peer; his strength and agility was akin to your own, alongside his mantra to become stronger than the person he was yesterday. Mihawk paid you and Zoro the same amount of attention, his ward: Perona, also offering you guidance and comradery with her unwavering support.

“You slept in, Fledgling,” the warlord would utter, flicking the back of his newspaper to straighten the pages. He did not look up to acknowledge your presence in the slightest, opting to raise a glass of red wine to his lips instead.

“No protein with your breakfast? You’ll never achieve your goals by living on simply bread – I don’t care if Perona informs you otherwise,” he would utter, brushing past you to reach high up on the kitchen shelf and thrusting the jar into your hands, “at least balance it out with almonds or pumpkin seeds, Fledgling.”

“Sloppy,” he would comment, gesturing to a particular maneuver you were working with against your peer, Roronoa Zoro, “pick your feet up, Fledgling. Rabbit, aim for their calves to make them move.”

Each jab, taunt and criticism had your resolve to train harder and stronger more cemented within your chest: a chest that became weighed down with a feeling of suffocating tightness. The brush of a correcting hand, the whisper of his shoulder on his way past you, the feeling of his guidance on your lower back throughout the halls had your heart bound within vines.

Fighting the feeling with furrowed brows and clenched jaws, you pinned it as anxiety under the hard traineeship you sought with this undertaking with the swordsman. You thought you had trained yourself too hard: coughing uncontrollably, clutching your chest to relieve you of the tight feeling that followed with a spatter of blood falling from your parted lips into your palm. A trickle of saliva connected your lips to the pool within the creases of your hand: a small petal white and pure going unnoticed within your outstretched palm.

You strengthened your resolve, opting to train harder to break yourself from the weakness you were experiencing. You chose not to inform neither Perona, Zoro nor your boss Dracule Mihawk of the overexertion you were sure you were suffering.

Battling with Zoro became harder and more difficult with the amount of exhaustion you found yourself overcome with. The feeling never ceased, and appeared to be becoming worse the more your eyes met with the disapproving gaze of your mentor. Mihawk would shake his head and look away from your stance in disappointment, opting to praise Zoro for his ability to take down someone akin to you.

It was not until you felt the feeling overcome your chest completely that you collapsed under the pressure of your heart. The feeling of overexertion was too much. The passion was too much. The love?

Love.

You were in love.

You were in love with Dracule Mihawk.

A man you knew you could never have.

His gentle touches: firm enough to guide you, soft enough for it to be a suggestion rather than an order. The way his eyes would linger, unblinking and harsh. There was no softness, only correction and disinterest. He was not interested in you, not in the slightest - that was a fact you were certain of. A man of his stature had no awareness, desire, or need for something as simple as romance or love.

Collapsing within the vineyard, drawing your hand up to your mouth and coughing under the uncomfortable weight within your heart; your eyes rose to the feathered hat atop the warlord in front of you, wide and frantic.

“Lazy again, Fledgling?” he uttered, turning to face you along the clay row of the cascading vines, “and here I thought-.”

His words were cut short, his eyes widening at your form and brows immediately rising. Hunching your back over, you hung your head as a fit of uncontrollable coughs overcame your body in a fit of wheezed breaths. The vocal chords within your throat stung within the chasms of your oesophagus, a trail of white petals once again falling to your palm under your coughs. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes at the pain you were experiencing, looking in horror towards your mentor.

“What is-,” he began, turning in his sprint to join you at your side, “-what is wrong with you?”

Drawing his right arm to collect your shoulders, he embraced you against his chest as you continued to struggle to gulp down breaths of air to fill your lungs. Utilizing his left hand, he withdrew your hand from your lips and stared his amber eyes down to your palm.

“Hanahaki,” he whispered in a low growl. His teeth clenched tight against each other at the thought of the disease overtaking your form. His honey-coloured gaze scanned over your body, staring at the risen veins like vines rising in a trail from your heart to your clavicle as his breath hitched in a light hiss.

Releasing your hand from his left, he laced his left arm beneath your body and thrust himself upwards to cradle you against himself. His embrace was strong, his support of your respiratory system within his arms relieved some of the tension falling from your heart in waves of caged interwoven vines.

Blurred sentences falling from his lips, your ears nor eyes are able to focus on a single word uttered.

“-How long-.”

“-When did-.”

"-Fledgling-."

“-You didn’t say-.”

“Let’s-... -a doctor.”

You felt your body be placed onto a firm, wooden surface. Your chest felt weighed down by the amount of earthy and binding roots you felt entrapped by. Your jaw ached with how hard you had clasped your teeth shut to halt the release of more petals. Pure, white and teasing was the nature of the flowers falling from between your parted mouth. The ache never ceased within your chest the longer your mentor remained with you.

Your dizzying mind only regained focus at the next utterances falling from the lips of your mentor.

“I will send for the green-haired rabbit. Perhaps I can persuade him of the charm you hold and convince him to fall for you,” he took a long breath inwards and uttered in a tone just above a whisper, “if you can convince someone as hardened as I am wordlessly to harbor affection for you, the brat should have no such trouble.”

He exited the room, the wooden door to the kitchen swinging behind him in a slow, creaked ‘click’ as it met its handle against the brass latch. Immediately, you felt your heart began to release the tension folded around the organ. Although your mouth was dry, the flavour of metallic blood lingering in a cocktail against the floral texture of something akin to jasmine flowers, your body was relieved of the tension for the first time in three years.

No longer hardened by what you assumed to be mild anxiety, you knew you would be able to train harder still to achieve both yours and Dracule Mihawk’s impossibly high standards of yourself. Discovering what harbouring the affections of a warlord of the seas truly meant while training was something that filled your once constricted heart with a soaring freedom you yearned for.

You would have much to discuss upon his return, especially with a green-haired apprentice in tow.

#one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #opla mihawk x reader

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morallyinept · 5 days

Text

Veneration - A Frankie Morales x Deaf F!Reader One Shot

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Living in a world with no sound, you meet an incredible man who is able to communicate with you on a deeper level, transcending spoken words.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Deaf F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity, Reader does have hair. Reader is deaf and only has one functional ear.)

Word Count: 6.6k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here

Triggers & Warnings: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M & F receiving/fingering/Reader is deaf and only has one functional ear/mentions of scars/alcohol consumption/burly men fighting in a ring for sport.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. The condition/disability mentioned in this story is not 'one size fits all' - everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

The sultry night air of the Floridian dusk hangs swampy over the bustling streets, thick with the scent of saltwater and sunscreen as you and your rag-tag bunch of friends amble your way towards the local arena.

The palm-fringed boulevards are slowly dyed in pastel pinks and golden hues from the setting sun as you navigate through the gritty streets and wayward bodies, their conversations echoing off the walls around you like shards of shattered glass.

Each fragment carries a piece of the shrapnel cacophony that threatens to pierce through the fragile barrier of your senses. The discordant strains of country music from a nearby honky-tonk drifts through the crackled air as you pass, their twangy melodies a familiar backdrop to the rhythm of everyday life in Fort Walton Beach.

You catch jarred snippets of conversation as you struggle to keep pace, the incessant buzzing in your ear like a droning hornet where your aid is kicking up a stink; the constant hum of static and feedback grates on your nerves like sandpaper rubbed furiously against your ear canal.

It’s been doing this for a while and you really should get a new one, chastising yourself for your put off till tomorrow mantra. The aid emits a disconcerting array of noises as it’s been slowly malfunctioning, enduring weeks of pitchy screeches and low humming din.

It started with a subtle crackling, like the static of a radio searching for a signal between undecided stations. Then accompanied by intermittent bursts of high-pitched metallic screams, akin to feedback from a microphone placed too close to a speaker.

Occasionally, you’ll hear distorted fuzzes of conversation or ambient sounds either unbearably loud, or warped and muffled as if heard underwater. These fragmented noises only add to your frustration, teasing you with glimpses of the auditory world that lies just beyond your reach without your trusty hearing aid.

As the malfunction worsens, the noises grow more erratic and pronounced, escalating into a chaotic riot of glitches and distortions. It’s as if your hearing aid is rebelling like a stroppy teenager and plunging you into a whirlwind of loud and jarring sounds that make you physically jump.

You wince as the noise grows louder, accompanied by unpredictable bursts of high-pitched squeals that bore into your skull down to the frayed nerves of your teeth.

"Is everything okay?" One of your friends asks, concern evident in their hazy voice as they throw you a glance over their shoulder.

Or at least you assume that’s what they say, on the account of the incessant squealing going on inside your only ear canal.

You force a smile, trying to push aside the discomfort. "Just a little pitchy," you reply, using your hands to convey the words as you sound them out, barely able to hear your voice and hoping to downplay the severity of the situation.

But if anything you’re expecting it to get worse, especially in the arena. The prospect of navigating the crowds in there with your errant device fills you with frenetic dread.

You would’ve preferred to have been sequestered away this evening, curled around a book and a nice glass of wine, slobbing it out in comfy sweats. Instead your friends have rail-roaded you into an impromptu night out, snatching up tickets to an MMA fight. Something you have no interest in whatsoever.

However the constant peer pressure in the group chat had forced you - seemingly at gunpoint - to embark on this manic adventure into uncharted territory of brawny muscle and sweat.

It's going to be so much fun! They’d exclaimed, their eyes shining with anticipation, and you feigned an enthused nod back when they’d picked you up.

They’re not bad people, you love that they want to include you so much, even if it can be mildly suffocating at times. But occasionally, your friends can make assumptions about your abilities that leave you feeling frustrated and misunderstood.

Born with only one functional ear, you’ve never known the stereo sound that most people take for granted. Instead, you navigate the world with one - the other not formed in the womb and blessing you with a little fleshy nubbin in place of a full ear, that your mom still to this day calls cute, even though you’re a fully grown ass woman - and relying on your other senses to fill the void left by your deafness.

Why don't you just turn up your hearing aid? They’ll ask, not realising that your device can't "fix" your deafness entirely, or that it often struggles to filter out loud background noise. There’s no happy medium - you either hear far too much or not enough with it.

You strain to follow their conversations amidst the cacophony of voices and background sounds bleeding in at the best of times. But despite your efforts, you’re often struggling to keep up, and it creates a sense of frustration building inside you.

Your friends can often forget to speak clearly, or to face you directly when speaking, making it difficult for you to follow along if you can't lip read. And though you know that your scatterbrain chums love you dearly, there are moments when their lack of awareness about accessibility leaves you feeling isolated and unseen.

Despite these challenges, you cherish your friendships deeply. You know that their intentions are always rooted in love and kindness, even if they sometimes fall short of understanding the unique experiences and needs associated with your deafness.

And venues with loud noises are probably the worst places they drag you to.

You know all too well the challenges that await you in environments like nightclubs - throbbing music, flashing lights, and crowded dance floors - all of which threaten to overload your already strained senses. More often than not, you go along anyway despite your reservations, not wanting to dampen their spirits or, more importantly, feel left out.

But moments like those are a stark reminder of the invisible barriers you face as someone living with hearing loss. Trying to steer the world around you, there are times when the overwhelming sensory input threatens to engulf you entirely, leaving you feeling alone in a crowd of well-meaning friends.

Your journey with hearing loss hasn't just impacted your friendships - it’s also left its mark on your romantic encounters. Over the years, you’ve experienced your fair share of heartaches as you've traversed the complexities of love and intimacy. Encountered many partners who struggled to understand the daily realities of living with hearing loss. Some were well-meaning but clueless, their attempts at communication often falling flat as they failed to grasp the nuances of your unique experiences.

Others were less understanding, their impatience and frustration bubbling to the surface whenever you struggled to hear or communicate effectively. And you’d endured countless arguments and misunderstandings, your self-esteem taking a hit with each passing day as you wondered if you’d ever find someone who truly accepted you for who you are.

But despite the setbacks and disappointments, you refuse to give up hope. The right person will come along. At some point.

As you reach the entrance to the moderately local and small arena, your patience reaches its breaking point as a loud, shrill screech rips through your ear making you audibly grumble.

Crowds of enthusiastic spectators, dressed in an array of attire, ranging from casual jeans to flashy sequined dresses, stream towards the entrance, their excitement palpable in the air. Inside, the atmosphere crackles with anticipation and mingles with the faint scent of sweat and spilled beer.

The walls are adorned with posters advertising past events, their colours faded with age, but their messages still bold and enticing. The floor is scuffed and worn from years of use and mildly sticky under the soles of your sneakers.

At the centre of it all stands the ring, bathed in a chalky spotlight that illuminates the weathered canvas like a stage awaiting its performers. Despite its moderate size, the arena is filled to the brim with eager fight fans, their voices rising in anticipation as they await the evening's main grapple event.

Your friends scatter, some heading for the bar, others pulling you with them further into the crowd as it grows. As the arena lights dim, casting shadows across the sea of faces around you, two fighters emerge from opposite corners of the ring, their presence commanding attention.

And it’s at this moment your aid decides to completely flip out as you clutch your head in searing pain.

With little choice and a swift motion, you reach in and pluck the offending device from your ear, relief flooding through you as the noise abruptly ceases. In the absence of the chaotic glitches and distortions, your ear strains to detect even the faintest whisper of sound.

The world around you seems to lose its shape and form, dissolving into a hazy blur of muted colours and indistinct shapes. The perpetual silence that now greets you is jarring and disorienting, encountering a profound emptiness, a void where once there had been a relentless assault on your senses, now reduced to a fuzzed quiet.

Despite the presence of people milling about around you, you suddenly feel utterly alone, trapped in a silent prison of your own making.

With each passing moment, your perception of the world shifts, shrinking away from you almost, your other senses recalibrating to the newfound peace that envelops you.

Your friend nudges you and points to the ring, mouthing words at you that you can’t read from their lips in the dark shadows, or hear. So you shrug and point to your broken aid in your fingers, and they pout sympathetically at you, turning their gaze back to the ring, leaving you somewhat bereft.

With little else to do, you watch the fight full of disdain. The first fighter, a towering figure with muscles rippling beneath his skin, exudes confidence with every step.

His jaw is set in determination, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on his opponent and honey hair slicked back. Your friend nudges you again, silently giggling and you assume it’s because she thinks he’s attractive and you roll your eyes with a lazy smirk.

With lightning-fast reflexes, the fighter launches himself forward, unleashing a flurry of punches aimed at his opponent's defences. His fists move like pistons, each strike packed with raw power and precision and it makes you wince.

The atmosphere reaches a fever pitch, the crowd erupting into silent cheers and applause around you with each punch exchanged between the combatants.

You find yourself swept up in the spectacle, eyes fixed on the action unfolding before you and imagining how bad those punches must sound. You can feel the energy of the crowd pulsating through you, a primal rhythm that resonates on a visceral level as you glance about at focused faces pulled back into enthusiastic snarls and fists pumping the air.

You reach for your purse slung across your shoulder, intending to stow the broken hearing aid away until you can have it replaced.

But just as you’re about to tuck it safely inside, a sudden jolt sends you stumbling forward, your fingers losing their grip on the fragile device.

Time seems to slow as you watch in horror as the hearing aid slips from your grasp, tumbling down into a dark sea of denim clad legs.

No!

Desperately, you reach out to grab the falling device, but it’s too late. Your hearing aid lands on the hard floor, disappearing amidst the crowd of stamping spectators.

Heart pounding, you push your way through, frantically searching for any sign of it. But amidst the chaos and darkness of the arena, it’s impossible to spot.

You turn to get your friends' attention but they're not there, realising you’ve been swept further into the crowd and closer to the ring as it surges. You can’t spot their faces so obviously and it starts to panic you.

Fighting your way through towards a gap, you feel a soft tap on your shoulder and turn abruptly to see a man standing before you.

He’s holding out the broken aid in what seems to be a gigantic palm, with a sympathetic expression.

The silence suddenly becomes deafening, save for the gentle thudding felt in your chest.

With rugged tan features softened by a warm smile, his face is lined with bronzed skin and a dusting of stubble across his jawline that’s greying in patches.

A well-groomed moustache adorns his upper lip. Beneath a worn, navy baseball cap, tufts of brown curls peek out, framing his face in a halo of unruly waves.

His eyes, a piercing dark brown, sparkle with a hint of mischief behind the steely gaze.

With a mixture of relief and trepidation, you accept the aid, your fingers trembling as you inspect the damage. The casing is cracked, the delicate components exposed to the harsh arena lights as they strobe.

Before you can try to communicate your thanks, the man’s hands move with a fluid grace as he offers his assistance.

“Are you okay?” He signs to you, his eyes full of concern.

You raise your eyebrows back with a stunned look. With a shaky smile and nodding, you sign back, “thank you.”

The man's eyes remain fixed on you as you finally tuck the aid into your purse for safekeeping and then sigh in defeat, noting his expression is one of genuine concern.

He signs again, his hands moving with confidence through the air. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

You keep his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "I don't think so." You sign back, your hands moving hesitantly as you try to convey your frustration. "It's broken."

"I'm sorry it got damaged." He signs.

Despite your immense disappointment, you can't help but feel a sense of warmth towards the stranger who’s come to your assistance.

"Thank you for finding it, I really appreciate it," you sign, your hands moving with more confidence.

A smile tugs at the corners of the man's lips as he signs back. "Of course. I'm glad I could." His eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief as he adds, "can I buy you a drink to make up for the disappointment at least?"

Your heart skips a beat at the unexpected offer. You hesitate for a moment, throwing a glance over your shoulder for one last look for your friends, before nodding, a shy smile playing at your lips.

"Sure. I'd like that," your hands betray your nervousness as they dance through the air.

He leads you through the crowd, throwing a smile back over his shoulder as you follow him to the bar.

“Do you drink beer?” He asks with his fingers shaping into words.

“A beer would be great.” You nod.

You watch as he leans in over the bar to the tender and fishes his wallet out from his back pocket. Your eyes take to wandering over his broad frame swathed in a mustard corded jacket and long legs in scuffed denim. He offers you a red plastic cup and you thank him.

“Are you deaf, too?” You tentatively ask him.

He shakes his head and his expression softens as he responds, “I learned ASL in the military.”

“Oh, the army?”

“Yeah. Or I was. Retired now.”

You smile. “Were you based at Eglin?”

“Yeah, sometimes. More away than at home though.” He nods over to the ring as the two guys are still going at it and signs some more. "Are you enjoying the fight?"

“My friends dragged me out. It’s not really my thing.” You sign with a crooked chuckle.

He nods, smiling. “Yeah, me either. My friend is in the fight. The one in blue. His brother coaches him, we were all in the army together. Show of camaraderie, I guess. I dunno, I’ve seen enough violence.” He shrugs and then sips his beer.

His eyes dart towards the ring and then back at you where he smiles again. You can feel yourself warming all over, captivated by the man before you, drawn to the quiet strength and undeniable charisma that seems to emanate from every fibre of his being.

He exudes an effortless coolness that belies his military background, while his easy demeanour suggests a man comfortable in his own skin.

But it’s his smile that truly sets him apart, a crooked grin that lights up his face as you both peep and gaze curiously at one another. There's a sincerity to his expression that draws you in, a sense of kindness around a prominent hooked nose, and compassion that transcends the rugged exterior.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, my name’s Francisco.” He signs.

“Nice to meet you.” You introduce yourself back and he smiles at your name.

“My friends call me Frankie. Or Catfish.” He spells out with thick fingers.

“Catfish? Do I even want to know?” You query.

“Callsign, mostly.” He smirks with glittery eyes. “Do you have anyone that can fix your aid?”

You shrug. “I’ve been meaning to get a new one. Might finally force me to now.”

He nods as he sups at his beer, wet pink lips shining at you as he licks foam from them.

Your breath catches in your throat, coming in shallow gasps as you struggle to compose yourself in the presence of this captivating man who won’t stop looking at you.

“Will your friends be missing you?” You enquire, swallowing through a dry throat no matter how much cool beer you gulp down.

He shakes his head, reaching an arm up to scratch idly at the back of it as he repositions his cap.

“No. Too busy with Benny.” He nods over to the ring. “Will yours be missing you?”

“Probably not.” you sign dismally, aware that you can see them now in the crowd and they're all enthralled in the fight, completely unaware you’re missing.

“Good. Then we can have another drink together.” Frankie signs smiling, and you nod eagerly, feeling dizzy with tingly anticipation.

As the fights unfold in the ring, you and Frankie find yourselves drawn together for most of the night at the bar, engaged in silent conversation and signing with an ease that colours your recent acquaintance vividly.

With each swift and confident exchange, you delve deeper into your experience of navigating a world you can’t hear most of the time.

You learn that Frankie is completely fluent in American Sign Language, due to his time in a division in the army he calls Delta Force, explaining it was crucial for missions where he had to be completely silent, while Frankie discovers that you’ve been deaf since birth.

You talk about music and favourite bands, leaning into the commonality of being Fleetwood Mac aficionados. You both love dogs and loathe cats, and he doesn’t have children, but has a nephew he adores like his own, and shows you a goofy picture of the two of them pulling faces as his phone lock screen.

Despite the intensity of the fight unfolding before you, you’re both immersed in your own shared bubble, the fluid movements of your hands and smiles a stark contrast to the roar of the crowd around you both.

And you find that neither of you can stop smiling at one another. When Frankie smiles at you, it's like a burst of warmth illuminating the dimly lit arena like a solar flare. His eyes, alight with genuine kindness, crinkle at the corners into layered crow’s feet as his lips curve into a gentle, yet enticing arc.

And you feel a connection blooming between you as you discover common ground, unlike any you’ve experienced before. He makes you laugh, you feel it from the depths of your belly as it vibrates at the back of your throat.

He winks as he smirks at you, his dark chocolaty eyes linger on yours over the rim of his red plastic cup, that seems so tiny in his giant hands. He’s felt gently on your lower back, palm guiding you in closer to him to avoid getting knocked into by over-zealous patrons, and he smells so amazing up close.

The enticing scent of cloves and leather, like stepping into a well worn, yet loved jacket. Something spicy lingers under it, tickling your nose with its warm sweetness.

Your friends eventually find you at the bar as the lights come up a little later, and one realises you haven't got your aid in when you sign to greet them.

“Are you ready to leave?” They sign back to you and you turn towards Frankie hesitantly to say your farewell.

“Actually, if you want, we could go get a bite to eat? I could drop you home later?” He suggests to you with adept hands, much to your friends’ surprise as they observe the both of you communicating in ASL quickly and confidently.

Smiling, and wanting nothing more than to spend more time with him too, you nod at him before turning to your friends.

“I’m gonna stay with Frankie for a bit. You guys go on ahead. Talk to you later.” You sign to them.

“Get it, girl.” One of them mouths and you smirk, hoping he doesn’t lip read too.

Together, you both decide to head to a nearby burger joint, drawn in by the promise of hearty comfort food and casual ambiance.

And Frankie reaches for your hand, entwining your fingers in his through the crowds as the arena empties, and doesn’t actually let go until you’re sliding into the booth opposite him in the diner.

Your pulse quickens beneath your skin, thrumming in time with the rapid beat of your heart as you find yourself drawn inexorably closer to the explicitly gorgeous man before you.

Finding a cosy setting near the window, you both settle in, your silent conversation flowing effortlessly as you peruse the menu; the scent of sizzling beef and toasted buns wafting through the air.

Your mouth waters at the thought of sinking your teeth into a juicy burger piled high with all the fixings, while Frankie's eyes light up at the prospect of indulging in some chilli cheese fries on the side to share.

As Frankie places the order with the waitress, you find yourself feeling more relaxed and at ease than you have in a long time. There's something comforting about the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with a new friend, the warmth of your connection filling the air alongside the aroma of freshly cooked cow.

His easy laughter and genuine warmth, coupled with the ability to engage with you confidently in ASL, makes him seem like the perfect companion, someone who understands you in a way that few others do.

He’s insanely attractive too, older and wiser, the grey in his beard indicating he might be in his mid-forties, a small swell of his tummy overhangs his jeans straining against the grey t-shirt underneath, as he sits back in the booth regarding you with a smile as you sign and share jokes. And he's so broad that it makes your insides clench each time your eyes skim over his shoulders.

But then you can't help but feel a flicker of self-consciousness creep in when he gently asks about your ear. A little nubbin of stumped skin revealed as you brush your hair past it, realising that you’ve forgotten all about it - so caught up in the connection you share that it no longer seems to matter.

But it's a part of yourself that you’ve spent years trying to hide, tucking it away beneath the layers of your hair like a secret you’re ashamed to reveal.

You brace yourself for his reaction, half-expecting a look of pity or discomfort to cross his face. But instead, you’re met with a warm smile and a gentle touch as he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair away.

Frankie signs with a tender reassurance. "You don't have to hide it from me. I think you’re beautiful."

You smile, feeling incredibly heated as you reach for your drink.

"You know," he signs, "I used to be a little self-conscious about something too."

Curiosity flickers in your eyes as you watch him sign. "Really?" You respond.

"Yeah. I was serving in the army," he begins, his gaze somewhat distant as he recalls the memories. "There was an explosion. I was lucky to survive, but I was pretty messed up. Ended up with horrific scarring from the burns. Had to have a skin graft.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the gravity of his words. You can't imagine the horrors he must have endured, the pain and suffering etched into every line of his tired, yet striking, face.

And yet, there's a strength and resilience in Frankie that you find utterly captivating - a bravery that shines through in the way he holds himself, despite the scars he carries, even if they’re not outwardly obvious.

"You're a hero," you sign, your hands trembling slightly with emotion. "Thank you for your service, soldier."

“Actually, it’s captain.” He simply salutes at you, fingers brushing the rim of his cap with a buoyant smirk and then a little wink as the waitress puts down your plates in front of you both.

“Captain Catfish.” You salute back, chuckling.

You watch Frankie take a big bite of his burger, and your laughter suddenly bubbles up from deep within your chest. It's not his charming smile or his witty banter that elicits this sudden burst of amusement - it's the way he eats his pickle.

With a playful twinkle in his eye, Frankie takes a dramatic bite of the pickle, exaggerating the crunch with an over-the-top flourish. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he chews, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

You can't help but laugh at the sight, your heart swelling with affection for this man who seems to delight in the simple pleasures of life. In that moment, watching him enjoy his pickle with such gusto, you feel yourself falling hard for him already.

“What?” He mouths with a curious grin.

“I can’t stand pickles.” You wrinkle your nose after sticking your tongue out in mock disgust, as he wipes his furry lips with a napkin.

“Oh, shit…” he signs. You watch his smile dip and you query as to what’s wrong with that statement.

“Well,” Frankie signs with deeply intense eyes, “if I taste of pickles, it means you won’t enjoy it when I kiss you.”

You baulk. “You… want to kiss me?”

He nods with a gleam. “I mean, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you.”

You put your half-eaten burger down on your plate, completely stunned and feeling even more hot. Suddenly stifling inside the diner.

His casual declaration sends a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins, mingled with a hint of nervousness that quickens your breath and sets your pulse racing again.

There's a magnetic pull between you, a chemistry that you can't ignore. You can't shun the way your skin prickles, all the way down your spine, how you’re squeezing your thighs together under the table so much that it throbs and feels delicious at the thought of him in between them.

You can’t deny that you haven't thought about kissing him yourself all night as your eyes drop to his lips as he licks them free of salt and ketchup.

You want to know what he’ll taste like, how that moustache will feel against your lips, how his scruff will feel between your thighs.

How gentle he’ll kiss you, how hard he’ll fuck you…

You sense he’s thinking the same thing because Frankie plops his burger down on his plate too and suggests getting out of here, to which you’re only too eager to agree.

And outside, Frankie makes good on his word about kissing you as he pulls you back gently by the elbow, cups your face in his giant hands and presses his lips to yours.

The taste of each other is a sweet and heady blend of anticipation and desire. You taste the faint remnants of the burgers, mixed with the tang of Frankie's salty breath from the pickle, and the subtle hint of his cologne.

It's a delicious concoction that fills your senses, leaving you craving more and melding yourself to him with every passing moment.

Frankie's gentle touch traces patterns along your spine, the warmth of his skin pressing against you as he envelops you closer to him; his wet and explorative tongue circling around your own and your toes buzzing as you stand on tiptoes to reach him.

Pulling away, and smirking, he signs if you want to go back to his place or to yours. You suggest yours, more for your own comfort and he agrees, taking your hand and leading you back to his Pickup.

Once inside your home, it’s a frantic tug of removing clothes in between hot, wet kisses and tangles of trembling limbs. Your hands trail over his smooth, bronzed skin, card through his curls after knocking his cap off, and his own hands squeeze your hips and ass greedily.

“You okay? Is this too fast?” Frankie signs, eyes dilated and lips plushly swollen from bruising kisses.

You shake your head and signal that you want to continue. That you want him here. That you just want him inside of you.

You barely make it up the stairs, stopping as you both fumble and tug at clothes and grope hot flesh. Crashing on the bed, you watch breathlessly as he pulls your jeans and panties off, kissing up the insides of your thighs.

Propped up in the pillows, you watch him keenly between your legs as he slowly makes out with your skin.

Kissing and mouthing over your thighs as he pushes them up and apart, opening you up for him. Running his nose around and inhaling over your mound as his eyes flick up to you, dark and chasm-like as he smirks insidiously.

Frankie looks up at you as his tongue glides slowly through your folds, big brown eyes glazed darkly as your fingers twist inside his messy curls. Adept wet tongue rolling softly, but purposefully, over the throbbing nub of your clit, and you gasp as your legs shake on his broad shoulders, a jolt of electricity speeding through them.

“You taste so good,” he signs with his fingers quickly before nuzzling his nose against your pussy again.

His grip around your thighs tighten as he delves deeper, tongue dipping into your hole and sliding all the way up to your clit.

You sigh out, head lolling back as your body shudders. He sucks intensely, lips vacuumed around it as you can feel his tongue gliding back and forth over it in his mouth.

You pull tighter on his hair, panting and feeling the coil tighten and pull inside your core.

He looks up at you again as his middle finger slides into you with ease, you’re soaked. He nods at you with a raised brow and mouths “good?” around shiny lips.

You nod with a breathy smile and gasp as he slides in another, using his fingers to pry you open so he can stroke and fuck whilst he licks and sucks.

You moan out as he pumps and licks at your pussy, bringing you to a giddy and twinkly orgasm as you shake and buck, pulling tighter on his curls. Your thighs thrum around his head, and he watches you whilst latched to your cunt, spilling warm slick into his mouth.

You tug his chin towards you, soft scruff soaked, devouring his mouth with yours as you whine and taste yourself around his lips.

You reach for his belt before he pulls away, leaving you chasing the ghost of his kiss as he stands.

Shucking his jeans off your eyes fall onto the large cluster of scars that adorn the left side of his hip, thigh and lower leg. Puckered white slashes that mar his tanned flesh, and he smiles softly at you as you reach out to stroke over them.

Faded, craggy lines in his skin as he strokes through your hair and his thumb brushes back and forth against your little nubbin for an ear.

"Beautiful," he mouths at you with soft eyes as the feel of it makes your skin tingle.

Glancing up at him, he’s biting his lip; eyes dark like oil as he guides your hand across his hip to the thick cock tenting in his boxers.

He’s so hard as you stroke and squeeze gently, a dark patch soiling his boxers where he’s leaking arousal into them.

Frankie submits as you pull him down onto the bed and crawl over him, kissing over his chest into the soft swell of his stomach. Mouthing and stroking explorative digits over his golden skin.

Flat and spread with his neck craning up to watch you reveal him - a swollen, tanned cock with a pink, dripping head. Lips curling back over incisors as he watches you lick over the swollen tip of him and you groan in delight at his taste.

You can see him gasping, lips parted in a small ‘o’ as he breathes, watching you suck him down.

You wish so much that you could have your aid in right now to hear the noises he’s making. You can see him, head back on the pillow, mouth open and eyes closed in bliss as his cock fills your mouth whilst you suck and lick all around it.

You feel his fingers snake in your hair until he pulls you upright and kisses you, tongues knotted together again.

“Fuck me, Frankie.” You sign quickly with abject need.

Rolling with you, he lines up, guiding himself into you with a gentle shunt forward of his hips and you gasp.

“Too much?” He mouths at you and you instantly shake your head and grip his ass, pulling him into you.

“So good,” you mouth back to him and he smiles.

Your hands frame his hips, feeling the change in skin texture from his scars. Feeling them work as he drives in deep, curls tickling your nose as his forehead rests on yours, breath pelting your face.

You look down between you to see his cock continually disappearing inside you and he feels so good as he bottoms out inside you, not quite believing this is actually happening.

Until it happens.

A wave crashing into you, warm and tingling as your body arches into him, your grip becoming tighter and your back sweating as you shake and tense before uncoiling. Letting go as your orgasm takes you and flings you up into the ether.

You feel him press a kiss to your temple, his scruff silken against your cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and grip harder on his ass as you pant and see stars behind your eyes.

He flattens his palms on the bed and works faster, hitting that spot inside you that makes you cry out louder.

Frankie slows down to kiss you, grinding his hips so your clit brushes against that soft thatch of hairs at the base of him. He can’t stop kissing you as he gently thrusts, lips gliding over your mouth, your cheeks, your throat. His patchy beard brushing against your ear, your eyelashes… he’s everywhere.

You cling onto him, hands splayed and fingers digging into broad, toned flesh as you build. He smiles as you squirm, blissed brown peepers and a crooked grin flashing at you as your breathing and gasping intensifies.

Cock bringing you to the edge once more and he watches the moment you leap off and fly. He mouths the word “beautiful” again at you before you clutch his face, shaking and kissing him desperately.

You nod at him as you watch him strain, and the tension in his neck and shoulders tightens. You mouth the word “come” and his mouth opens, baring teeth as his lips curl back.

Frankie looks incredible when he comes, biting down on those flush lips, veins in his neck bulging. His grip on you becomes tighter, his hips fucking you more frantic as his mouth slacks and his eyes roll back.

You see him utter the word “fuck” and it sends shockwaves to your core. "Inside?"

You nod frantically wanting him to fill you up.

He pulls out slightly and grabs a hold of his cock as it pumps inside you, pulling out so just the tip stays inside, flooding you. Watching in awe as it drips around your hole and uses his fingers to scoop it up and push it back inside as he leans over you for a kiss.

Flopping down beside you, you ask him if he wants to stay, and he nods with flushed cheeks and pulls you into his broad arms as he crushes you to him.

“You better not hog the duvet,” you sign to him, and you feel his chest rumble under you as he laughs.

Splayed, untamed curls stick out in all directions and he’s never looked so good, and you wonder how these events have transpired over the course of the last few hours where you’re tucked up in his arms, still twitching from an intense slew of orgasms.

"I really like you," he signs with a sleepy smile.

"I really like you too." You sign back.

You lay there, noses nuzzling as Frankie’s fingers stroke across your navel until you finally succumb to sleep.

As the soft morning light filters through the curtains, you slowly begin to stir from a satiated slumber; your other senses gradually awakening to the world around you.

As you stretch and yawn, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you - a snug warmth that lingers from the heady events of the night before, and emanates from the broad body beside you.

You stir to see Frankie propped up on an elbow and gazing down at you, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. His fingers are in your hair, stoking gently over the nub of your ear delicately.

You allow yourself to bask in it for a few moments, not shying away or worried about covering it up. Just revelling in the feel of his gentle, unabashed touch.

“Morning,” you sign to him with sleepy eyes.

“I have something for you,” he signs back, reaching behind him and presenting you with an open palm.

Resting on it now is your hearing aid. The casing is still cracked, but all the components and wires are tucked safely back inside.

"I hope you don't mind," Frankie signs, "I fixed it for you this morning while you were sleeping. I have a few tools kicking about in my truck. It’s not a permanent fix, was fiddly as hell, but it should help you out until you get your new one at least..."

A surge of gratitude floods your heart as you take the hearing aid from him with awe, your fingers tracing the familiar contours of the device with a sense of wonder.

“You fixed it?” You sign, completely floored.

“Well, I hope I did.” He signs back, sheepishly. You watch as he scratches under his jaw lazily and smiles at you. “Put it in, let’s see.”

With trembling fingers, you place the hearing aid in your ear, your breath catching in your throat as you wait for the moment of truth.

And then, as if by magic, the world around you slowly fuzzes alive with familiar sounds - the soft rustle of the sheets, the distant chirping of birds through the open window, the gentle rhythm of Frankie’s breathing beside you.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Frankie smiles eagerly at you.

As you hear his voice for the first time, you’re struck by its exquisite tone and timbre, like the gentle strumming of a finely tuned guitar. There's a deep richness to it, a depth that resonates within you, rain on gravel, velvet against skin.

“Hey,” you reply with a widening smile. “So good to finally hear you.”

“You too. But I’m just grateful you didn’t hear me snore.” Frankie chuckles, and you giggle with him as he nuzzles into you.

“Thank you,” you say before he kisses you, igniting sparks inside your chest again as he rolls on top of you, body warm and blanketing you.

"It was nothing, really."

“No, it's everything." You smile as he brushes his nose against yours. "Can I make you some breakfast, as a way of thanks?” You ask him as you feel his lips run over your neck, teeth gently nipping at the flesh there and hearing him hum out is exquisite.

“I’d love that.” His breath is all hot and muffled against your throat.

You can feel the thickness of him slipping between your soaked folds, grunting deeply as he slides back in, filling you up once more - a delicious, deep sound that reverberates and floods every nerve of your being.

Your world is alight with colour once more with the way he whines as you scratch inside his roots. The way he snuffles against your skin as he sucks in mouthfuls of it.

The sounds of him cursing through his pleasure, "fuck, baby," and "you feel so fuckin' good around my cock." His filth is exquisite.

You cry out as he fills you full, fingers grappling against his skin and mewling his name in hypnotic chants as he drives deep and hard. You can't get enough and never want to let him go.

“Mmm, I think this is a good way you can thank me right now, hermosa...”

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Frankie, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #triple frontier fic #bodies series #diversity #inclusion #every body is beautiful #jett's writing

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