#Also i'm sorry i still don't know how to tag things in place for this

[maenoakasuna]

{ All For Us Part II } Part I

Hello and Welcome to the part Two of All for Us ! I'm so happy this little story seem to please people. I still don't really know How to describe in the good way what this story will be, but so far I thing something like ; Toxic relation and healing process are good terms for it.

I hope you will enjoy this part as much as you enjoyed the firts part. My only negativ recap from this part is ; Im sorry for the ending I feel like I rushed it and also sorry for the lac of word or expression. If someone want to help me or correct something or even help me rewrith some parts hit me Up. I will not say No if it can make it better.

TW : Mention of drug, smut without Smut ( Started but never ended) Toxic relation, cheating

Tags : @private-vampire @rafesbunniebby

When you came back in the main Room, you return to the bed you awaken and sit on it. Your arms was wrapped around your legs as you try to breath to not start to cry. You wasn’t sure if all you felt was cause of the pregnancy, the stress or just cause you stopped abruptly to take drugs some months ago. Your mind was set to not take it but your body just want to feel high again. Also you would not be again’t not feeling stress Right Now.

You spotted Thano’s purple hair in the crowd as he mad his way to you with another guy before sitting in your bed, in front of you. He’s eyes was locked on you as you try to look like nothing matter, but your wet eyes and slightly trembling body betrayed You.

«-You didn’t seem to feel Alright, flower. »

He gave a Look at his friend, asking him to leave us alone for a moment. When He left, Thanos got closer to you. If you felt better you would have kicked his ass far from you, but you hardly have energy ton control the hurricane of emotions in your body right now.

Thanos put his arms around your shoulders before whispering something in your ear.

«-Maybe you need one of my special treats, for energy. I bring t some with me. -Scram, looser.»

Your voice was low, but the tone was hatfull. Thanos simply turn his head to look at you and raised an eybrow. He knew something was wrong.

«-Y/N … i’m serious. You didn’t seem fine. We already talked about that. If you want to quit drugs you can’t just do it like this. Your body will still crave it and if you refuse him his usual treat, he will make you go feral.»

A small sarcastic smile appear on your face. You Eyes was locked on what happen in the crowd in front of you, ignoring what the other talked about.

«-You mean, like you did ? No. I will not be like you.»

Thanos sight and let go of you to place himself again in front of you to have eyes contact with you.

«-I know i wasn’t the best boyfriend. I know I fucked up, but I swear I didn’t cheated on you. So please, let me help you.»

He get out the cross to his necklace and opened it, After taking care no one was looking at you, and took one little pill and put it your hand. You looked at the small thing with a lot of hesitation. He gave this to you, for free. You could just swallow it and let the anxiety fly away, but it will be an horrible mistake. This could be the death of your child and the win your body crave for. Also a Win for Thanos who think giving you drug is the real and also the best way to help you.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath as your hand was place one your belly like you tried to protect your child.

«-I can’t.

Your voice was shaky, just like you refuse to take the pill to gave you good conscience but it was just really hard to say no when all you need is that small little thing to make you feel better.

-Excuse-me, what ? What do you mean you can’t ? »

Thanos seems really surprised to ear you say no to this. That was one of your favorite drug before.

Giving him back his pill you opened your eyes and answered with more confidence.

«-I can’t. I don’t want to touch that shit ever again.»

The rapper looked at the pill in your hand and took it back, unsure and still surprised. He was about to say something but was cut by the crowd asking to leave, to do a vote. The guard agreed but first, they showed you and the rest of the alive competitors the amount of money you had collected after one game. If you all take the decision to leave, you will end up with more money than when you arrived but it wasn’t enough to pay your debts, but was it worth risking your life ? 

The vote started with player 456 who voted to go back home. You will pass in the last ones, it give you time to think about what you're gonna do.

You weren't surprised to see Thanos vote to stay.

When it was finally your turn, get up of your bed and walk to the machine, looking at the two buttons and the numbers of vote. It was 50/50

As much as you wish to go home, stay alive and never have to see Thano’s face ever again, the money you will receive from all the people who died in the first game, to had put your life in danger, it wasn’t enough. Not enough to clear you debts or to raise a child. Plus, here you will not find a way to put your hand on drug again. At least if you could leave with a little more money to go in detox, it will be the best. That’s why you choose to stay.

You felt sorry for everyone who wanted to go home, you will maybe choose to leave after the next game.

Before going to bed, you had to go to the bathroom. You didn’t felt so good, all the stress, the blood, the weird smell everywhere gave you nausea and you could hold in anymore. You took the first cabinet and throw up. You wasn’t sure if it was just the pregnancy but for once you had doubts about it, it just didn’t help.

«-I’m sorry… I’m sorry to put you in all this danger. To make you feel all those harsh emotions…»

Still throwing up, you felt tears on your face. You could hold in anything anymore. Everything was too much for a day.

«-One more game… and we are going home. I swear. »

You cried out as you flush the toilet. You let all your negative emotion out until you heard someone knock at your cabin door.

«-I’m sorry, I overheard you and I felt worried. Are you alright there ? -Yeah, wonderful, you answered with a lot of sarcasm, best day of my life.»

You sniffled and whipped your tears before get up of your feets and leaving the cabin. You found yourself face to face with another young girl with the number 222 or her hoodie. She looked at you with some concern. On the other part of her top, you could see a X. She voted to go home and cause of your vote, you denied her that fate. You felt like it was the best decision to stay, but you also felt so much guilt.

«-You talked alone ? She asked you.-Yeah, exactly. »

You are not here to make friends and you dont know her. You will not start to explain all your worries to a perfect stranger.

«-Can I ask you something  ? She asked as you made your way to the sink -You already did but yeah sure. -Why did you choose to Stay ? -Why did you choose to leave ?»

You saw her in the mirror, putting her hand on her belly while she looked at it with a worried look in her eyes.

«-Because I’m pregnant.»

Now you felt more guilty. You was in the same boat in this situation. What a Hellhole, two pregnants womens for one game. As you watch the water flow in your hands, you sigh heavily and close it, still looking at the sink.

«-So Am I. That’s why I chose to stay for at least one other game. I need this money to clear debts and at least go to therapy before I give birth. I don’t want my child to leave like I used to the last two years.»

You opened up so easily and mentally cursed yourself, you knew you shouldn't but you felt better now. Maybe Life put her on your way to show you that you are not alone.

«-How many months ? She asked.-I don’t really Know, for around 2 months. I realized it after I left my boyfriend, almost two months ago.»

She slowly get closer to You as you turn around to face her. You noticed her belly, it was bigger than yours, but with the baggy clothes it’s easy to hide. You should be able to hide it from Thanos without any problems. Your bum his only visible when your remove your cloths or show that part of your body, witch mean ; Never.

«-Why are you here ? You asked Her. -I need money to raise the kid on my own and the father put me in debt. I want a fresh start, but I never thought it would be a deadly games. What about You ? -Not that different from You. Addicted dad, drugs debts for both of us, also other things with an internet guy who scammed him and He lost everything. »

You continued your little chat with player 222 until a guard knocked at the door, asking You to get out. When the lights will turn off you need to be In your bed. 

You both left the bathroom to go back to the main room.

Once In your bed and the lights off, you weren't sleepy at all. You had too much on your mind, starting with Thanos and how you left him. Since you saw him cheating on you, you often have nightmares about that, waking up with the horrible feeling of not being  enough, cause that’s exactly what you felt that day.

Two Months Ago

You were awakened by Thano’s soft kisses on your Body. You could feel every one of them, starting by the corner of your lips, going down on your jaw, your neck, your shoulders. Your skin felt like melting under his lips. You could feel him smile as he continued his way down, kissing your collarbone as his hands found their place on your hips, pressing you against his more than awake boner. Having such an effect on him makes you smile as you open your eyes. The light coming from the big window of his apartment felt like aggression. Your eyes shut again as the headache started to hit. You were probably a little bit hungover from last night. 

When Thanos noticed you were awake, he smiled and slowly slid his hands under the Big t-shirt of his that you borrow every night, claiming it as your pajama.

«-Good morning Beautiful,  he said as he came back to kiss your neck. -Good morning, you answered as you tried again to open your eyes.»

This time, it was easier and the sun didn’t feel like your eyes were melting. You could see the beautiful smile of your boyfriend as his lips joined yours for a passionate kiss. Passing your arms around his neck, you answered the kiss with as much passion as him.

His Hands, still on your hips until now, started moving up to your breast, gently squeezing it . A shiver passed through your body when you felt the cold air on your exposed skin since your T-shirt followed Thanos hands. 

Your boyfriend ended the kiss and he took his time to look at you. Flushed cheeks, heavy breathing, exposed breast  with hard nipple who seem to call for his mouth. 

«-Fuck, baby, your are so beautifull.»

You didn’t know what you could answer. Thanos was one of those men who make you blush with that kind of praise. You liked that and He knew it.

With a Smile, he opened the drawer close to the bed and put out a stack of pills. For a second you thought he would take a condom but his priorities seemed to be for something else.

«-Do you really like that ? You asked, unsure. -Relax beautiful, it will just make the experience better, for both of us. »

He was about to take the pill when you stopped him.

«-Thanos, you don’t need that to make love to me.»

That’s when reality hits you like a car at full speed. You don’t even remember one time, in two years, when you was sober when it came to intimacy.

«-We can do it without, this time.-Why ? We always used to fucked when we was high. Believe my experience, it’s better.»

Fuck, not even making love. All of that made you feel suddenly uncomfortable. Gently, you pushed him from above you and replace you T-shirt to cover your body. All that just turned you off.

«-Is that what it is for you ? We just fuck.  -Fucking, Banging, Hoocked up , making love. All the same. Why is that suddenly such a Big deal ? -I don’t know, I just feel like it’s wrong. We shouldn't have to be high every time we have intimacy.»

Thanos' sight as he got up and took the pill.

«-Fuck off. You turned me off with your princess shit, he said as he left the room to go to the bathroom.»

That day was no fun. You had a great time the other night after his show, you came home late, drunk and probably high and now this. Thanos never liked when people tell him how to act or how he should feel, but you should have this right, at least to make the best out of him, but when you try he just push you away.

You barely talked that day. He had another show at the same bar from yesterday and had to work on some songs, so you let him work in peace. You spent your day in a coffee shop, thinking about what happened this morning, until you realised nothing was right in this relation. You didn’t even remember him telling you he loved you. All he always said was about how good you locked, or how beautiful you was, how much fun he had with you, but never how much he loved you, and somehow that broke your heart.

You could have wait until he came home to talk to him, but you knew He will probably be to tired and too high to have a serious conversation, si you showed up at the bar before he started his show. Making your way to his private room, you was about to enter but you stopped when you heard a feminine voice coming from there. The door was a little bite opened so you could see what was happening there. That’s how you knew. The vision broke your heart more than it already was. 

You saw a random girl sit on the table in the middle of the room and your boyfriend passionately kissing her. You knew Thanos for long enough to know that kind of passion. It was the ‘’ I will fuck you right here and right now ‘’ kind of one. 

You saw enough so you just left with tears in your eyes and even less than a broken heart.

[jennomess]

I can't.

My fingers really slipped twice while reblogging and posts ended up in two of my non kink side blogs. And i didn't noticed for like an entire day or at least an hour or two. And i wanna die. The matter is.

Mi gf follows me in one of them and is aware of the other, and the post that slipped in the one she follows stayed there for like A DAY and i'm not really sure if she saw it, but the other day i reblogged something with tags she would understand and responded me almost immediately 💀 so i'm freaking out 💀

I mean, at some point i wanted to tell her, but i didn't give it too much thought of when and all of that, but since THIS happened, i want to explain this to her and know if she thinks i'm a freak to know if i need to evaporate rn, but in the times we have seen each other after the slipped post she haven't said anything or looked at me weirdly, as far as i can tell. And even, at this point i don't know -surely not- if it's on purpose but she talks about sickness so naturally and the times she sneezes i, wtf, i think it's a challenge, please why wtf, and i'm a 0 in this things like, i do not show any nothing and do not speak almost any nothing relating to sickness and such, and it feels kinda like a trap and as i, the few times it happened, enjoy her sneezes, i feel threatened. I feel that if she knows or saw something she is thinking that i'm gonna tell her about this when i'm ready, and/or maybe it's not a matter for her, not that much(?) Or maybe she does not know how to adress the subject and her discomfort about it and end all in good terms.

I want to tell her, yes, i want to explain this to her, i'm ITCHING to tell her every time we meet. But i don't know if it's the right time to do it, or if there's a right time, i don't think it's the right time just yet, but i don't want to ruin things after being together for time that can feel like wasted. We're together for a year now, but we are ace, as far as i/we know, we barely castely kissed once (bc it seems that i reaally take my time, and here the truth is that i didn't felt much like it but i still was curious of how does that touch feels with her, to get used to it to then grasp the enjoyment of the sensation and gradually take some toughts to reality together, and i wanted to take a step too, the absurdity of how am i gonna tell her about something kinky if we don't even have a minimum grade of intimacy being a small other reason), i think i have more undirected libidum spikes than her or at least the time that the subject came out she does not give much signs, and, one of the most important thing is that I'm. her First. Relationship.

Even though she tells me "everything with you", i'm scared, i want to make the things right and smooth(?) for her but i'm so complicated at least for this.

Like, wtf, sneeze kink but ace and kinda germaphobic(?) god help me go through this please.

If someone wants to chat about this i could really use sharing experiences 💀😭💀

[And if you hapoen to see this please speak to me, or give me a hint, my name here or something 😣]

[lee-blogs]

Still packing stuff and now i'm looking for a box for this.

My dad and i made it a few years ago for halloween, probably 2015/16 if i'm remembering right. It's made from a lays can, a wipes container from his work, and paper maché. I don't remember what the wires and front metal bits are from, but the middle actually lights up! It has one of those long battery-powered emergancy lights in it and some colored tissue paper

[fragmentedblade]

Jing Yuan's "It's hard to discard one's past" line during Yukong's mission fell on me with the weight of a tombstone

[tiza0925]

Hi!...umm could you pls do a NSFW tanjiro x reader where reader starts to get jealous of kanao bcos kanao has started to gain feeling for tanjiro and has been trying to get close with him but she doesn't know that reader and tanjiro are secretly dating so reader ends up distancing herself from everyone and when tanjiro confronts reader they end up in a mating press+overstimulation and a bit breeding kink 😳

(Pls don't get me wrong I luv Kanao but I haven't seen any fanfictions like this and I'm sorry if this request is too much)😅

Take care 😊

only you | 18+

Warnings/Tags: nsfw, explicit sexual content, jealous!reader, afab/female reader, unprotected sex, mating press, creampie, breeding kink, reassurance, Tanjiro loves you so much, multiple orgasms (implied), overstimulation, soft!dom Tanjiro, ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS ARE AGED UP AND OVER 18 YEARS-OLD

Pairing: Tanjiro Kamado x Female Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You feel two thick fingers shove inside your mouth, the fingertips hooking onto your bottom teeth to pull your head forward to look into sinful red eyes. 

You blink blearily, tears blur your vision, and you choke with a sob as drool drips down the corners of your mouth. 

“Already crying?” You hear Tanjiro murmur, voice sweet and low, a huge contrast to the brutal thrusts he’s been giving you—fucking your sore cunt with the intent to make you pass out. “Too much for you now, hm?”

You suck in a sharp breath, moaning around his fingers, and your eyes roll back when Tanjiro leans in to have his head near your ear—causing his cock to sink in deeper that you swear you feel him in your throat. 

“I’m sorry, love, but you’ll have to hold on for a little longer,” His voice rumbles against you, rolling through your ear as his lips graze the shell of your ear. “I still need to cum inside you, okay?” 

If you weren’t currently getting fucked to the point where you can feel Tanjiro’s dick in your soul and your mind wasn’t a puddle of liquid pleasure—

You would probably laugh at yourself for being in the situation you’re in at the very moment. 

Because none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for Kanao.

And now you’re torn between still wanting to be mad at Kanao and also wanting to give her a hug of gratitude for getting Tanjiro like this. 

Not because Kanao directly told Tanjiro to fuck you like he’s some madman. 

Instead, funnily enough, it was Kanao who was the one that wanted Tanjiro for herself. 

It was obvious with the way you’d watch her laugh at his jokes that weren’t even that funny sometimes. 

Or the way you’ve noticed Kanao would leave light touches on Tanjiro’s hand and arm—brief but still giving the message that she wants more from him—whenever you were all out on the field training. 

You’ve seen the way Kanao looked at Tanjiro. 

And honestly—you don’t blame her. 

Tanjiro is an attractive guy. 

Not only in his face but his demeanor, how polite he is. Smart, funny, and god—have you seen him without a shirt? 

So you get why Kanao acts that way—even more recently, now, as Tanjiro started to train more and grew a little taller. 

It’s why you’re dating him, in the first place. 

But nobody knows that. 

You two didn’t want to get in trouble—dating within the Corps wasn’t allowed. 

But you guys couldn’t help it. 

He liked you, and you didn’t want to lose out on the chance of having him to yourself. 

The only issue with keeping your relationship with Tanjiro a secret—

Is that people, like Kanao, will try to get with him instead. 

Because in their eyes—he’s single. 

In Kanao’s eyes—Tanjiro is available for her. 

And at first—you didn’t care. 

You both knew what would happen once you kept this relationship a secret. 

People will still flirt—it happened to you many times by other guys. 

But you were always polite to let them down—made up some lie about wanting to focus on becoming a better slayer and all. 

And Tanjiro said the same thing to Kanao once before—and she listened. 

Admired him from far away. 

And you were okay with that. 

Until—

Until Kanao started to get handsy. Gradually.  

Until her small crush developed into something more for Tanjiro—and she wasn’t so subtle about it anymore. 

You were okay with it until Kanao and Tanjiro got a little closer—and you had to sit back with your teeth pinching your tongue, watching and doing nothing about it. 

And over time—it got to you. 

It’s not that you don’t trust Tanjiro—because this man has done nothing but respect and show you immense trust and security in your relationship. 

And he never flirted with Kanao back. 

But that doesn’t mean you trust Kanao. 

Not when Tanjiro is, in general, a really nice guy. 

Nice to the point where Kanao can mistake it for flirting. 

And if you couldn’t say anything about it—because what can you say without blowing your guys’ secret? 

‘Hey, stop flirting with Tanjiro because—‘ 

Because what? You like him?

That he’s yours? 

It was futile and you hated it. 

…Hence, why you started to distance yourself. 

From a few others at first. 

But then it started to turn into you making an excuse to not talk to Tanjiro. 

That distancing turned into you avoiding him as much as you can. 

Because it hurt. 

You can’t flirt with Tanjiro in public as Kanao can 

And honestly—you genuinely thought you would get away with this whole ‘distancing thing'. 

It even got to the point where you thought that you and Tanjiro's relationship could possibly be over. 

And wouldn’t that be amazing for Kanao, huh? 

But then Tanjiro confronted you about it one night—and that…

That was something. 

The door to your dorm closes behind him as you both walk in, and it’s deadly silent. 

The tension is so thick that you can cut a knife through it, but you don’t say anything.

And for a moment—it remains silent. 

Just waiting for something to drop, to set off the bomb that’s been ticking for a while, now. 

And—

And then you hear Tanjiro let out a tired sigh, and you turn to see him rub a hand over his face as he looks at you, confused. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, now?” 

Your eyes widen, and surprise flashes through your pupils as you swallow hard, playing dumb as you avert your gaze. “There’s nothing wrong.” 

He lets out a derisive snort, sarcasm lacing his words “Really?” 

“Yes, really,” Your voice comes out flat, and you walk towards your bed while taking off your shirt. “You should go, I’m tired.” 

A lie. 

One that Tanjiro immediately detects as he shakes his head and follows you. “Not until we talk this out first.” 

That’s the thing that also made you fall for him—is how big he is on communication. 

It’s something you generally love about him—except for this very moment. 

Because talking about how stupidly jealous you are will get you emotional—you can already feel the damn lump beginning to form in your throat. 

You try to ignore him as you set up the bed, sniffling. “There’s nothing to talk about.” 

Tanjiro huffs out a breath, his voice soft and pleading. “Don’t lie to me.”

You purse your lips, your teeth clenching. “You should go rest.” 

You feel him closer behind you, his body heat near yours, and his voice is so confused. “Was it something I said?” 

The breath you let out is shaky, feeling guilty for making him think he’s at fault here. 

Because he’s not but emotions are a bitch and it’s starting to get to you. 

You swallow thickly. “No.” 

Another step closer to you. 

“Was it something someone else said?” 

Your voice is a little strained. “…No.” 

“Did someone do something? Did I do something—?”

And at this point—something kind of just…snaps. 

“I don’t know,” You don’t mean to have any bite in your words, but you’re just so frustrated and overwhelmed and feel so stupid for the way you’re acting that it all just hits you at once as you sniffle, your voice cracking. “Why don’t you go ask your little girlfriend, Kanao?”

And then—

Everything turns silent. 

You can hear the soft ringing in your ears right after you say that. 

You can feel your heart thumping rapidly with regret flushing your cheeks and your stomach drops. 

Fuck. 

You didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

You feel a rough hand wrap around your wrist, and the next thing you know—

You’re being spun around—and your vision is instantly met with big, red eyes. 

And your breath hitches in your throat soon after when you take in Tanjiro’s expression because—

He doesn’t look mad at you. 

He looks…worried. 

Almost regretful in a way. 

“That’s what this is all about?” 

He asks, sounding incredulous and confused, looking at you patiently for you to answer. 

God—you feel so irrational now—

“I…” You start, not sure what to say with the way he’s looking at you like that, and you gulp. “…It’s not—”

“Oh, love,” Tanjiro sighs. Low and heavy—full with understanding once he takes a good look at you—and his eyebrows crinkle with focus as he brings you closer to him—tucking your head under his chin as he wraps his arms, full of muscles and warmth, around you. “You have no reason to be jealous of her, you know.” 

Your lower lip wobbles. “I know—”

“But,” He stops you, and you let out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner.” 

Fuck.

You close your eyes, feeling guilty for even making him have to say that because—

“It’s not your fault,” You mutter, but Tanjiro simply shakes his head, sounding firm. 

 “No, I should’ve made stricter boundaries with Kanao—which I will do when I see her.” 

“I don’t want to tell you what to do with your friends, though.” 

Tanjiro frowns and tips his chin down to give your forehead an achingly gentle kiss, mumbling against your head. “How you feel is more important to me.”

Well, that’s just not fair. 

You both stay like that for a bit—simply hugging and being in the other’s arms. 

It’s silent again but this time it’s comfortable. 

But then at some point—

“Hey,” Reluctantly, you lift your head to look at him, and Tanjiro’s eyes soften as he gives your lips a soft, gentle kiss. “You’re the only one I want, you know.” 

You whimper, feeling a small shiver crawl up your spine. 

He guides your mouth open with his, his warm tongue sliding against your lower lip. “You’re the only one I want to kiss.” 

His hands on you grow firmer, almost possessive, as he pulls you closer to him—and you let out a small moan. 

He kisses you so deeply that you feel it in your bones, and he starts to walk you towards the bed—the bend of your knees hitting the edge, causing your back to fall and land on the soft cushion beneath. 

And he follows, holding you close to him, his mouth traveling to your ear and giving it a small nip, his voice rough against you, “You’re the only one I want to be inside of, too.” 

God. 

You feel yourself throb and you throw your arms around his neck as your legs wrap around him—kissing him back just as deeply, moaning into his mouth because this is the Tanjiro that you want. 

This is what you need from him right now. 

…Which is how, moments later, you end up the way you are right now. 

Cheeks red and shiny from tears. 

Your head foggy and ready to explode. 

Body so exhausted and numb from the way he’s been fucking you—holding you down with your legs thrown over his shoulders, nearly bending you in half as he presses your legs against your chest—

And he’s fucking you through your third orgasm, all while you cry around his fingers, clinging onto whatever your hands can find as Tanjiro pushes down on you—groaning at just how pretty you look. 

“Only made for me, love,” Tanjiro breathes heavily, kissing one of your tears, before looking back at you with a small grin. “You take me so well.”

You whine, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth—your saliva shiny on his fingers—and he uses the same hand to wrap around your neck, putting one of your most vulnerable parts into his hand. 

“And I’m gonna make sure I get you all full with my cum.” 

That’s another thing about him. 

It’s the way he is in bed. 

He can be gentle but—

But there’s just this edge to him that makes your head spin and turn into mush. 

It’s the way he talks with words that sound sweet with the tone he uses, even if they’re filthy—as if each word has been dipped in sin-filled chocolate. 

It’s the way he fucks you with so much love and yet still manages to make you feel boneless and fucked stupid like some slut. 

And that little, spiteful, part of you grins—knowing that no one else gets to experience this side of him except you. 

Not even Kanao. 

He fucks you deep and slow, your fluids gushing out and getting both of you so wet that you can hear the sweet squelch of your pussy getting abused by his cock. 

Your clit is overstimulated from his body rubbing against it with every thrust—that your muscles tense and heat is constantly sparking in your lower belly.

He goes until he starts talking about breeding you—filling your sweet cunt with his cum and keeping it there until your belly is full with his babies and—

“God, love—”

And then you hear him groan, and Tanjiro kisses you as soon as his orgasm pushes through him—and he’s pumping his cum inside your pulsing cunt, filling you to the brim. 

It’s messy. 

You’re both so goddamn messy and out of breath by the time he cools down. 

But you don’t care. 

Even if your pussy is sore and wet and you know you’ll need a shower right after this—

And even if his breathing is heavy—hell, he feels heavy on top of you—

You like it. 

It’s welcoming. 

He kisses you again, this time slow and indulgent, and you feel yourself go numb at his words that get murmured right against you, “I’m all yours, okay?” 

End. 

Masterpost

[parfaitblogs]

peace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all

also posted here on my ao3 !

Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.

In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently. 

Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch. 

But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now. 

You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side. 

He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently. 

Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.

"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds. 

You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what. 

He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.

"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached. 

"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards. 

He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.

He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest. 

And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat. 

He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower. 

It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers. 

That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.

So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest. 

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan. 

When your sobs subsided, he spoke. 

"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head. 

"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.

He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"

"Lots of little things."

"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"

You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."

With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.

If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on. 

He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head. 

"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you. 

You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."

"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."

"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile. 

He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."

"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly. 

"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence. 

His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place. 

"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once. 

You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"

"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften. 

"No. You're not," he reassured. 

"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"

"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve." 

"But you do deserve better."

"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"

"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"

"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"

"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.

More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more. 

Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"

You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms. 

"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."

You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood. 

He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer. 

"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"

You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."

"Oh."

He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest. 

"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."

"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own. 

"Thought you might need someone."

You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't."

His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."

"No? Then how?" you asked.

"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."

"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."

He laughed, and you smiled again.

"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[eloquentlytired]

— when the time comes

pairing: old man!logan howlett x gn! reader

word count: no idea but this one isn't very long.

part two is out!

tags: major character death — angst — reader is logan’s sunshine — mention of blood & wounds — logan low-key proposing 5 seconds before he dies — non established relationship

author's note: this has been on my mind since 2 days ago so I had to do it now.. I hope you guys enjoy reading this heartbreak! and yes I wrote this after watching Logan (2017) again. just a bit of an alternative type of ending so I can write abt logan x reader! as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

god stood me up

and I don't know why

lights are on

but nobody's home

you find him leaning against a tree trunk, a chunk of wood piercing his sides open as blood soaks through his shirt. that isn't the only wound he's sporting but it's the most evident one; the one that'll possibly lead him to his demise.

logan blinks upon noticing you as if he's just seeing things or dreaming. when you crouch down beside him and place your hand on his arm, he realizes exactly just how real you are. “logan?” there are tears in your eyes and he hates that you're crying because of him again. you had been living with him, charles and caliban way before it all turned to shit. and somehow the only ones left standing were laura and you. and the kids that logan had managed to save; he truly had saved so many lives.

there's a silence aside from his heavy breathing before your shaky hands cup his face. the blood flows out of his wound and mouth like a river. in some way you're bleeding too — inside your heart. “hey sunshine.” logan whispers with a soft smile and you feel something tear your chest apart from the inside. “I made you cry again.” you see the way his hand twitches by his side. he wants to touch you but he's old and tired and wounded. there's no energy left in him to move anymore. “the kids are okay, laura is okay— I have the car and..and there's still time— the hospital—” your voice trails off when logan closed his eyes.

“you know what makes me angry, sunshine?” logan asks and you simply stare at him, shaking your head. when he opens his eyes again, they are full of unshed tears. “gonna miss my daughter’s first birthday with me—” logan mutters brokenly and the vision of laura swims beneath his half-opened eyelids. and after laura there is you; smiling. at the beach. you've always wanted to go to the beach with him but he never took you since he was working day and night to take care of everything. of everyone. “and i’m also gonna miss my sunshine.” his eyes fall on you, on your crying face. the tears sliding down your cheeks are plenty and there is so much emotion pooling in those orbs of yours. logan wants to kiss you, tell you it'll be alright. but he can’t even move.

he coughs, some blood spluttering on his white shirt and you flinch. your fingers shake as you slide them through his messy hair, stroking them in the way he’s always loved. “logan, I'm sorry...I— I'm so sorry logan..” you keep chanting and logan feels the frustration in his bones when he tries to move his arms. he can't, he's too weak now, and he's angry with himself that he's unable to comfort you the way he wants. the way he once could but never did. “not you nor the entire world could ever prevent this, sunshine. it was meant to be like this.” he says before coughing again, more blood trickling down his beard.

you crawl by his side, on the dirty ground, and press against his ‘good’ side while leaning your head on his shoulder. you tilt your head back enough for your eyes to reach his exhausted face. logan maintains a smile you haven't seen in forever. in damn years to be precise. “charles spoke to me of other timelines and some shit about— multiverse was it?” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don't fucking know. I just wanted him to take the damn pills.” his sentence makes both of you laugh although logan is holding back with that — it'll only cause more physical pain after all. “point is..if it's true then—”

“—we gotta find each other yeah? and laura.” his eyes aren't on you anymore but they're in the sky. it's bluer than ever and the clouds part to show him the sun. logan doesn't look away even if it makes his eyes ache. you stare. “wanna make it right, sunshine.” he tells you as you sniffle by him. his fingers flinch again between your bodies and you slide a single hand down to hold his own, to intertwine your fingers in a gentle mess. “but for now I want to rest.” logan whispers and your grip tightens around his hand. if he had the strength, he'd squeeze back. you knew this.

“you did excellent.” you finally manage to say, a little steadier this time. logan averts his gaze to you as you continue. “you did a good job. you did such a good job.” you repeat with a smile so soft that logan starts yearning for you already. his faint chuckle turns into a rough cough and he takes some time to recover before speaking again.

“maybe after I rest, I'll open my eyes and..” you watch as logan’s eyes begin closing and how the heaving of his chest slows. he's deathly pale by now, the veins underneath his eyes are prominent, but your grip never slackens. you crawl closer until your foreheads touch. logan draws one last breath and you swallow down your cry. “and I'll see my daughter. and my... spouse.” your eyes shoot open wide but logan’s remain fallen shut. your chest heaves up and down intensely but logan’s remains still.

when the time comes, your feet are forcefully dragging you away towards your old car while logan lies beneath the ground.

[nakylvr]

— ESPRESSO

kim donghyun "leehan" x gn!reader

summary: the coffee shop you regularly go to has a new employee, a kind male your age who always seems to write your name wrong. too bad you'll never notice his attempts at talking to you, right?

warnings/tags: fluff, barista!leehan, barista!taesan mention, mild language, super short sorry

my first boynextdoor post!! requests are open for these lovely lads 🫶 i might do a pt 2 for this but for now this is it!

"y-yn?"

you hear your name, or, an attempt to say your name as you stand aside from the front counter waiting for your coffee. you walk up and grab your drink from the employee, turning it around to see another complete butchering of your name written on the cup. when you look at who's working the cashier, you see the same male you've seen the past few weeks. the one who has taken your exact same order these past few weeks, and still manages to spell your name wrong leaving his coworkers struggling to pronounce whatever he wrote.

he's cute, which is the first thing you noticed about him. his hair long enough to outline his perfect face, his brown eyes that looked like they were chocolate, the warm smile he always had on his face. god, why did this place have to get all the cute people as employees? he must be new too, judging by the way he keeps looking back at his coworkers to ask questions about the drinks and what sizes they come in. also by how nice he seems to be for the overwhelming holiday season for local coffee shops.

as you take a sip of the drink, you look at the time on your watch and realize you're running late. walking by the front counter, you go right by the male who hesitantly reaches his arm out to try and talk to you, but you don't notice as you walk out the door putting your phone to your ear.

"do you really think this is going to work?" taesan asks leehan, leaning against the counter.

"positive," leehan nods his head. "it just...may take some time."

"yeah, no shit," taesan rolls his eyes. "what are you even trying to get out of this? i'm the one actually making the drinks. you just take the orders and spell their name wrong every time."

"well," leehan starts. "they're cute, and i want to get to know them."

"so you think by writing their name wrong repeatedly will want them to talk to you and not get irritated by your incapacity to spell?" taesan raises an eyebrow at his friend.

leehan lets out a sigh, dragging his hands down his face. "i don't know! i'm trying, okay?!"

"terribly," taesan mutters. "maybe actually try to have a conversation with them. you never know what could happen." he shrugs lightly.

"yeah, i guess," leehan nods.

the next morning, you walked into the coffee shop looking like you got up five minutes prior. you got essentially no sleep the previous night, and were in desperate need for a strong coffee instead of your usual. you stop in front of the counter and a male walks up to it from behind it, the same one you'd seen the past few weeks.

"hi," he says with a smile. "you gonna get your-"

"i need a quad shot iced americano."

"oh!" leehan lets out in surprise at both you cutting him off and your tone. "not-not your usual?" he asks.

you shake your head. "not today, sorry."

"no! it's okay!" leehan quickly changes the order on his side and grabs a new cup, giving a look to taesan who was already pouring the original drink for you. "uh. uhm."

you raise an eyebrow at the confusion growing visible on the barista's face, clearly not knowing how to do something. "is everything okay?" you ask.

"yep!" leehan nods quickly, clearing his throat as he writes your name on the cup. "you're all set!" he smiles.

you blink a few times, staring at him confused. "you haven't charged me yet."

"don't worry about it!" leehan's smile stays on his face. "my treat," he says before he can think.

a blush forms on your face realizing you just got your drink for free, shyly nodding your head and pushing some of your hair out of your face. "well, thank you..." your voice trails off.

"donghyun," he answers, his smile growing bigger.

"thank you, donghyun. i really appreciate it," you say, smiling back at him.

"it's not a problem," he shakes his head, his hair flowing with him. "really."

"yn?"

sending a gentle smile leehan's way, you walk over to the other side and take your drink from the black-haired male you always saw with leehan. looking at the cup, your smile grows bigger at the sight of your name. walking back up to the front, you hold the cup up in front of leehan.

"finally got my name right, hm?" you say, smiling still. you turn the cup a little bit more, failing to notice leehan's eyes widening in fear as you see numbers scribbled on it, making you confused. looking over the numbers, you realize it's a phone number. slowly lowering the cup, your smile grows bigger as you look at the male in front of you. "and more, huh?"

"uhm," leehan lets out awkwardly, shifting on his feet. "i was hoping i would be able to talk to you more," he admits, a shy smile on his face. "but i didn't really know how to go about it."

it all clicked in your brain then. "so you were writing my name wrong on purpose?" you question, but the smile remains on your face.

"yeah," he nods.

"do you have a paper and pen?" you ask, leaving leehan looking at you confused.

"here," taesan pops out of nowhere, handing you a pen and pad from his apron pocket, nudging leehan lightly before walking in the back.

scribbling your number down on the paper, you tear the page off and hand it over to the male who's staring at you in bewilderment. "here! in case the marker wipes off the cup or one of my friends tosses it," you tell him.

taking the paper from you, leehan looks it over and his face instantly turns red realizing it's your number. "oh! gotcha!" he nods, shoving it in his pocket.

your phone dings, and you pull it out of your pocket to glance at it before putting it back away. "well, i gotta get going. but, it was really nice talking to you a bit, donghyun," you say, grabbing your drink.

"yeah, you too," leehan smiles. "i'll text you after my shift!"

smiling back at him, you open the door and wave. "i'll be waiting!"

as you walk out the door, the bell dinging as you leave, there's a dumb, lovesick smile on leehan's face as he leans against the counter. he glances around, seeing no customers in the store before pumping his fist up in the air. "hell yes!" he exclaims.

"you're a fucking idiot," taesan rolls his eyes, walking back up front.

"be quiet!"

[wrioluvr]

coming out to + confessing to belobog men. ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆

note: wanted to try my hand at writing more cute stuff <3 also there are like ZERO posts in the luka x male reader tag my baby deserves more. happy pride my beloved readers!!! i wrote this like 6 months ago and coincidentally just picked it back up in time for june! i don't even play hsr anymore... crying emoji content: male reader, fluff. luka, sampo, gepard

sampo (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

would 100% know before you even told him

"hey, [name]! heard you got something to tell me, don't worry, your good pal sampo's all ears."

"sampo... uh.....i like... guys...."

"oh, is that it? i thought it was obvious..."

"HUH????"

"i meant- thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. your secret's safe with me, hehe." placing his hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture, he promises sincerely. despite his initial reaction, he really is touched. not many people trust him, so your willingness to share something so personal made him feel special.

"oh, and one more thing....."

"what is it? you got a secret boyfriend you didn't tell me about?" he asks teasingly, not expecting the bomb you're about to drop on him.

"...i like you."

his eyes go wide. "now that's a surprise."

even though he'd scam people without a second thought, some calling him cruel, he can't bring himself to be indifferent to you. here you were, pouring your heart out, with such a nervous expression on your face, how could he maintain his usual sly demeanour? in all seriousness, he knows he's a bit scummy, so he would be a bit hesitant about getting into a relationship for your sake. he's always running about, chased by the authorities, he doesn't want you to be involved into all that. but if you're willing to accept him and his slippery ways, he'll be sure to put an equal amount of effort. he hates owing favours, after all.

"oh, how could i refuse such a an enticing offer? of course i'll be your boyfriend, [name]." he can't help the grin that appears on his face at your expression, simultaneously shocked and overjoyed. "seriously, you're too precious.... c'mon, let's go on a date!" throwing an arm around you, he squeezes your shoulder excitedly.

"wha- like right now?? and you accepted my confession just like that???" you're at loss of words as he drags you along to who knows where.

"what are you waiting for? let's go, pal! wait- should i call you pal now that we're dating? how about buddy? hmm... still too friendly. how do you feel about sweetheart?"

જ⁀➴

every time he appears at your door, giving you a sheepish grin as he explains how he needs to lay low for a bit, it always comes with a kiss, or several, along with a heart-shaped box of your favourite chocolates. he might go missing for a few days at a time on "business" (probably some illegal trading), but he always makes sure to update you on his whereabouts so you don't worry, sending a bunch of heart pom-pom stickers to let you know he misses you. if anyone were to ever make some snide comments about your sexuality, his first instinct would be to drop every job he's doing and comfort you, followed by using his various contacts to deal with that person swiftly. natasha and seele can't believe he actually got someone to like him, much less get into a serious relationship, but nevertheless, they make sure to look out for you to ensure he doesn't break your heart. he vows not to ever hurt you though, it's the last thing he'd ever want. his promises are often fickle with his clients, but with you, they're always sincere.

luka (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭

would definitely being overenthusiastic about being an ally

"[name], hey! you wanted to tell me something? i hope it's about training with me...."

"sorry, luka, it's not about that.... i.... i just wanted to let you know that i'm gay."

"oh! like seele and bronya!"

"i mean- i guess....?" your nervousness was immediately replaced by a comical surprise at his response, you had to suppress your laughter. he was so genuine, it was endearing.

"don't worry! if any thugs give you shit for it, just tell me. i'll deal with them right away... i've been itching for a fight anyway." he immediately gets into a fighting stance, throwing a few punches in the air to get his point across. he ended his little show with a wink, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. you decided to tell him then and there.

"and uh, luka. i like you."

"aw, thanks! i like you too. you're a great friend, [name]."

"like, in the romantic way..."

"that works too! that way, i can protect you easier." without missing a beat, he flashes you a grin and a thumbs up, seemingly unfazed by your sudden confession. but the slight dust of red on his cheeks let you know your words did have an effect.

"wait... you know this means we'll be boyfriends?" your head's reeling at how easily he accepted your feelings. did this man really not think about anything but training and beating up thugs??? not that you were complaining, his drive was one of his charming points, but still.

"yeah, i don't mind. with someone like you by my side, i'm sure i could take on any enemy. thank you for giving me this opportunity."

જ⁀➴

even though he puts on a strong front, secretly, he's deathly afraid of becoming a burden, especially to you. one of his favourite pastimes is training and working out with you, or he'd be content for you to just watch him train and cheer for him as well. as long as he has the reassurance that you know he's getting stronger, allowing him to shield you from the dangers of the underworld. if he ever gets injured, a simple persuasion won't work, you'll have to physically hold him in place so that you can treat his cuts and bruises - no matter how much he protests and insists he's fine, he does appreciate it. a lot. he enjoys the little things, the way you run your fingers along the cool metal of his arm as you ramble about your day, or the enthusiastic whoop you give every time he knocks an opponent out at the fight club, or the scent of the freshly cleaned towel you bring him to dry his sweat. you help him realise that there's time to relax, his self-imposed training schedule being so intense and demanding. getting him to not be so hard on himself would be a treat. if you ever get derogatory comments about your sexuality... trust, he'll personally teach them a lesson, and ask natasha not to treat them once he's done. after all, you give him another reason to continue training to be the strongest. he has to be there for you.

gepard ( •̀ - •́ )

dense cutie... wouldn't get your hints until you told him explicitly

"my apologies for being late, [name]... you had something you wanted to tell me?"

"no problem, gepard... i just wanted to tell you that-" taking a deep breath, you prepare youself for his reaction. "-i like guys."

"oh? me too, i'm quite fond of the guards under my care."

"i mean that i'm gay..."

"oh, that's what you meant. are you telling me this because you've faced some form of discrimination lately? don't worry, belobog has strict laws in place to prevent-"

"no, gepard- i'm telling this because i like you..."

"oh."

જ⁀➴

congratulations, you've courted the sweetest man in all of belobog! initially, he was slightly worried that your newfound relationship would interfere with his duties as protector of the people, but much to his surprise, making time for you is easy. or more so, it's because you always make the effort to stop by whenever he's out patrolling, so you end up spending a lot of time together anyway. his face might get red when you blow him a kiss behind the rest of the silvermane guards' backs, but he always makes sure to let you know how much he appreciates your guidance. he's a little self-conscious about his lack of romantic experience, so be gentle with him! don't tease him too much. while he is fully devoted to his duty, he's not above slipping away for a few minutes when you text him to meet in a back alley, to gift him some flowers you may or may not have stolen from belobog's florist. the next day, he would return the favour by holding out a bunch of your favourite flowers, home grown (an attempt was made) in his very own garden. hey, even if they're slightly wilted, it's the thought that counts, right? don't look at him with that affectionate gaze! he's embarrassed. it would be quite funny if you had criminal tendencies, gepard would be absolutely torn between lecturing you and turning a blind eye simply because his lovely boyfriend had made lunch for him earlier in the day. especially if you're friends with sampo, the little shit would threaten to snitch to you everytime gepard almost catches him. or.... perhaps.... he let you off the hook because of that one time you pinned him against some alley wall (when he was supposed to be patrolling! blasphemous.) and kissed him so hard his legs gave out. you've become one of his weaknesses, but he doesn't mind it. at all.

pic credits to dailysampo, dailygepard and dailylukaa on twt!

[curlyfriesgalore]

headcanons of a

hibiscus-loving boy ♡

☆ requested by anon — my daisuke headcanons.

★ a long sfw & nsfw headcanons list with one-shot segments of solo! daisuke scenarios to start off the new year 🥳.

☆ gen tags: fem! reader but reader isn't in his life (yet). the sfw takes place on earth and the tulpar, while all the nsfw is on the tulpar. before the crash (except it is mentioned in one headcanon). daisuke & his relationship with his parents. daisuke is single but very much wishes he could mingle. bits of silly stuff because it is daisuke, after all. someone please date him already... swansea is so sick of listening to him rave about "hot babes."

★ nsfw tags MDNI: malesub. dry humping objects. semi-public masturbation. daisuke uses a vibrator & flesh-light individually. mommy kink (as expected) and puppy kink (only mentioned though). lots of yearning for his dream girl and fantasies of women in general. (could it be you? 🫣)

[anon, thank you so much and i hope you liked this! on another note, i'm working on a long fluffy daisuke x reader oneshot, so you guys will get that wholesome content eventually. also, i forgot that daisuke was probably canonically bunking with swansea but... for the sake of this and daisuke's dignity, he gets his own room lol. —iris🌠]

sfw.

★ earth.

this isn't a set headcanon of mine, but i like to think that daisuke is a japanese and filipino man who grew up in hawaii but doesn't go home to his respective countries often. when he does, it's always a long catch-up with his large extended family, whom he misses dearly.

he gives off the energy of a single child solely raised by his first-generation immigrant parents, both of whom want the best for daisuke's future but struggle to show that in a constructive manner.

he has a relatively solid relationship with them, and their arguments are still within the realm of what is expected of families. however, there's a degree of emotional distance between him and his parents, especially with his mom who's a bit firmer on daisuke's education than his dad, who still cares about it just as much, but he's more reserved compared to his wife—the outspoken of the two.

with how they both work full-time and how he grew up with a vastly different upbringing from them, daisuke doesn't feel as close to his parents as he thinks he should. sometimes, they don't understand him, like his incessant love for thrifting and doodle-drawing, and sometimes, he can't understand them, like their insistence on getting him into an ivy league college when a public university works just fine (according to him).

daisuke is much more fluent in tagalog than he is in japanese, which his mom pesters him to study more, fearing that he'll struggle to pass down his knowledge of her lineage to his future kids properly.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"tch, and how will they know how to speak to their obaachan, hah? it's not that hard to practice every morning, dai-dai." his mom sighs, one hand clutching the strap of her kinkachu bag while the other held a bottle of olive oil.

daisuke withheld a groan, grumbling to himself before responding, "i knowww, ma, i know. i'm just busy, okay?" his forearms fold over the trolley's handle, bringing his chin to rest on top of them.

she glares, "busy playing with your gameboy? you call that busy?"

without consciously intending to, he rolls his eyes, then swiftly snaps them back in place. cringing at himself as he purses his lips, a pathetic whisper of sorry leaves his clenching teeth.

before he knows it, his mom is scoffing. she squints at him with her brows furrowed, her gaping mouth quirking to one corner, and shakes her head in disbelief, bee-lining to the next thing on their grocery list.

"eh?! mama, i didn't mean to!" daisuke quickly splurges a cacophony of apologies as he pushes the cart, trying to keep up with his mom.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

other than that, his parents genuinely love him, as much as they begrudgingly listen to his endless rambles which they barely understand because of how all over the place his retellings can be.

daisuke always finds ways to interject his current story with another story that relates to the initial story, which he must explain in excruciating detail, or else they won't get the references he'll make when he continues the first story! so they just sigh and nod their head. (it's even worse for his dad when daisuke starts using english slang that's far too modern for his head to translate in real-time).

his parents have considered a second child. however, the financial burden, emotional weight, and physical pain from vaginal burns or cesarean scars that they'd have to repeat were too much. one sugar-charged chatterbox of a kid was enough for their lifetime.

daisuke wasn't always sure about what he wanted to do in life. his mind had always been glued to his dreams of traveling beaches around the world, flirting with pretty girls with a piña colada in hand, sifting through vintage pieces, and finding a girlfriend who loves him enough to want to do the same! but even then, he didn't know how to get to that point. of course, the simple answer was money, but how he'll get that money was what spun at the forefront and lingered at the back of his mind.

though, this is daisuke we're talking about, he's sure this'll work out one way or another!

"girls like smart guys, right?" he'd ask himself as he browsed through a leaflet listing all the STEM subjects his mom had circled in neon red ink. daisuke's eyes drift to the arts and humanities page, wincing at the sheer lack of majors highlighted on that side—it was next to none. save for architecture, which his mom suggested he should try because of his drawing hobby, but, truth be told, it was just a hobby for him.

he loved the freedom of art, especially doodling. it was a space for him to explore whatever wacky design popped into his mind. he'd look at a simple object, darting his eyes to several others, and merge it all into a story of sorts. whether it be a turtle-pig fishing for sentient crackers on a wooden boat or an intergalactic wasteland where sweets colonized spices, it was his favorite pasttime. so, the possibility of having that be ruined by conforming to another person's rules and regulations wasn't for him.

he once suggested studying fashion. assorting clothing pieces, designing looks, and learning its history was a genuine passion of his, but one look at his parents' faces was enough for him to quickly drop it.

daisuke has fixed cars in the past—not fully, but he's helped his dad and a couple of neighbors for some extra dough, and has managed to learn a thing or two.

he was pretty good at math and physics, preferring the latter of the two because he actually got to apply that math into scenarios much more interesting than 'find the radius of a hemisphere of volume 80 cm^3.'

so, when daisuke's mom learns of pony express' last-minute aerospace mechanic internship, she's ecstatic, excitedly telling him to prepare his resume because her son is going to space! after all, her boy got the brains for it.

daisuke genuinely looked forward to this opportunity as well. however, funnily enough, he was terrified of outer space. though he was weirdly okay with the unknown depths of the ocean, the galaxy? that was a different story. at least, if he were drowning in the sea, there was a higher chance of him surviving than choking out in space. he shivered at the thought.

nonetheless, daisuke focused on the positives. "holy shit, what if there are alien beaches with hot ALIEN babes?!"

however, his cv wasn't all that impressive by pony express' standards. so, out of sheer desperation, his mom used a couple of her connections to secure that spot for him, but daisuke doesn't know about this. he thinks his smarts alone got him the job.

she's so adamant about his education because she fears for him, like any parent would. she doesn't want daisuke to suffer financially the same way her and her husband did growing up—it was her nightmare, actually. so, hopefully, with enough prayer and preparation, this will benefit him greatly. (oh... if only she knew).

before his space trip, daisuke's dad treated them all to a 5-day family holiday out in california, letting daisuke choose most of the activities, aka revel in his inner child via arcades and amusement parks. he actually made 2 friends, both in separate places, who'd accompany him whenever his parents got too tired from walking or couldn't bare the insane waiting lines (which was 90% of the time).

his dad had been secretly saving for this ever since daisuke was a kid, wanting to give his son the best birthday an 18-year-old could ever want.

while they've gotten richer over the years, his dad constantly struggled to feel secure in their wealth, feeling as though they could lose it at any time like his family had back then.

★ the tulpar.

upon arriving, daisuke didn't realize that he was a very late addition to the team. he noticed a slight hesitancy in everyone, which made him feel awkward, but in classic daisuke fashion, he shrugged it off and tried his best to get on everyone's good side.

(he definitely vomitted in his mouth soon after take-off).

daisuke quickly befriended everyone. the easiest was curly. he was the captain, after all, and the friendliest and handsomemest boss he'd ever met. even though it was pretty obvious that curly initially tensed at the lack of proper planning from pony express' end, he soon forgot it when daisuke eased into the crew just fine, impressed with how optimistic he'd been.

then, it was anya, who was a little quiet at first, but when she got used to his chipper nature, she had no trouble giggling with daisuke. she's glad to have someone other than curly to have fun with during their game nights, and even curly wasn't the easiest to play with because of how frequently he'd doze off in between turns, drool already dripping down his light beard. so, daisuke was a massively fresh change. he was energized and dramatic, passionately involving himself in the game and sneakily cheating whenever anya was getting a little too close to winning.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

curly called out for anya, asking where she had put his sleeping medication. anya lifted her view off of the board, her finger still holding her chin, and turned to curly, whom she gave instructions to.

daisuke and anya sat on the ground in front of the lounge couch, which swansea sprawled himself on—arms folded over his belly—as he dozed to sleep, his quiet snore growing louder by the minute. daisuke looked at anya, who was now bantering back and forth with their captain, and a mischievous grin inched up his cheeks.

with a very "inconspicuous" whistle, daisuke swiftly switched the positions of her queen and his bishop, shifting his eyes everywhere to ensure no one had seen the evil he'd done.

as anya's laugh died down and brought her focus back to the game, she moved her knight to somewhere on the board, not noticing the changes. then, as ego fueled his chest, daisuke took out her king.

"check and mate, anya." he proudly smiled, flipping his hair. he flicked open his fingers and spread his arms away from the table, figuratively dropping an explosive as he mouthed a boom.

"WHAT?!" anya exclaimed, her brows knit up her forehead as she scrutinized the chess pieces.

swansea snorted awake, startled by the sudden noise. "hah?! oh, what...? wh-what happened, where were we?"

bemusement painted her face when she realized what had happened. she pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at the cheater and pointed at daisuke, wagging her finger, "you did something, didn't you?"

daisuke stifled his laugh, remaining nonchalant and poker-faced as he shrugged. "i have no idea what you're talking about."

anya and daisuke just "argued." anya flailed her arms at the monochrome pieces, while daisuke found it increasingly hard not to burst into chuckles.

swansea lifted his back off the sofa, his spine resounding with a loud pop. in his neutral grumble, he said, "looks like daisuke won fair and square to me." then he went back to napping, flopping his neck onto the headrest.

anya was gagged, feeling like she'd gone crazy, so, daisuke finally cracked and cackled, falling to his side as he smacked the floor with tears in his eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

surprisingly enough, it was jimmy with whom he got on good terms with next. well, good enough terms with. they rarely ever talked. their conversations were limited to offhand encounters if they were the only ones near each other, where daisuke asked simple things about his life, followed by jimmy's cold hum.

so, as to not make things awkward, majority of what they discussed related to the tulpar and its workings. (jimmy secretly enjoyed it, though, feeling like he was more important than curly because daisuke would go to him for these types of questions, besides swansea. even though, the reality was that daisuke liked curly way more for how much he could joke around and still found room for professionalism.)

then, there was swansea. daisuke's favorite person, and his one and only mentor!

it felt nice for him to hang out with someone like his parents, except he was more wrinkly, irritable, and meaner than them. sometimes swansea's jabs can sting, but daisuke knows he means well. (then again, daisuke feels that way about everyone, and he's not sure whether that's a good or bad thing.)

despite his clumsiness and how often his mind drifts off to fantasies of breathing in tropical air with bikini-clad ladies surrounding him, he's learned so much from swansea.

it's not just about mechanics, but about life, his experiences and what all the good, bad, and ugly mean to him. without giving too much away about what he's been through, daisuke still managed to infer a couple of things.

albeit, he can be hard to understand. while swansea's advice is straightforward, he is in a descriptively convoulted way. so daisuke could only fully process it when he's lounging on the couch with swansea, taking in every word and, for once in his life, shutting up—which has only happened a couple of times, but hey, who says daisuke can't maneuver his way for more?

he hopes swansea will write him an extensive letter of recommendation and not mention all the times he's given him the wrong wrench, that one foam incident, or his ramblings of how he lowkey highkey wants to be a model, to which swansea would slowly blink at him for.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you want to be a model? for what?" swansea inquires, standing with crossed arms as he watches over daisuke adjusting a screw.

"well, you know, for fashion! getting all dressed up n' stuff, my picture being taken as i pose for the camera." daisuke momentarily stopped twisting the bolt and posed for swansea, smoldering as he folded his arms, definitely not imitating the old man.

swansea just rolled his eyes and told him to get back to work, putting his hands in his pockets instead. "so why'd you pick fixing metal junk instead?"

daisuke paused, ruminating on his following words. "i dunno, my parents want me to be an engineer, which is, like, super cool and all! and i do want to be one... it's just, it'd be nice to try other things i'm good at and see where they'll go, you know? you get me, right, swansea?" he went back to fidgeting with the pipe.

swansea stood there, softly nodding to himself. "i mean, they have a point—torx, kid, not hex," swansea pointed at the other screwdriver in the toolbox next to daisuke, "they don't want you risking unstable work and have no means of supporting yourself."

daisuke ate his lips, and swansea could see him grow smaller by the second. he sighed, "but, i'm not saying that you can't pursue that. you should, at some point, but my daughter's done it before, and she says it's not an easy world—"

"she's done whAT?!" daisuke brightened, nearly dropping the screw in his hand.

"did you even hear a thing i said?" swansea frowned, instinctively crouching down to cup his hand under where the bolt almost slipped.

daisuke nodded, "yeah, yeah, i know, but that is so cool! omg, can she hook me onto some agencies? does she know any? please, swan—!"

"slow down, kid..." swansea unintentionally chuckled, pulling the tool in daisuke's hand back to the pipe. he shook his head and actually smiled, albeit small. it nearly made daisuke even more happy than he was about the news.

"look, like she said, it's not all fun and games but it is possible to be successful. you've just got to be serious, like you should be..." he taps on the metal, "...here."

"okayyyy..." daisuke heaved, defeated by the present realities.

there was a beat of silence. swansea stretched his neck from shoulder to shoulder and spoke, "...but when we get back to earth, i'll try talking to her, 'kay? now, finish up; you've already been taking long as it is."

daisuke excitedly bobbed his head, saluted him, and returned to his task.

★ extras.

daisuke secretly holds 'runway shows' in his room, walking from one end to the other as he stuns his imaginary audience with all of his hawaiian tees.

no one knows this, but he often draws himself with his dream girl (aka you, heehee). there are so, so many pretty portraits of her. you can truly see the effort he's put in these with every graphite stroke and his smudged fingerprint dented into the paper.

brought so many rings and earrings on board, only to wear the same ones every day 💀.

he enjoys a lot of music genres but predominantly loves pop. i like to think that the game takes place in the retrofuturistic 1990s, so daisuke listens to a lot of sir mix-a-lot and backstreet boys. he probably plays 'livin' la vida loca' on repeat when he's cleaning up foam with swansea.

would not be surprised if he has played every pokemon game on his gameboy.

his sleeping quarters are near swansea's, so... you can imagine how quiet he needs to be when he "relieves" himself (which makes the nsfw section even more embarrassing for daisuke, lmfao).

nsfw.

when daisuke finally realized that he would be alone.. in a room... in a spaceship... for a year... with no parents there to barge in, he tried so fucking hard to hold back the devilish smile crawling up his mouth (think knee surgery grinch). oooof course, he was going to abuse the living shit out of this freedom.

as told by swansea, daisuke "only thinks with his downstairs longnose." so, it's safe to say that he frequently masturbates, to no one's surprise 💀.

however, he needs the physical visual of something to really get off. he can still cum without it. but, as much as daisuke enjoys his fantasies of paradise, it takes an excruciatingly long time, and it never feels as good when he orgasms.

(if mouthwashing took place in our year, he definitely gets super turned on by nsfw audios. stuff like 'F4M gentle mommy praises you' would absolutely be his go-to genre.)

so he brought a portable tv and vhs player, secretly stashing all his favorite porn mags and cassette tapes, along with some new ones he's been dying to watch. the majority are vanilla, with a few bordering on bdsm, a couple of threesomes (it didn't really matter to him if they were FFM or MMF), and solo girls touching themselves as they tell him to follow their instructions, but a lot of them had an overt femdom feel, save for a few.

he tends to jerk off really fast and struggles to pace himself in a way where he doesn't greedily let himself reach his high, so closing his eyes as he listens to porn helps him extend that to a little close to 20 minutes. otherwise, this guy is done in maybe under 4—7 if he's lucky.

(unsurprisingly, he once came in less than 30 seconds from just teasing his tip. he got so embarrassed that he hid himself under the covers, shoving his face into the pillow, for being so pathetically easy).

even then, he can go so many rounds. when there's nothing much to do on the ship, and everyone was too involved in their own business to pay attention to him, he's had a few times where he used 3 of his 5 resting hours just jerking off back-to-back.

no matter how he toys with his dick, he'd always end up an adorable whimpering mess. he was naturally sensitive; pools of pre-cum would easily drip out of his tip after a few strokes, and his thighs would involuntarily shudder with each pump. however, that meant his moans would become so unbelievably loud that his whines could carry through the thickest of walls—unsurprisingly, very in-character for daisuke.

so he's grown used to muffling his mouth moments before he cums. either his palm pressed over his panting parted lips, or he'd resort to smushing his face into his pillows whenever it overwhelmed every inch of his body.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke lay on his side. with one hand tucked under his cheek, gripping strands of his hair, and the other vigorously milking his cock from base to tip, his half-naked body trembled on his bed. the patterned covers sprawled away from the beaded sweat rolling off his inner thighs, and all that filled the air were daisuke's desperate, high-pitched gasps.

a rising heat inched within his abdomen, and his wrist spasmed as every jerk reached speeds unbeknownst to him. daisuke pathetically attempted to smother whatever incoherent mewls escaped his throat, biting down on the skin of his lightly chapped lips, but it was futile. he was starting to lose it.

so, he rolls. he rolls his face into his pillow and props his knees on the mattress, brandishing his ass in the air with his back arched towards the tulpar's metal ceiling.

hoping he's suppressed himself enough, daisuke began whimpering out loud, cushioning his cries as he touched himself as fast as his slippery penis would let him. a list of curses fled his lips as he tried visualizing someone hover over him, grabbing hold of his drenched dick, pinning his head further into the pillow, and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

after a couple of twists of his tip, he finally spilled all over the bed, his drool following suit. his cock twitched upwards, lathering bits of his cum all over his stomach, and with one final huff, daisuke dropped himself onto the mattress, sighing into its warmth—too dazed to notice the subdued thumping of footsteps beyond his door.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

he hasn't gotten the opportunity to have sex yet, nor has he charmed anyone enough to get his dick sucked or touched, but he was very close to it!

once, at a party, daisuke got to make out with a girl from his last year in high school, but this guy would not stop talking after each kiss. all that came out of his mouth were the awkwardest of one-liners and rambles full of compliments. while he thought it was cute, the girl quickly got annoyed. after a few more heated swaps of spit, she left the closet they were in, and daisuke just stood there, embarrassed, stuffing his face in some random person's sweater.

though it was only one failed (but he likes to think it was successful) make-out sesh, he loves the act of it so much. the feeling of a girl pressing him up against the wall, no matter how tall or short she was, clutching onto his shirt as their tongues deepened. the thought of their crotches sliding against one another got him all hot and bothered.

but, admittedly, daisuke wished she stayed (not necessarily the same girl in particular) because he loved the idea of him yapping continuously about something as she touched him more and more, latching her teeth onto his neck as her fingers rubbed circles on his bulge. he'd falter, his words blending into an incoherent whimpery mush as she lifted up his shirt and made her way down his collarbone.

oh, how he fantasizes about receiving and giving hickeys. he'll abide by how his dream girl would want to be bitten down, but he wanted to be marked.

daisuke's always been super into teethy indentations on his stomach and darkened spots scattered all over his chest. so he's practiced on his forearm, watching his saliva coat his bite, imagining how prickly it'd feel on his neck. but what he loves most is its meaning, how it symbolizes that he belonged to a girl and she belonged to him. it always made him feel warm and gushy inside.

lowkey feel like he enjoys dry-humping objects. if he sees a soft enough edge with ridges all over or a pillow that's looking softer than it should, he's rutting his clothed dick against it. but because of that, he gets incredibly horny when he starts focusing a little too much on the corner of any table.

anya once had to snap him back into reality after he intently watched jimmy put his back against a particular part of the kitchen counter. daisuke's face flushed, remembering last night.

he had to take his time thrusting his wet bulge against it. standing on his tip-toes, swaying his hips like a seesaw, as he grips the bottom of the counter for stability, for he was losing it. the way his cum would build up was so different from jerking off. it felt like rushing water pushing against a dam, but it was slow, like waves on a shore inching closer to his feet. this would make him cry, and he'd constantly moan in hiccups, short bursts of suppressed whimpers because of how much effort this took. however, he makes sure his mess stays in his pants. so, when he does cum, it would only paint a large stroke over his boxers as his semen dripped all the way down to his knee.

daisuke brought a vibrator and fleshlight on board, which he bought using some of his earnings from the cars he fixed back on earth.

he fucks his fleshlight like a rabbit when topping, depriving himself from all thought as he picks up the pace. but when he's bottoming, he starts lifting his legs off the ground and spreads them in the air, sending his brain over the moon.

when he tried the vibrator for the first time, it's like he entered a whole new realm. he fantasizes being on his stomach, arching his back with his ass in the air, his dick dangling in between his thighs as a girl mercilessly presses a vibrator up against his parts—cumming a messy puddle into his sheets. even though he could still do it on his own, the thought of anyone on laundry duty questioning the large wet stain was too embarrassing to bear.

it's ironic, considering how much he's into risky semi-public quickies. when he gets so pent up in the middle of organizing tool boxes and listening to swansea's rants, he will excuse himself to go to the bathroom. swansea would just roll his eyes and go, "yeah, yeah. do whatever you want, kid. just don't take forever." whether or not swansea actually knew what he was really doing, daisuke will never know—and, frankly, he'd much rather not.

he'd play with himself, alone. running to the tools closet with his back against the door, hand shoved into his boxers, his slick coating his palm as he clutched his shirt, using it as a fabric muffle for his shakey moans, revealing his heaving chest and hardened nipples. his eyes squeeze shut as his eyebrows knit in ecstasy.

(when the crash happens and he's forced to sleep in the lounge, he often scurries away to empty areas around the tulpar when swansea is too drunk out of his mind to notice daisuke's random disappearances.)

while he's not exactly sure where his mommy thing came from (don't look into that too deeply), he really indulges himself in it. he likes to re-enact his sexual scenarios when he touches himself, saying his lines out loud as if the person he was imagining were with him. he'd whine for mommy to let him cum, and when he got real close, he'd call himself a good boy like it were a mantra.

do you guys think he might like being called 'puppy'? i think it's very likely. he reads as the type of person who thrives off praise and massively enjoys any petname a person could give him.

i think he fantasizes about a bunch of women using him instead of him using women, which is what horny guys his age probably think of more often. but no, daisuke finds it so fucking hot to be used like a toy by more than one person, not knowing what pleasure he'll feel next.

but he's unsure if he would actually like that to happen in real life. sure, it gets his gears going, but he knows he'd be good with his one and only (hypothetical and future) girlfriend doing whatever she wants to him.

[i'm not sure if anyone could tell, but i got pretty lazy towards the end 🫠 if there are any scenarios that you want me to expand into single one-shots then feel free to request! so far, i have two other reqs and 3 original works, so it might take a while, especially because i have irl things to work on. —iris🌠]

[bluebeary-jay]

Be still my foolish heart (don't ruin this on me)

Neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: you and Joel have been neighbors for a while but despite your mutual interest in one another, you never crossed this line. until, after one tense situation, Joel slips up (based on this wonderful request!)

Tags: friends to lovers, love confessions, fluff and angst, Joel is your sexy neighbor you shamelessly drool over, also his toolbelt is an important character in the fic (don't judge me)

Warnings: angst, 'nice guy' alert 🙄, attempted assault (stopped by Joel), some nsfw content but not actual smut (yar girl is gettin there 😌)

Word count: 6.2K

A/N: hiiii my darlings!! sorry for the wait, i know it's been a long time but life was crazy. here's sth i've been workin for a looong time and honestly i stared at it for so long i no longer know if i'm proud of it or not 🙈 anyway, i really hope you guys will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕

“I really don’t know how to thank you, Joel. This is incredible.”

Joel watched, slightly embarrassed, as you walked around the table with a wide, bright smile. You gripped one of the legs – the one that was previously crookedly attached and broke down when you put something heavier on the counter – and tested its stability. After a successful inspection you looked up at him.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nah, nothin’ of the sort.” He waved his hand, feeling a big lump in his throat when you directed that pretty smile of yours at him. “M’just glad I could help.”

“You didn’t have to fix this, too, though.” You brushed the edge of the table which Joel sanded so you wouldn’t get a splinter from the rough surface. His eyes followed your fingertips before he coughed.

“Didn’t want you to hurt yourself. This side was practically smashed up, after all…”

“Still, I didn’t even need to ask you.” You shook your head in thoughts before glancing at him with gratitude. “Thanks again.”

“You really gotta stop thankin’ me.” Joel started to gather his things into the toolbox and wiped his palms on his pants (certainly not because they were slick with sweat). “It was a piece of cake.”

“But, you know.” You tilted your head to the left and right, scrunching your nose playfully, and it was so fucking adorable that Joel thought his heart was going to give out. “You already fixed the sink in my kitchen, that hole in the wall, my door, and now my table… Are you sure I’m not leeching off your generosity?”

A half-smile found its place on Joel’s face, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “M’sure. It’s only fair since we’re neighbors, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl.

Joel never knew if he wasn’t crossing the line by calling you that. You never gave any sign of discomfort or disgust when he did, but he also recognized that regardless of your reaction, he should stop. He couldn’t deny that his old heart harbored an embarrassingly big crush on you – after all, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on – but it wasn’t right to think about you in that way.

If he only knew that every time he let those words of endearment slip, your heart started to do crazy somersaults.

Joel Miller was an extremely handsome man, there was no denying that. And with his deep drawl, the salt-and-pepper hair, the warm, brown eyes and that dangerous smirk he sometimes sent in your direction… it was no wonder you fell for him.

It also didn’t help that he was so kind, always ready and eager to help you with the smallest inconvenience. Sometimes it made you want to smash something in your house yourself, just to have an excuse for him to come over again and for you to be able to watch him work.

But you weren’t that desperate, yet. Yet.

Your daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a series of knocks on your front door. Both your heads snapped in the direction of the sound, but when you recognized the familiar pattern of it, your mood dampened in an instant.

Joel noticed the change in your expression, of course, and immediately stood up, leaving the toolbox on the floor.

“What is it?” he asked with a hint of alert in his gruff voice, but you shook your head.

“It’s nothing. Don’t go yet, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You exited the room before he could ask another question, and Joel furrowed his brows. He stayed rooted in spot, listening to your heavy step as you walked to the door and opened it. And then… he heard a male voice that started to say something to you.

Joel couldn’t help but grind his teeth as he finished gathering his stuff, ready to go back home. It was the second time that some man came to visit you while you had him over, and the bitterness he felt in his mouth was even more noticeable than on the previous occasion.

He knew you were quite popular in Jackson, especially with boys your age. There was always someone offering to buy you a drink or dance whenever you went out with your friends, and once Joel had to even step in when two drunk guys kept pestering you. But as much as it pained him, some of those men who showed genuine interest in you were quite nice. And good-looking.

And a lot younger than him.

He knew very well that he was too old for you. He knew that he shouldn’t fantasize about sharing a life with you, and that thinking of any form of intimacy between you and him was making him a big old creep, but no matter how many times he swore to himself it’ll be the last, he could not stop. You were just so beautiful, so sweet and so nice…

He saw your smiling face when he went to bed late at night, and imagined your body beside him when he woke up early in the morning. He looked at your house on his way to work and wondered if you were eating breakfast already, taking a shower or still sleeping peacefully amidst the many blankets he saw once on your bed. He felt a rush of energy and endorphins every time you knocked on his door, asking him to help you with something, and it only enhanced his already existent protectiveness toward you.

Suddenly, Joel heard a raised male voice from the porch, which instantly got his guard up. He quickly followed the sound, and upon rounding the corner he saw you trying to close the door on Jack, a boy he recognized but never talked to. He saw him a couple of times at the bar, though he wasn’t one of those bothering you and never seemed to give anyone any trouble.

Still, you looked really uncomfortable, so when your and Joel’s eyes met, he nodded reassuringly and took his place in front of you.

“Is somethin’ the matter?” he asked dryly. The sight of him took Jack aback and he opened his mouth, looking lost for a good moment. Joel raised his eyebrows, and the young man cleared his throat.

“Nothing at all. We were just chattin’.” Then Jack looked over Joel’s shoulder at you, completely ignoring the other man. “What the fuck is Miller doing in your house, anyway?”

You stammered, but Joel kept his cool, leaning against the doorframe casually. Jack was tall and well-built, but still smaller than Joel, and he made use of this fact to intimidate the boy to the extreme.

“Mr Miller is helpin’ her with the sink that needs fixin’,” Joel answered instead with a pang of irritation. “And you’re kinda interruptin’.” Jack didn’t move, and Joel clenched his jaw. “Scurry. Now.”

The boy huffed, murmuring something under his breath before he bid you a grudging adieu. Joel shut the door behind him with more force than he intended and took a second to calm his breathing before turning back to you.

“Sorry if that was too harsh–”

“No, don’t apologize.” You sighed tiredly and went to the living room, plopping down on the couch. “It’s okay. Maybe he’ll back off a little.”

Joel bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should ask the question that was gnawing at him mercilessly.

“Are…” he started, and you lifted your head. “I mean, are you two…”

“No!” you quickly answered, blushing a little to Joel’s surprise. “No, no, nothing of the sort. He asked me out and I told him I’m not interested, but he still tries to…” You waved your arm in the direction when he saw the youngster last. “I don’t know, convince me?”

Joel sat down next to you, clasping his hands together. “Well… if he ever gives you any trouble, you lemme know, alrigh’?”

A small smile spread across your face when you tilted your head to look at him.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then a playful glint appeared in your eyes, and your smile turned mischievous. “...Mr Miller.”

A breathless laugh escaped Joel, and he dragged his hand over his face, praying that he managed to stifle a groan wanting to escape his chest. He shook his head to regain some clarity, but could still feel all the blood in his body rushing down. It didn’t help that your couch was too small, and your knees were touching – though Joel couldn’t tell if it happened when he sat down or a little bit later.

Fuck.

“Shut up,” he just murmured, not looking at you in fear you’ll see what your words did to him. “I tried to make him leave quicker.”

“And he did. And I think you deserve a reward for your help.”

You stood up and for a second Joel panicked. A reward, you said.

He couldn’t help the images that flooded his brain in that moment – of you on your knees in front of him, or bent over the table he just fixed. His eyes went to your thighs, and his own flexed involuntary when he envisioned how you’d feel underneath him, what sweet sounds he could coax out of you, how soft your skin would be in those places you kept covered…

But then you walked past him, and he snapped out of the naughty daydreams.

“Wh-where are you goin’?” he asked, his voice strained, and you looked over your shoulder with an oblivious smile.

“I made a cake this morning. I’m gonna bring you a piece, yeah?”

You didn’t wait for an answer, and just left the room with pep in your step.

Joel groaned and let his head fall back, covering the redness of his cheeks with his hands.

Idiot.

Almost two weeks have passed since the last time you asked for his help with something, and surprisingly, Joel was okay with that. After that embarrassment he experienced in his own mind, he told himself that it would be prudent to distance himself from you for a little bit. At least until he could act normally around you.

He still thought about you constantly, that he couldn’t help. Every time he saw you in town he instantly felt lighter, but so very often you were accompanied by another man – and no matter if you seemed comfortable with the attention or not, Joel always had this urge to come over and protect you from any unwanted suitors.

He was being ridiculous, he knew that. You didn’t like him the way he liked you, and even if he somehow grew a pair and told you about his feelings, a pretty and young girl like you would never be interested in someone who could be her father’s age.

The thought of you thinking of him as a father figure churned up his guts, making him feel sick. Jesus Christ.

But it still did nothing to weaken his infatuation, and when you finally knocked on his door again, asking if he could fix the rack in your room, he didn’t even hesitate before agreeing.

So here you both were. Joel, looking at the problem at hand, and you, looking at (none-the-wiser) Joel.

“S’nothin’ big,” he finally said after some examination. “I’ll replace the shelf and reaffix it to the wall better. Shouldn’t take long.”

You nodded, but truthfully you were only half-listening. The sight of Joel in your bedroom was far too distracting.

It’s been so long since Joel was a guest in your house – well, only a couple of weeks tops – but you missed seeing him in your private space. Though one could say, he never truly left with how often you thought about him.

So maybe that’s why you were so shameless with your staring.

His broad shoulders were to die for, and you bit your lip absentmindedly as your eyes wandered across his muscular back and forearms, usually hidden under the sleeves. You knew you shouldn’t be ogling your neighbor who was nice enough to lend you a helping hand whenever you needed, but… well, a little admiring wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

And there was a lot to admire.

“You listenin’ to me?”

The brutal wake-up call of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you blush wildly and your body hot with embarrassment at being caught staring.

Okay, maybe it would hurt someone.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, feeling your whole neck heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh. I understand.”

Joel’s lips stretched into a lopsided smile, and he turned to face you fully.

“I asked if you have some nails in the house,” he repeated, not breaking eye contact. If you allowed yourself to be delusional, you’d say his voice sounded almost… flirtatious. But that was probably only your head telling you what you wanted to hear.

“Yeah…” you breathed distractedly, but then shook your head quickly. “I mean, no. No, I don’t.”

Joel smirked, stepping closer to you and making you swallow heavily. Your gaze once again dropped to his strong arms, down to his big hands and… fuck. He had his thumbs hooked in his tool belt, already hanging low on his waist, and it made him look so ridiculously hot.

Lord have mercy.

“What got ya so distracted, sweet girl?”

Have fuckin’ mercy.

“Nothing!” you said, a bit louder than you intended, crossing your arms over your chest to do something with this splitting tension in your body. “I was just looking at… the shelf.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot upright. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t believe you. “The shelf,” he repeated blankly, and you nodded, trying to appear calm despite feeling like you were going to burst into flames if he kept looking at you like that. But then Joel chuckled, and his eyes turned as warm as always. “M’only teasin’. Stop lookin’ so scared.”

“I’m not–” you started, but your lips also spread into a grin when you saw his genuine smile. “God, you’re insufferable. Will you fix it or not?”

“So demandin’,” Joel mused, shaking his head and walking out of the room. “I’m gonna go get the nails from my house. Be right back.”

You whispered under your breath something he didn’t hear, but it made him smile to himself nonetheless.

It was so easy to slip back into this playful banter with you, Joel thought as he made his way back home. Maybe things between you two won’t be as awkward anymore (though he was aware all this awkwardness was his fault), and he could go back to being your friend.

No matter that he wished he could be something more. No, it wasn’t right to think that way. What you two had was enough.

Still, as he looked for those damn nails, he couldn’t get out of his mind the way that adorable blush spread across your face. And how your eyes lingered on his figure when he looked at you. But no, surely he was only imagining things.

…right?

Joel sighed, closing the door behind him and going back toward your house, his thoughts already on the best way to fix that shelf of yours and maybe stabilize it a bit more, because by the look of how it hung on the wall, it was only a matter of time until he’ll have to visit again.

Or maybe he’ll leave it be. Only to have an extra excuse to see you sooner rather than later.

He rolled his eyes at his own musings, but the train of his thoughts abruptly stopped when he saw your front door slightly opened. He slowed down, wondering if you went after him… but no, there was no sign of you anywhere, and he was pretty sure he closed it on his way out.

And then he heard a faint sound of glass shattering.

Joel’s mind went completely blank. In a blink of an eye he stormed into the house, his survival instincts formed over the last twenty years kicking in and screaming for him to find you, to make sure you’re safe and unharmed.

But your bedroom was empty and when Jeol yelled your name, no one answered him. You were within the safe walls of Jackson, and there was no way the infected or raiders could ambush you, but still Joel felt an icy wave of panic washing over him, his mind providing him with terrible scenarios that would explain the open door and your silence.

Then a small thud reverberated from the other room, and Joel’s legs carried him there without a second thought.

He slammed the door open, and his eyes immediately locked on the man holding you against the wall. Your assaulter – that fucking kid, Jack – had one hand covering your mouth, the other forearm pinning your shoulders to the wall. His knee was between your legs and Joel could see you standing on your tippy toes, trying to pull away as far as possible.

Joel’s hands were itching to get rid of the threat that guy was for you, but first his gaze involuntarily shifted to your face – and his heart clenched painfully when he noticed your terrified expression and tears streaming down your cheeks.

The blinding rage in Joel’s veins almost charred him from the inside out and he felt like he was about to explode from the fury seething inside of him. In two long strides he ran towards Jack and all but threw him off of you, stepping to the side to act as a shield between you and him.

“You just signed your death sentence, kid,” he growled and punched the other man in the face when he tried to get up. You screamed behind him, but Joel ignored it, the need to beat the living daylights out of this little shit almost overwhelming his senses.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jack yelled from the floor, holding a hand in front of his face. “You broke me fucking nose, man!”

It was true, the blood was flowing freely from the already swelling nose, but it didn’t feel like enough. Joel had to utilize every fiber of his willpower to keep himself from venting his wrath on this kid. He knew damn well it wouldn’t end well for either of them – Jackson had hard laws when it came to violence.

“You deserve a lot worse,” Joel gritted his teeth and motioned with his head towards the exit. “Now get out.”

“She wanted it!” Jack shouted, as if he hoped that his explanations would make the situation any better. He wiped the blood flowing from his nose, glaring at you angrily. “Stupid bitch,” he snarled, “can’t make up her mind. Didn’t I do enough for you?! I was nice, always helped you–”

“Get the fuck out of here before I break your jaw,” Joel cut in, clenching his fists and taking a step forward. The young fucker seemed to size him up for a couple of seconds, probably wondering if starting a fight was worth it, but eventually spluttered contemptuously.

“Fine,” he snarled, and then looked below Joel’s arm at you. “I wouldn’t want to catch somethin’ from you, either way, if you’re already fucking this old geezer.”

Your face, and also Joel’s, grew hot – but while yours was red from embarrassment and shame, his was burning from barely concealed rage.

“OUT!!” he shouted, his thundering and powerful voice making both you and Jack flinch. His face was twisted in fury and the other man must’ve realized that staying here longer would only mean worse for him, because he scrambled to his feet and ran out without another word.

The front door slammed shut behind him, and for a few seconds a heavy silence hung in the air.

Joel took a steadying breath, trying to restore his cool, but he felt himself shaking from rage. If he didn’t come back in time… if he was a minute late, he didn’t want to think what that bastard would’ve done to you.

Trying to shut down the intrusive thoughts, Joel turned around and knelt by where you were still seated on the ground. He couldn’t will the tension in his body to lessen, and his muscles and tendons were so taut that he thought they were going to snap. But he forced his hands to unclench before he gently cupped your face.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked quietly, his brows knitted in worry. You shook your head, but your eyes were filled with tears, and it felt like something was ripping Joel’s chest apart.

“He pushed me. And I… the glass.”

You lifted your hand and Joel winced when he saw a shard of green glass – from the flower vase which previously stood on the table – embedded in your palm. A trickle of blood was running down your wrist, but he presumed there would be much more once he took it out.

“It’s alright, sweet girl. I’ll take care of it.” I’ll take care of you. “Let’s go to the kitchen so I can patch you up, ‘kay?”

You nodded, letting him pull you to your feet.

Once you made your way there and you instructed him on where some bandages and disinfectant were, Joel gently grabbed your waist and hoisted you up onto the table, seemingly without any problem at all. You blushed when you felt his touch, for a moment forgetting about the pain piercing your palm, but the gravity of what you just experienced crept up on you again soon enough.

Joel noticed your silence as he carefully removed the shard and bandaged your hand. He didn’t want to imagine what exactly happened when he was gone, but it was obvious it shook you quite strongly. So when he saw tears welling in your eyes, he threw all caution to the wind and wrapped his arms tightly around you.

Not one ounce of regret had time to haze his mind over, because you instantly clung to him, too, letting out a shaky exhale. Joel hugged you tightly, letting go of all the tension and fear in his body. He was never this close to you before, and he allowed himself to indulge in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your arms around him, reminding him that you’re okay, that you’re with him now. He breathed in your scent, hiding his nose in the crown of your head and pressing his lips to your hair, hoping to calm you down.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here, you’re safe now.”

You tensed, but Joel just held you closer, not realizing he said something wrong. He planted a soft kiss on your hairline, sighing when you started moving your hands up and down his back soothingly. Despite standing up, Joel felt relaxed like never before, like he could fall asleep right here and now.

That is, until you spoke up.

“What did you say?”

…shit.

Joel opened his mouth, then closed it almost immediately. His eyes raced wildly across the room, trying to think of what to say, but he didn’t let go of you. There might’ve been a selfish reason behind his inaction, but mostly he didn’t want you to see his flustered face.

“Nothin’,” he answered after a pregnant and rather uncomfortable pause, and cleared his throat. “You don’t wanna… t’was nothin’ important.”

Maybe you really didn’t hear him. It would have saved him a lot of trouble and embarrassment, and probably another two weeks of his life of avoiding you. But judging by the silence in the room, he wasn’t so lucky.

“Did you…” You swallowed before finishing softly, “call me ‘baby’?”

Joel cringed, closing his eyes tightly, and prayed for some higher power to smite him off the surface of the Earth. But again – luck wasn’t on his side.

The silence prolonged, and you finally grew impatient. You pulled away, looking up to scan his face. “Joel?”

“I’m sorry, it… slipped out,” he mumbled, all red and not meeting your eyes. That was a shame, because if he did find the courage to look at you, he would notice a small smile forming on your face as you regarded him.

“So I heard you correctly?” you asked again, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, yes you did. M’really sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’. I just tried to comfort you and– fuck,” he whispered to himself, lowering his hand but still not looking in your direction. “I, I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry, I can go…”

“No.” Your uninjured hand shot out and grabbed his shirt before you could process what you were doing. Joel glanced down at your fist clutching the material, and then back up into your wide eyes. “Please, no. Stay.”

His lips parted slightly at your request and unexplained (at least from his perspective) hope filling your gaze. He looked so adorable that you had never wanted to kiss him more than right now.

“Come closer,” you pleaded, barely louder than a whisper.

Joel obliged, letting your hand guide him. You gently pulled him to you, so that he was almost standing between your legs, and your fingers loosened their hold, now smoothing over the material of his shirt.

You took a deep breath and leaned forward, bracing your weight on his chest. Joel looked puzzled by your behavior, but when he realized what you were doing, he stopped you gently by putting his own hand on your shoulder.

“No,” he whispered, his voice full of pain, but steady. “Don’t do that. You… you’re in a state of shock.”

“I know what I want,” you spoke equally quietly, staring at him with nothing but pure genuineness and need in your eyes. “And I want you, Joel.”

“Please, ba–” he cut himself off before he could finish this word. It pained him deeply to reject you, but he knew that if he let you kiss him, you’d regret it later. And that he wouldn’t be able to survive. “I’m sorry, sweet girl, but it wouldn’t be right. I don’t wanna be takin’ advantage of you.”

Your face fell in confusion and disappointment, but you didn’t let him go even when he put a light pressure on your hand.

“You never..” you gulped, searching his face, “thought about it? About… me, in that way?”

Christ, what was he supposed to say to that? He wouldn’t be able to lie to you, not if you kept looking at him with those innocent and full of desire eyes of yours.

“Don’t ask me.” Joel closed his eyes, the muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt your touch on the side of his face. “Please, don’t ask me.”

“Because I have,” you continued in a sudden rush of courage. “I think about you constantly, and about us. Every time I invite you over or see you in the town working... And I’m only saying all that, because I thought maybe… maybe you felt it, too. I think you do.” Joel didn’t answer, and you looked up at him with determination you didn’t really feel. “Tell me.”

Joel clenched his jaw, exhaling heavily, but didn’t pull away. He weighed the options in his mind while you waited patiently, and finally, his resolve cracked under your hopeful gaze.

“I think about you,” he began slowly, earnestly, “every night. Every fuckin’ night and day, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy, but that drawl of his so soft and delicious to your ears. “But I shouldn’t. You and I both know that.”

He still hasn’t looked your way. You tried to lean to the side to fit in his field of vision, but Joel turned away even more, attempting to take a step back. You grabbed his shirt again before he could do that, and he didn’t fight you.

“Why not?” you whispered, transfixed on his handsome features.

“‘Cause you deserve better. I’m way too old for you,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like you should know it already. “You have so many admirers who are probably much more fit for you, and it would be… it is so wrong that I’m lettin’ those thoughts linger.”

“I don’t want any of them, though.” Joel finally locked eyes with you, but still seemed conflicted. You slowly let go of his clothes and reached for his hands, then guided them to your cheeks. You saw his throat bob nervously when you placed them there and brushed his knuckles with your thumbs. “Look, it’s hard for me to open up, but… I really like you. Really.”

Joel swallowed heavily, his face contorted in pain – as if your words were wounding not only his soul, but his very flesh. Then the pressure on your cheeks became a little stronger, and he tentatively swiped his thumbs under your eyes in a loving manner. Your heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings as he slowly scanned your face for any sign of hesitancy, then let his eyelids drop and pressed his forehead to yours. You lifted your chin slightly, nudging his nose with the tip of yours.

“Call me that again,” you whispered pleadingly. His wooden, earthly scent was enveloping all your senses, making you feel so very calm and safe. You’d gladly lose yourself in him. “Please.”

Joel instantly knew what you meant. His resolve was wavering and his body giving in, but the doubt was still there in his mind. The fear that he was somehow reading you wrong.

“Don’t beg me, sweet girl.” His breath was on your lips, beckoning you even closer. “M’too weak for that.”

“Please,” you repeated more urgently, and when he didn’t move, you turned your head and pressed your lips to the inside of his wrist tenderly. “Joel.”

He cursed softly. It appeared that the tension between you both was getting to him, too, and Joel was losing the battle he fought with himself. He lowered his lips to the edge of your jaw, his pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy, almost as if he was under a spell. You whimpered when he withdrew one of his hands on your cheeks, but the loss was quickly replaced by relief when he moved it to the small of your back, pulling you closer and flush against his body.

“You sure about this?” he murmured lowly, making you shiver against him. His nose traveled along your jaw and the column of your neck, then back up until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I don’t want ya to regret it.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “Please, baby.”

Your plea sent a shiver down his spine. Joel couldn’t hold back anymore, didn’t want to. It was clear you wanted him, and he never was a strong enough man to deny you anything.

Your eyes met, and Joel took a second to get his heart under control. You were so beautiful, and your skin so soft under his touch… He tilted your chin up, barely able to comprehend that all of it was really happening, that it was you who put his hands on yourself. And you wanted him to kiss you.

For fuck’s sake, you begged him to.

All the remaining traces of his self-control evaporated in a heartbeat, and he pulled you in, pressing your body closer before bringing his lips to yours, locking them in a soft kiss.

His mouth molded perfectly to yours, causing you to sigh with relief at the gentle caress. You felt heat pooling in your stomach, and you were glad for sitting down because your weak knees would surely buckle under you in different circumstances. The intensity of the kiss gradually grew until it became so heated that you had to grab a fistful of Joel’s hair on the nape of his neck for support.

At one point, Joel pried your lips away, searching your eyes with concern. You worried that he was having second thoughts, but the longer he looked at you, the more his own irises darkened with lust and insatiable hunger, making your face burn like it was on fire. His clear want and the knowledge that you were the cause of it made you feel powerful, but somehow at the same time completely naked under his gaze.

Without any warning, he dived back in, his wide palm enveloping one side of your face while he tangled the other hand in your hair. He tugged on it, probably a little rougher than he intended, eliciting a needy moan from your chest. You instantly felt embarrassed about your response, but when you tried to pull away, Joel practically growled, not letting you turn away.

“S’alright, baby,” he rasped, trailing hot kisses down your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat. “Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me.”

You felt dizzy. Like he could make you melt from the tone of his voice alone.

Having his lips on yours felt better than you have ever imagined, and so perfect that you never wanted this moment to end. But one thought kept nagging at you, making it harder and harder to focus, and finally after some time Joel softly drew away. He sent you a soft, almost shy smile.

“What is it, sweetheart? Not havin’ second thoughts, I hope?”

It hit you in that moment that it wasn’t the first time he looked at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. You just never noticed before that he always looked at you this way.

“No, no,” you hurried to reassure him. “Just something… Something I wanted to do for a while.”

He raised his eyebrows playfully. “Somethin’ other than kissin’ your handsome neighbor?”

You clicked your tongue at his unexpected cockiness.

“Not exactly.” Your answer only made him more intrigued, and you grinned. “Indulge me and take a step back.”

Joel squinted suspiciously, but eventually humored you. You bit your lip, feeling giddy at finally having a chance to do something you thought about every time this infuriatingly handsome man was in your house.

His eyes followed the tip of your tongue when it ran across your bottom lip… and you took this moment to hook your thumbs on his tool belt and yank him forward.

Your lips connected again, though it was far from perfect – your teeth clashed together and your noses collided, causing you both to yelp in small pain and discomfort, but you didn’t let go of him. Your joy from this silliness lasted only a couple of seconds, though, because before long Joel started to laugh uncontrollably.

You huffed and tried to kiss him again, but he withdrew out of your reach, wrapping his arms around your waist with a big, goofy smile.

“Get back here.”

“What the hell was that, sweetheart?”

His eyes crinkled in amusement and you felt a bit foolish from what you just did. You turned your gaze down, but Joel lifted your chin with his fingertip, and you couldn’t help but smile, too, when you saw how happy he looked.

“It looked more romantic in my head,” you murmured with an awkward chuckle. “I actually wanted to do it the first time I saw you with that belt on.”

“S’that so?” Joel asked and kissed you briefly again, this time with a hint of hunger he was keeping at bay until now. “You like seein’ me in it?”

“I really, really do,” you whispered, hiding your face in his chest. “I don’t know why, but it look so fucking hot on you…”

“My dirty baby,” Joel purred into your hair. The bright grin on his face only grew when he heard you groaning in embarrassment. “Gimme a kiss.”

You didn’t move, not wanting to face him, so Joel opted to nuzzle the sensitive skin of your neck with his nose. “You’re adorable, y’know that? Don’t get all shy on me now, babygirl.”

A deep sigh escaped your chest and the tension in your shoulders lessened. Joel smirked into the crook of your neck, still planting soft kisses on your skin. His lower back was starting to ache from the position, but there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

And then all the discomfort in his body was put in the shade when you moaned quietly, pressing yourself against him more and wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck.

“Do you wanna get back to my room?” you asked after a while, and Joel hummed into your skin, now littered with love bites his lips and teeth left in their wake.

“You want me to fix that shelf of yours?” he teased back, making you snort.

“Just wanna cuddle with you. If that’s okay.” You nuzzled into his neck, and added quietly. “I can still feel his touch on me. And I only wanna feel you.”

Though Joel would be more than okay with that, by the sounds you were making and the look you were giving him, he doubted that’s all you’ll be doing. Still, his back hurt like hell and he almost let out a relieved groan at the thought of laying down.

“If you want me, baby. If you want me, then I’m all yours.”

Not a week has passed, and Joel had to get his toolbox out again – this time to fix your broken bed.

Though now he knew exactly what caused the damage.

[always-just-red]

@irandial and @micasosa34 requested a Rafayel version of this fic, so here it is!! This is a loose sequel, but mostly a spin-off? Also an emotional rollercoaster, sorry! (I fear I put too much of myself in this one, guys... there will be no beating the 'oh you are ACTUALLY in love with this man' allegations after this.....)

Fourth Wall (Rafayel Ver.)

Rafayel x Player!Reader 🔥

(Previous part/Sylus version here!)

Summary: You didn't think Rafayel would let you walk around an art gallery all by yourself, did you?

Genre: Angst! This is my revenge for the claw machine debacle (Checkmate, Rafayel!!! But also I'm sorry and I love you)

Warnings/Additional tags: player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, one instance of swearing

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You made it through about two rooms of the gallery before thinking about Rafayel.

You stand in front of a dark seascape: a night sky and a symmetrically black ocean framing the plight of a small fishing boat, adrift in the centre. The moon casts a pale, faraway light, and an orange lantern glows, drawing colour from the oppressive darkness— deep blues, and rich, shimmering turquoise, crested with white.

It should evoke some feeling of smallness, some respect for the vast indifference of the natural world, but no— your mind is set on the fictional artist who lives in your phone.

What would he think about it? What would he have to say?

At the moment, you suspect it would be some remark about how you should get your own opinion, rather than piggybacking his.

Still, it gives you an idea. You glance around self-consciously as you draw out your phone and earphones— tucking the latter into your ears as you offer a curt smile to the nearby gallery attendant. You’re not breaking any rules by loading up Love and Deepspace, but it feels slightly ridiculous in a place like this: full of real and honest things where you’re somehow lonely.

You log-in with a tap. “Let’s go to the beach,” Rafayel greets, his voice as warm as sunshine that melts a cold morning haze. “I never get tired of seeing the sunset there.”

You smile more sincerely, tousling his hair, but then it’s straight to business. You drag him into the AR Photobooth, directing him through a few poses until you find one you like: a duo pose. His fingers are meant to be around your chin, but without you, he seems to be pointing. Perfect, you shift— tilting your phone until the painting sits behind him.

He’s winking at you as he gestures to it, his face and body as still as marble.

You’re about to take the picture when a not-so-distant conversation strikes up, making you glance backwards. Another visitor is asking the attendant about a painting, and you lower your phone’s volume a notch so you can eavesdrop on them.

“This is one of Turner’s earliest paintings, y’know? He was young when he painted it. Like, super young.”

You freeze. The attendant and the visitor aren’t standing by a Turner painting; you are. Your gaze snaps back to your phone, drawn by the familiarity of the voice.

Rafayel’s turned away from you. He’s staring at the painting, one hand on his hip and the other up by his face, stroking his chin. He’s swaying on his feet gently, his head tilting as he takes in different parts of the seascape.

“You gonna take the picture, cutie?” he asks, glancing back at you with a knowing grin.

Your lips have parted slightly in surprise, but your finger manages to find the photo button. Rafayel returns to his candid observations just in time for your screen to flicker, mimicking a camera flash. 

“Ok, one more.” He turns around and settles into a new pose. You take another photo. “Nice,” he beams, “you’ll send those to me later, yeah?”

But you can’t—

“Relax, ok? I’m kidding. Now come on,” he pokes at the edge of your screen like a mime trapped by an invisible box. “Move this thing! I wanna see what else they’ve got here.”

You do move, but not to show him around. He gets a blurry view of the floor as you hurry over to a nearby bench, sinking down with a sigh because you can’t believe this is happening— again. With a few taps of your finger, you draw the curtains on Rafayel’s view to your world and return him to his.

“No, no, no! What?” he groans in disbelief, suddenly back in the Destiny Café. He throws himself into the armchair with reckless abandon— limbs sprawled— one hand over his face as though it would pain him to look on anything at all. “You find out I’m self-aware and the first thing you do is drag me back here? Where’s your heart? Your empathy? Your soul?”

You poke at his hand and he swats at the air like you’re bothering him.

“Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m busy, like, contemplating the futility of my existence?”

So dramatic! You consider closing the app out of spite, but this is Rafayel. You know Rafayel; look past the theatrics. It’s been, what— just over a month since Sylus first told you he’d seen through all of this? He said the others were lagging behind, but maybe…

Maybe they weren’t.

Shit. Maybe they weren’t.

You watch Rafayel, sunken down in one of two places you’ve seen him inhabit every day, every night, for almost a year. This café isn’t different from the old in any way that matters. Sylus is new but Rafayel has been here from the very beginning. So many more days. So many more nights.

How long has he known?

He lifts his hand, just enough to peer in your direction. You’ve not closed the app. You’re not poking at him anymore. He sits up straighter in the chair, both hands in his lap, and he looks at them pensively. Maybe even remorsefully.

“You’re thinking about what it all means, huh? Don’t.” It’s a command, but it’s soft. Then softer, a: “Please?”

Your breath catches— oh— he’s known for a long time, hasn’t he? You lean back against the gallery wall, grounding yourself as you text him an emoji: a chick bursting out of its shell with question marks over its head.

He pulls out his phone. Sees it. “Why?” he translates with a melancholic chuckle.

Yeah. You tickle his head. Why?

He runs a hand through his hair. “I guess… I didn’t want you to feel bad?”

You text another emoji and he glances down at it, then laughs more loudly: “I’m a dummy? Check a mirror, cutie— isn’t it you who’s been walking around thinking Mister Wannabe Vampire is the only one smart enough to figure this all out? Puh-lease.”

He laughs even more at his own joke— maybe to fill the quiet and the fact that he can’t hear you laughing with him. It peters out like it inevitably must, and like it always does. He goes still.

“Can’t you show me around, even a little?” he asks.

No.

You feel bad, you do, but you can’t start living for him. This is your world; if you invite him in now, when does it stop? You already spend too much time with your head down, lost in your phone. You were walking through a gallery and thinking about him, remember? Art is supposed to make you think about something real.

No, you text him: a crow holding a sign with a big, red cross. It’s too abrupt, but there’s not an emoji for “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Rafayel’s face falls further as he checks his phone, his eyes like the ocean in the painting across the room: lit by a weak, failing little light. He looks to you, even though he can’t see you. “Please?”

You don’t move.

“Please,” he tries again, “just this once— this once. Is that so much to ask?”

You’ve used up your three means of answering him.

He scoffs in dismay, alone in the silence of everything you can’t say— you couldn’t say— even if you were really with him and the distance between you was merely invented. How could you go to him, hold his face in your hands and tell him the truth: that you care, but not enough?

Here, now: the quiet confesses it for you.

Rafayel stands from his seat, taking a step closer, his gaze dark. You can see his eyes more clearly; that lantern is at the bottom of the sea, with the rest of the ship and everyone on board. “Do you know what my life is?” he asks, and the silence has become his ally, punctuating his every word so it can cut more deeply. “My life’s an empty café, a book with blank pages and a phone that won’t ring.”

The curtains behind him move softly with a superficial breeze, lit by a superficial sun.

“The only thing that’s real,” he says, “is you.”

You feel like the breath’s been knocked from your lungs.

You can’t resent him for it. He could have drowned you from the start, could have dragged you under a weight of responsibility, but he didn’t, and that’s Rafayel: always tempering himself into something less lethal. He’s been so still for you. So silent for you.

Your mind is wrapped in a vow you made him— one you’ve been unconsciously breaking— and you’re going to break it again, knowingly, wilfully this time, because you want him like this: angry.

You promised, didn’t you? I will never make Rafayel wait for me.

He’s always been waiting, and you want him to stop.

You close the app, muting your phone when notifications start coming through: a squall of frustration, pleading, and frantic apologies. You tuck all of it into your pocket and stand, wandering back to the painting that started it all so you can look at it differently.

Something real to think about. Something real.

You stare at a black ocean and think about him.

…

Rafayel isn’t talking to you.

It’s been a week since your ‘breakup’— dubbed gleefully as such by Sylus— and you load up the game to find your artist slumped back in his armchair, his book over his face. A week of him sitting down, cross-legged and armed, during the Deepspace Trials you’d set out to clear with him. A week of him hogging the Claw Machine, and missing every rare plushie with a sarcastic ‘oops’.

The worst part is that you’ve missed him. You’d tried replaying the kindled moments from his five-star memories, but he’d made you regret it. In Sparkling Traces, he’d summed up his feelings in a very… colourful drawing. Omnipotent Perception: he’d slipped deeper into the bathwater, a blush on his face as he avoided your gaze and murmured something about you ‘having some nerve.’

Now, you can’t even call him over to you. You poke at the book on his face, once, twice, then repeatedly until it slips, but his hands shoot up to catch it. He holds it in place.

Ugh. If he would just—

You drum away at the book more vivaciously, but his grip is solid. Plan B, then: you open your in-game messages and send an emoji instead. Rafayel stirs, one hand moving to his pocket and the other lifting the book so he can peek down at his phone. “What— you tryna bribe me now?”

He’s looking at grumpy crow holding out a present: a bundle of shiny, red gems. His translation is spot-on, as per usual, and you reward it by poking at his chest. He frowns down at the contact, then sits up, rolling his eyes as he tosses the book over his shoulder.

“This better be good,” he yawns, standing up and stretching with a listlessness that could only be described as cat-like, however much he’d whine about the comparison.

Having won his attention— and begrudging consent— you navigate your way to the AR Photobooth. Rafayel stares at you from within the frame: an unwitting subject of a portrait he doesn’t yet understand, but he soon will. You smile as he turns cautiously to regard his backdrop.

Behind him, the ocean laps at a shore of pale sand and stretches into the horizon, where the sun lazily dips. There’s about half of it left, turning the sky a blurred palette of orange and pink that’s spilled over the water. Clouds are few and dark purple, their linings aglow.

Rafayel’s folded arms have dropped to his sides. After a few, long seconds, he gazes back in your direction, eyes wide with surprise before they soften with a radiant smile.

“You—” he starts, and it could be something as light as a joke or as deep as a soliloquy. You’ll never know, because he doesn’t put it to words. He glances at the ocean again. Then at you. “Thanks,” he settles for.

You chuckle. There’s not many ways you can answer without tearing him away from the sunset and trapping him back in the café, so you stay sitting still. It’s a different silence than a week ago. There are things unsaid, but that’s ok— they’re the sort you don’t need to speak aloud, anyway.

Your shoes are set aside by your feet so you can feel the sand, still warm beneath your toes. You wiggle them into it, gazing out over the ocean as the evening breeze catches and plays with your hair, and the last of the sun trails over your skin. You stare out at where it’s sinking.

Rafayel moves, and your focus meanders back to your phone. He’s walking away from you, gradually— retreating further into the composition you’ve created, just for him. He looks as though he’s nearing the shore, but it’s cosmetic: there are no footprints in the sand. His hair isn’t moved by the same breeze, and his face isn’t gilded by the same light.

He stops by the ocean’s edge and crouches gently, mesmerised by the push and pull of the tide. Slowly, humbly, he reaches out a hand and lowers his fingers towards the water; they never slip beneath the surface, and they don’t stir a ripple.  

Rafayel laughs, masking an undertow of sadness, but not disappointment. “It’s funny,” he says, still sketching invisible, ineffectual shapes. “Loving the ocean as much as I do, and knowing… knowing I’ll never touch it.”

He’s all the way over there, but his voice is in your ears, so intimately close. You swallow an ache.

He looks up at you. Smiles: “Y’know what I mean?”

You’re using memories to complete the picture: His hair, mussed by the summer breeze that day you stood amongst the cherry blossoms. His face, painted by the sunset of a different life, where you’d roamed a desert together. In each and every moment, his eyes are the same, just as they are now: kindled by a tender, tentative fire.

“Yeah, Raf,” you say to yourself— just yourself. “I know what you mean.”

[russellsppttemplates]

Not anymore (Lando Norris)

Lando's determined to make you see where you belong

Note: english is not my first language. I hope this is still enjoyable to read as I really challenged myself with these pieces! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me)! This is part 2 of We don't fit together ! Edit: I used a line from dumplingsjinson (they're the best 🫶✨️)

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, curse words, bloodwork

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Part 1

The past couple of days were strange. Lando still sent you his usual good morning and good night texts he would send whenever you didn't spend the night together, and you replied. Still, because of your schedule and his schedule, the text for the dreaded conversation came through only this morning

From Lan

Needed to get my bloods done and then Jon also needed a physical assessment so this morning was a rush, but I'm free for the rest of the day if you want to talk, lovie

To Lan

I'll be home for the whole day, you can come here whenever it's best for you!

Tidying the place up a bit, the thoughts on your head kept the same train of ideas. You didn't fit his lifestyle, and the constant doubts you felt were certainly not the way you wanted to go about your life.

There was a knock on the door when you were fluffing the pillows and you walked up to open it, see Lando with somewhat dark circles under his eyes and a bunch of your favourite flowers, "Come in", you said softly as you both headed to the living room, sitting down since you didn't know what else to do.

"Thank you for texting, there was this part of me that didn't believe you would", you admitted. This was the time to be honest, still remaining polite and aware of the words leaving your mouth.

"Of course I did, Y/N, I want us to talk this out, I want us out of this rough patch", Lando pleaded softly, "I'm so sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", he offered, cutting through the silence when you seemed to not know what to say to kick-start the conversation.

"It's not your fault, Lando", you spoke the truth, "you have been on my mind every conscious second, every thought is about this and I- I really don't know how we will do this, how we will do that", you pointed to him in allusion to the goal he had, "I'm sorry".

Lando gulped, rubbing his hands on his thighs before speakingup, "I did too, and I want you to know I just want you to be happy, fuck, there's nothing I want more in life than to see you happy, and right now it pains me that I am the one that's making you hurt", he let his heart out.

"It's not only your fault", you whispered again, this time looking at him. Your insecurities were just that - your own - and you were responsible from how certain triggers made you feel and react, "I have to be the one to know how to deal with these".

"And I want to help you, lovie, you don't have to do this all alone all the time", Lando offered, "I want us to work and this is a conjoined effort - you shouldn't be doing that alone".

Silence filled the room as the gears turned in your head before you looked up again, seeing the broken look on Lando's face, "Do you think we should take a break? Spend some time away from eachother?", you voiced.

Lando didn't expect the option you suggested. Spending time further apart didn't seem like the right thing to do when you were obviously feeling like you didn't fit in and belong in his life, "are you sure that's the way to go? We'll do what you feel the most comfortable and happy with, but I don't want you to feel like I want you away or that you have to keep away from me - I want you with me for as much time as you can give me".

"It's silly, I know - I've never done this before, I don't know what to do", you shrugged your shoulders. Usually, by the time any insecurities shone through, your past partners had already left.

Lando sighed, "If that is what you think is going to help I'm all in, Y/N. I'll do anything to prove to you that I'm serious about this, but I'm giving up on us, I'm going to fight for you", Lando stated as tears started forming in his eyes, keeping them at bay because this wasn't the end. It couldn't be.

"I'm going to show you just how much you belong with me and how well we fit together, okay?", he checked with you, seeing a small nod, the uncertainty behind it only fueling him to put all his efforts into it.

.

"I wanted to do something we haven't done in a while", Lando said over the phone as he packed the tupperwares into the basket.

"Yes? And what would that be?", you asked. Lando kept a respectful distance but he made sure that everyday that you didn't spend together, you knew he was thinking about you and doing all these little things to remind you of how much he loved you and how you were meant to be together.

"I'm not going to tell you because it's a surprise, but I need to warn you to bring comfortable shoes, and as much as I love your little dresses, anything without a skirt would be better", you heard him smile.

"Okay, anywhere I should go to?", you wondered, "I'll pick you up in about thirty minutes if that's okay?", he quesioned, getting a positive answer from you, "see you soon, beautiful girl, I love you!".

Lando finished packing the picnic basket, getting the napkins and the drinks from the fridge so he could go to his bedroom and get ready.

He planned a fun afternoon, starting with a cycle around the city before finishing with a picnic in the park as he knew it was one of your favourite things. He had come up with many of your favourite plans to do together lately and he was feeling good about it. There was nothing he wanted more than to show you that you fit together and that both of your lives could compliment eachother if you both made adjustments. He was going out less than he used to and favouring to spend that time with you, he made sure you knew he was there and that he wasn't planning on leaving.

Finding a t-shirt and some jeans, he got two buckets hats from the new Quadrant Spring collection they would be launching soon and got ready to leave the apartment.

The drive to your wasn't long, but he never knew with the after lunch traffic, finding a good spot for his car and seeing you already at the entrance of the building, checking the street before crossing it, "hey, Lan", you smiled as you got inside the vehicle, kissing his cheek softly as he drove out of the spot once you had your seatbelt on, "hey, baby, how has your day been?".

"It's good, better now that I'm getting out of the house with some very nice company", you smiled.

The park wasn't too far, and when Lando parked near the rental city bikes with a smirk on his face, you knew what he wanted to do for the afternoon, "we're cycling?", you beamed.

"Yes! I also have some snacks here for a picnic later", Lando got the basket from the cartrunk, carrying it to the bike and making sure it was safely attached to it, scanning the code for his bike and then yours.

"Wait", he said as you were making sure the seat was at the right height, cycling around the area. Fishing out the bucket hat from the basket, he shook it a little so it would have a nice shape before putting it on your head, kissing your lips softly as he looked at you, "these are new and I needed my prettiest model to try them on first", he charmed as you blushed, "plus, I don't want the sun to blind you or burn you".

You cycled around your favourite spots in town, Lando occasionally taking pictures of the city and you with his camera and waving at the odd person who noticed and recognised it was him and you on the bikes, before you returned to the park, deciding to cycle to your favourite spot by the old big trees, blossoming from the spring sun.

"Thank you for this", you mumbled as you wiped your lips free of crumbs from the cake you had.

"Y/N, I won't stop fighting for us when we have something worth fighting for", he smiled, pulling you to lay on the blanket with him and holding your hands between your bodies, "I also got this really cool invite for the new exhibition at the museum - that one you wanted to see - and you want to know why it is so cool? Because we get the exhibition all to ourselves, no one else is going to be there which means you can take as long as you want and I can admire you all to myself and all I want too", he kissed your cheek.

"Sounds like a nice plan, thank you", you kissed his jaw.

.

You scanned your paddock pass as walked in the directions you were giving, not wanting to mess up the schedule and the lined up events everyone had.

They had been experimenting with new events to promote motorsport, adding parties and sunset events to the race weekend on order to gather all of the sponsors, famous people and fans who were interested in seeing the behind the scenes of a luxurious and extravagant race weekend.

"Everyone who still doesn't have a bracelet can come through here, please", one of the women in black suits called as you stood in that line, waiting for you turn.

"Here you go, enjoy the party!", she smiled, letting you go through and carrying on with her tasks.

The section involving the paddock, pitlane and the starting grid decorated with lights over bars serving drinks while staff went around with trays with small canapés.

You supposed this did work or they wouldn't try it out, after all it was an expensive sport and the more investors and sponsors they got, the better, so every little interaction and publicity was welcomed. You recognised a lot for the faces from Instagram and other social media platforms, along with some of the sponsors you had spent races sitting next to in the garage.

The face you wanted to see the most was nowhere in sight as you saw Oscar and Zak in the distance, talking to someone you recognised being one of their sponsors.

When you stepped closer to the area where most drivers seemed to be hanging out, you spotted Lando and he spotted you.

It had been nearly a year since you called it quits. It wasn't working for you and no matter how much Lando tried and fought for your relationship, you still didn't feel comfortable and thought you'd be better without eachother. It wasn't easy and to this day it would probably be one of your biggest regrets.

Maybe today you'd get to ease that heavy feeling in your chest.

Lando knew a lot of people would be there tonight, but your face wasn't one he expected. Last thing he heard about you was that you had made a small career switch and started working with another company, so he figured you were probably invited through one of the people with deep pockets wanting to invest in motorsport, knowing how it always looks nice on the company to invite employees to these fixtures.

As he saw his father and Max walk up to where you were, he walked in your direction, hoping to divert them so they wouldn't see you, another person pulled him with him to the side for a photo and it became impossible for him to not notice you and the other way around.

“It’s been… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”, you spoke up when you locked eyes and stood close enough to eachother.

"Yes, it has", Lando stated, "how have you been?", he wondered.

"I've been okay, and I see you have been doing well too - the car looks great this year", you congratulated, "I've been meaning to text you because I wanted to talk", you tried.

It took you some time to work on your insecurities, to learn to feel uncomfortable in some situations and get yourself out of them, and now you felt ready to begin again, feeling comfortable in your own skin.

"What did you want to tell me? You can tell me here", he stated coldly.

To say you broke his heart would be an understatement.

Despite all of his efforts, stopping DJ'ing, being conscious of who he hung out with, making sure he spent as much time with you as he could, you still raised concerns about how you were like oil and water.

Not made to be together.

"This really isn't the best place", you looked around as he pulled you inside the McLaren garage that was just on the side, exchanging a look with the security guard that was making sure no one broke in without permission.

"Is it good here now?", he offered.

"It will have to do", you smiled, "I'm sorry things didn't work out before - I wasn't in a good place and things weren't working out the way I'd like", you offered, "and I feel better now".

"Let me stop you right there before this gets out of hand and I hurt you, because I have never wanted that and I don't want it now", Lando said sternly, catching you off guard, "making peace with the fact that we weren't going to work out together was one of the hardest things I've done - I was miserable, didn't enjoy racing or anything that I was doing because I didn't have you by my side - you left me when I needed you", he poured his heart out.

He didn't shout and he didn't yell, but every word stung. Both from how true they were and how he had hurt because of you.

"I'm sorry, Lando, I wasn't trying to diminish how you felt then", you clarified.

"I know you didn't, but this isn't how it works, fuck", he rubbed his temple, "You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and think that I’d be okay with it - I waited so long for you, and I wanted to wait longer if you had let me, but now I can't do that, not anymore", he stated firmly.

"Are you saying we don't have another chance?", you asked as your bottom lip wobbled, "I promise I'll be more open about how I feel, and second guessing wo-".

“You were it at one point, you know?”, Lando shook his head as he looked at his feet before looking up back at you, "my parents, Max, Carlos - everyone agreed with me when I said you were my endgame", he offered.

There had been a time where he wished for this. For you to come to him and tell him you wanted him back and how it had all been a mistake. Now that he was hearing it, he realised he didn't want it, not anymore.

[pennyserenade]

devil in his heart | jackson rippner x reader

summary | after finding out your long-time boyfriend's real occupation, you have to grapple with who he really is. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | 18+, dark, dubcon (bordering on noncon), smut, explicit smut, fingering, degradation, violence word count | 1.9k+ a/n | i honest to god don't know what possessed me, but we are all grown ups here. read with caution! enjoy! love ya! also: i wrote this to devil in his heart by the donays and he's got the power by the exciters, if you're interested in a soundtrack. not beta'd

Truth be told, this is the best game of cat and mouse he's had in years, and he doesn't like that it's ending so soon.

As he gets on your level, crouching near your slumped form, Jackson almost feels a little sorry that you couldn't win. It's not that you weren't witty enough--you were. It's just that, well, he's better. This reminds him of when he was ten and had wanted to go to space only to figure out when he was twelve that he was too scared of the vastness of the galaxy. Some things are just out of reach, too good to be true. He mourns it all the same.

His fingers tenderly push back sweat soaked strands of hair from your face. You look up at him, blurry-eyed, but still so resolute--lips thinned, smoldering with anger. God. He swipes a finger across your lip just to know what it feels like, and likes it better for the fact that you jerk away so aggressively that you knock your head back into the wall.

His tongue clicks. "You should've known, after following me all those weeks, that I'm good at this."

Jackson wraps his fingers tightly around your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. You give in, mostly because you have so little energy to protest. His eyes look ominously glacial, lit up only by the moonlight cascading in from the window.

You look down at his lips; the flesh there is still swollen, broken from the harsh swing of your elbow earlier in the night. His tongue spears out to feel at the area. "You're a sloppy assassin, baby. My blood's all over this goddamn place. All over you--" he gestures down to your simple white tee shirt, which has been made dirty with dirt, sweat, blood. You don't care. You feel dizzy and half-scared to pass out, to even think of it, because you've never seen him look quite like this.

You think back to that first time you met him, how he had seemed so polite. He was traveling by train to visit his folks back home for Christmas (he said things like 'folks' in a crisp Midwestern accent, for God's sake). He had said he worked in life insurance policy, which made you laugh and caused him to say, "I know, I know--ironic, Jack Rippner dealing out life insurance." You had thought it was ironic. It is: ironically cruel.

He buys his ties from GAP, his dress shirts from Macy's, likes EggNog and celebrates the fourth of July with as much enthusiasm as any plain, good-hearted American man can.

He’s met your mother; he loves her breadsticks.

You spit on him. It takes the very last of your strength, but it's worth it to see the way his eyes ignite. His hand wipes it off, thumb running through the saliva on his fingers as his lips purse. "You know," he begins, voice eerily calm, "I always thought we'd make good parents. God knows we've come close to it enough times. You just can't help but beg for my cum in you, the slut you are." He chuckles darkly. "I always imagined that you'd be the good cop and I'd be the bad one."

Jackson pushes your head back into the wall, propping you there, almost choking you, but not quite. You let out a deep, wavering breath. He smirks. "But I see that's not the case now, is it? You don't seem to like very much when I play with my food before I eat it, do you?" His fingers press against your lips again, saliva coated. You let him. "Here I thought, all along, 'my baby's a goddamn pacifist. She didn't even like fishing!' It kept me up at night, the idea of you finding out what I did. But look at you!" His thumb tenderly strokes your neck, moving around a mysterious fluid--could be your blood, his blood, spit, water, anything. "I think if I reached between your legs now, you'd be soaked."

You choke out a sound of protest, wiggling beneath his gasp. He tuts, his fingers digging more tightly into your throat. For a brief moment, you can’t breathe. You find enough strength to claw at his hand, to widen your eyes and plead.

“C’mon, you’ll like this. You always do.” He loosens his grip on your neck.

As you gasp for air, Jackson knocks your legs apart. It doesn’t take much effort to get your cunt—you’d foolishly made the mistake of wearing a dress today—and he hums in delight when his fingers reach past your cotton underwear, confirming what he suspected to be true. His lips form into a mocking pout as your eyes begin to well with tears. It's not fear—you’re beyond that. It’s anger. The betrayal of this curdles inside you, eating you alive. Your eyes fill with ire.

“Don’t be that way,” he shakes his head, softening a degree. He holds your chin between his fingers again, the other hand rubbing wide circles over your clit. “I’m not going to kill you. How could I? I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you, truth be told, but it’s not that.”

Your hips jerk involuntarily, causing him to growl. “That’s the spirit, kitten. When you hit me earlier, I thought—after, of course, 'God she’s a bitch!’—that you might be a good asset. I know you’ve got a lot of morals holding you back right now, so I figure I’ll let you do the easy work at first. Let you think you’re doing some good in the world.” He presses down on your clit, his touch more intent, more focused. You squirm, hating the way he knows that you like it like this.

His fingers slip down into your cunt, wetting them. “Fuck, you’re soaking. If this is how you get when we do this, you might just reform me. I’m not opposed. We—“ he reattaches his fingers to your cunt. You whine, arching into his touch.“—could do good work. I freelance, if you couldn’t tell already. Though I’m sure you can. You’re a thorough investigator when you want to be. That’ll be helpful, too.”

Jackson picks up his pace, swallowing as he stares down at your lap. He can’t see anything, his hand hidden beneath the fabric of the dress and your underwear, but it seems to thrill him all the same. You too, admittedly.

“I—I couldn’t,” you retort, biting at your lip. “You—you kill!”

“Don’t be such a prude,” he deadpans. “It’s political assassinations and occasionally, though very rarely, an innocent bystander. And I do my best to make sure those cases are few and far between. I do.” He presses down more intently, watching with delight as you squirm, trying not to cum. “Oh, go on. It’s just you and me here. No one’s gonna know except me, and I won’t tell anyone. I’m good with secrets. You know that now.”

He’s near exultant, talking to you about this. The pitch of his voice is higher, and he’s looking at you like he’s won a prize of the highest degree. You’d spit on him again if he wasn’t making you feel so goddamn good.

“I won’t do it,” you shake your head firmly. Jackson takes the opportunity to slip a finger in your cunt, to press in and show you how much he has always—will always—know you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll bite,” he soothes, entering another. It’s a squeeze, but a welcome one, especially when he begins to thrust them against the spongy surface of your walls. Your toes curl, and you hate him, hate him violently. “If you want me to be rough, you really only have to ask, but since you like this game so much we’ll play it.”

As he fingers you, he begins to palm your clit. The sensation is overwhelming. Tears cascade down your face and he leans forward, licking them from your lips. The warmth of the orgasm rises in you alarmingly quick, his fingers deftly touching the inside of you, his palm lining with your clit each time you rut involuntarily. Your body knows him. It trusts him. He knows it.

The orgasm licks through you like a goddamn flame, igniting everything and leaving it all worse for it. When you cry out, Jackson smirks, so fucking pleased. But he doesn’t stop. He goes on, rubbing down harder, thrusting in quicker, until you’re wiggling beneath him.

“Please!” you say, trying to move his hand away.

He’s resolute. “No can do, honey. You’ve been a naughty girl, indulgent in the worst way. Gluttony is a sin, and I've been good–I’ve never punished you for it before–but you’ve hurt my feelings now.”

He slides in a third finger, his crystal eyes dark in the shadows. You feel impossibly full, and on the brink of another orgasm. You whine out. He knocks your head back into the wall with force. It doesn’t take your breath away, but it stuns you to silence. “That’ll be enough of that. This is for me now, got it? Getting you all wet so my cock will fit in that tight cunt of yours. Want you to hear it, your pussy taking me.”

As if to prove a point, he thrusts in again, and you do hear it—the way your body allows him in. An obscene squelch. You bite your lip, feel more tears fall down your cheeks.

“Jackson—“ you plead. You’re tired, achy, terribly confused. He works you open so well. You can smell the sour sweet smell of his body odor. You love it. You cannot help it. Your body trusted this man for so long. Still does.

You fool, you tell yourself, before your body gives way to his will again—you collapse into him, screaming out a silent whimper as the orgasm makes you convulse.

“That’s it,” he encourages, not stopping. “Be good for me. If you’re good, we’ll make this enterprise into a family business. If you’re bad—well, we’ll just have to make this our life, won’t we? You all weak, me with all the power. I don’t think you’ll like it, but you understand, it’s how it must be done if you don’t obey.”

He sighs, as if it’s putting him out too.

You know he’s serious. What’s worse is you know he’s right: that you won’t like it, that he’ll get his way eventually.

When you give in, he knows immediately, lips quirking up into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your temple. “I always knew you had it in you a little. You were always such a whore for me. I’m happy it worked out so well for us both. Now–” He pushes your legs further apart, moving in with his own hips. “Let’s play your most favorite game. It’s longer, requires more patience, but I like it just as much as you do.”

The jingle of his belt buckle makes a shot of fear, mixed with arousal, shoot up your spine. You think: God, no.

He laughs darkly. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve been making sure you’ve been taking your birth control. I’m not really ready for that, either. It’s just the idea that thrills you, isn’t it anyway? And that smallest, tiniest chance that it could happen.” He smirks, loosening his belt. His fingers exit you, leaving you empty, feeling scandalized and ruined. Jackson rubs them on the cloth of your dress, uncaring.

“I hate you,” you spit out, venom lacing your words.

He looks thoroughly amused as he releases his weeping cock from his underwear. “No you don’t. You’re just ashamed of yourself. But fear not–” he wipes a tear off your face, “--when we’re done here, you’ll be glad for this. Just remember, baby, that I’m on your side.”

[zigrethsnotebook]

How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?

Ford x Reader

words: 3,154

tags: sfw, hurt and comfort

a/n: this was the only note i made for myself before writing this: hnghnghng this is about moths now so yeah... enjoy:)

It's been a whole year. The twins are back from their sea adventure and the kids are staying with them for the summer again. You were on your way over to the shack. Stan had written you a letter, inviting you over. He said it'd be nice to catch up, tell you and the kids all about their time at sea and that way they wouldn't have to tell the stories twice.

The stories weren't the only thing you were excited for. Before they had left Stan had encouraged you to confess to Ford, insisting that his brother felt the same for you as you did for him. But when you told him he just went silent for way too long.

"Ford?" A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Please say something?" He looked into your eyes, his gaze blank and unreadable. "I'm sorry." The words felt like a dagger to your heart. "F-for what?" You at least wanted him to have the balls to say that he doesn't care for you. "I don't see a romantic relationship between us having a future. Especially with Stan and I going out to sea tomorrow. I'm sorry."

You just nodded, taking the words in. "...This didn’t ruin what we have, did it? Will we still be friends when you get back?" Your voice was small, afraid of his answer. "I'll always be your friend." A sigh of relief. The idea of him not being a part of your life had been the reason you didn’t want to confess to him in the first place. You only did it because Stan was so convincing that he reciprocated your feelings. Turns out you were both wrong.

You shook your head, breaking yourself out of the bad memory. After almost an entire year, you had come to terms with it. Now, you were just excited to see your friend again. Excited to have a normal conversation with him again.

Back in the shack the Family was preparing everything. The kids and Soos got the snacks and drinks ready while the Twins were busy starting the campfire. Stan watched as Ford poked around in the fire. He shook his head.

"I'll never understand it." Ford looked up at his brother. "I'll never understand how someone as smart as you could let go of the person who would have been the best thing in his life." Ford sighed. They had had this talk before.

It was pretty much the only thing they talked about the first week at sea. Stan would also bring it up anytime a night on the boat was too long and too quiet.

"We have nothing in common... That and our lifes are way too dangerous, I can't bring another person with me." He saw the disapproving look on Stan's face. "It's not like I have anything to offer. I've spent my whole life buried in books and research. I don't know how to be in a relationship."

Stan scoffed at that. "What are you talking about, Sixer? You're a catch! Times change, Nerds are the new Jocks. There's a reason I was the second choice for most of the babes we met." A bittersweet chuckle escaped Stan.

Ford sighed, focusing on the fire again. "It doesn't matter anyway. Even if I wanted to try again, I highly doubt that they're still single." Now that was something Stan couldn't counter. Mainly because it's something he hadn't even considered. You were so head-over-heels for Ford the last time you and Stan talked, it just didn’t seem likely that you'd go looking for someone else.

The kids and Soos came outside, carrying marshmallows, crackers, chocolate and Soda. Dipper was the first to sit down on one of the logs. "I can't wait to hear of all the creatures you found! It must have been awesome!"

"You bet!" Stan grinned at the boy. "But we won't start with the stories yet, someone is still missing." Ford looked at his brother suspiciously. "What are you talking about, Stanley?" At the same time Mabel's eyes widened. "Are you saying we get to see-" She was cut off as Stan stood up and called out your name, announcing your arrival.

You smiled sheepishly and greeted everyone. The kids were super excited to see you again and Mabel ran over to hug you. You hadn't realized how much you missed them. When she let go of you she practically dragged you over to the campfire. Stan, who was still standing, hugged you as well.

"It's good to see ya again, toots." You chuckled. "I missed you, too, Stan." You broke the hug and turned to Ford who made no effort to get up or anything along those lines. Instead, you just waved at him, but gave him the same fond smile you had shown the others. "The same goes for you, Ford."

Behind you, Stan frowned at his brother, obviously disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm he showed you. He quickly put on a smile as he addressed you again. "Please, take a seat! We were just about to begin with our stories."

You sat down between Stan and Soos, who just greeted you with a simple "Hey dude". You two had become friends over the course of the last year.

Soon everyone had prepared a stick with a marshmallow and held it over the fire while Stan told the most extravagant stories of their travels. You were glued to his every word, his storytelling being how you two became friends in the first place.

You were so engrossed in the stories that you didn’t notice the way Ford looked at you. He adored you. The way the warm light of the fire illuminated your features perfectly. The way your eyes seemed to sparkle with pure joy as Stan talked about heroically fighting off some beasts. Hell, he loved you.

This wasn't news to him, of course. Ford had known this for over a year. In fact, when you confessed your feelings for him, he wanted to hug you, kiss you, propose to you on the spot. But he didn’t. Because he felt like he wasn't enough.

Ford felt like he didn’t deserve happiness after almost ending the world and he knew that he would achieve it if he let himself be with you.

Back then, after you had left, Ford had told Stan about the whole thing, who took him by the shoulders and shook him, asking him if he was insane. The next day, when they were about to leave, you had stopped by to say goodbye to Stan, but refused to speak to Ford, politely making up a reason why you had to leave again.

It had crushed him. Ford wanted to sprint after you, turn you around and kiss you all dramatically like in the movies. But he didn’t. Because he had hurt you already and didn’t dare to make it even worse.

Which, of course, had made it worse anyway. The way you had parted ways meant that you were left all alone with a broken heart. And you couldn't even talk to your best friend about it because he was on the same boat as Ford.

But now, as Ford looked at you again, he felt all the feelings he had been trying to bury beneath the ocean floor bubble back up again.

"And that is how Ford and I defeated the mighty Kraken!" Stan was standing, his hands raised to the sky in triumph. All of you cheered and clapped your hands. It was so good to hear his gruff voice and exaggerated stories again. Although, you were more inclined to believe him this time.

The evening went on with more stories, smores and lots of laughter. You were so relieved to have them back in your life again, all four of them. You had missed them more than you realized.

Eventually, it turned late and the kids began to get sleepy. The fire had also died down. In a joined effort you all cleaned the place back up, bringing the rest of the snacks and drink back inside the shack.

After putting more things on the kitchen table for Stan and the kids to put away you went outside again to see if there was anything else to get. Soos came your way and you held the door open for him as you stepped outside.

Ford was still there. "That's everything. Soos took the last of it." You nodded. "Neat." You were about to step back inside again when you felt Ford's energy shift to a more energetic one. He pointed to the porch light.

"Look at that! That's a Tyria jacobaeae! I haven't seen one of these in ages. A beautiful creature, just look at the markings on its wings, the bright red color..." Ford looked at the moth in awe and when you stepped closer you realized why.

The little black and red creature truly was stunning. But if Ford hadn't pointed it out then you never would have noticed it. "It is really pretty. But there is no way I'm gonna remember a latin name for anything." You chuckled lightly as you said it.

Ford hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, it is more commonly known as the Cinnabar Moth. Cinnabar, like the mineral, of course, because of its striking color. It wards off predators, letting them know that they're toxic."

You instinctively took a step back and Ford chuckled at your reaction. "There is nothing for you to worry about unless you plan to eat the little guy." You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. "Haha, no. Doesn't really fit my diet." Ford and you shared a laugh together.

Another, considerably larger, moth joined the other one at the lamp. This one was bright white and yellow with little black dots on its wings. Ford nodded knowingly as he spotted it. "Estigmene acrea. The Salt Marsh Moth. Very pretty, but did you know that these little guys aren't very well liked around here?"

Even though it was a rhetorical question you shook your head 'no' and sat down on the couch Stan kept on the porch, letting Ford lecture you. He quickly sat down next to you as he continued. "They feed on most crops which means that farmers have to be on the lookout for them around this time."

God, how you had missed this. Just hanging out with Ford, letting him tell you all about a subject he was passionate about was one of your favorite things in the world.

Your gaze shifted from the Moths in front of you to Ford's face as he kept on talking about the little creatures. You didn’t try to keep the look of adoration off your face as you watched him animatedly explain the differences in their wingspans.

Eventually, he noticed your staring and turned his eyes to you, stuttering his speech to a halt. You chuckled fondly. "How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?" He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You just have to open your eyes and learn to find beauty in the mundane. That way you won't ever be bored again." As if on its own your body leaned towards him. You quickly stopped yourself. He rejected you once, you didn’t need to go through that again. Ford hadn't noticed.

You forced your eyes away from his and toward the moths again with a sigh. "The only times I haven't felt any boredom were the days I spent with you last year." A tight feeling settled in your chest as you spoke the words, but you couldn't stop yourself. "And today, of course."

You tried to keep your tone casual, your voice light. Ford felt an ache in his heart. He wanted you to never be bored again, show you the world through his eyes. Show you how he saw you.

"Surely you weren't bored every day of this past year, right? I bet you went on at least one interesting date?" He tried to keep his tone equally casual. Tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

You snorted. "Yeah, right. Who'd wanna date me?" "I would." You froze. Surely you had misheard him? You turned to look at Ford again, his expression was... honest?

You frowned. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Ford." You stood and turned, about to walk away. Ford grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "Who's laughing?" You pressed your eyes shut and stayed with your back to Ford, unable to look at him.

"I just got over you. Don't make me go through all of that again." Ford felt his heart shatter in his chest. "I am so sorry." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I was a selfish asshole. And you deserved so much better. You still deserve someone so much better than me."

Ford took a deep breath, still holding tightly onto your wrist. He couldn't let you go until you knew the truth. "I, on the other hand, don't deserve your forgiveness. Hell," A bitter laugh escaped him, "it took Stan a whole year to convince me that maybe I deserve to be happy sometimes at all, even though I almost caused the world to end."

He took a shaky breath, tears pricking at his eyes. But he wasn't done yet. "I spent the whole year regretting every word I said to you that day. Because... what I didn’t have the guts to tell you then is... I love you."

Ford stared at the back of your head, looking for any movement at all that could give away how you felt about his words. But you didn’t move for a moment, didn’t spare him a glance. Without a word, you flexed your arm and pulled hard, tearing your wrist from his grip.

You walked away from him and the shack without turning back. Ford was in shambles, his legs trembling and tears flowing freely. He wouldn't have been able to follow you.

Stan and the kids had watched the whole thing unfold from one of the windows, being attracted to the sudden noise like moths to the light. Now they stood shocked, with their jaws on the floor.

Back at home you threw your shoes and jacket in a corner before collapsing onto your bed. You were angry at Ford for treating you like that, playing with your emotions for over a year. Slowly, it settled in that Ford had just confessed his love to you.

After a year of thinking he didn’t want you that way, it left your emotions all over the place. Angry, sad and with a weird feeling of relief you cried yourself to sleep.

A soft knock to your window woke you up again. It was still dark outside. It was a big window that led to a balcony. You stepped in front of it and pulled the curtains back, revealing Ford. He looked like a kicked puppy, making it impossible for you to ignore him.

You opened the window and stepped outside to him. "What do you want, Ford?" He cringed at your harsh tone of voice. "I came to apologize... again. I know I hurt you. I know I behaved all wrong. And I'm sorry." He looked up into your eyes.

"I don't expect you to fall into my arms or anything like that. You're over me and that's fine. I won't try to win you back. I-I just wanted to be honest... but, maybe that made it worse again..." Ford shook his head, starting to pace around in front of you.

You took a deep breath. It was time to just let go of your anger and instead seize the moment while you had the chance. "Ford." He turned to look at you with big, hopeful eyes. "I'm not over you."

He took a step closer as you continued. "I thought I was. But everything that happened tonight... everything you said... I still love you." You locked eyes with him and you could see the relief flooding through him as he let out the breath he was holding.

Silence washed over the both of you, neither sure how to proceed. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable either.

The dull moonlight cast a blue hue over the both of you. You looked up at Ford's hair, admiring the way the light made it glow, when a little winged creature landed on his perfect hair. A smile crept on your face and you raised your eyebrow along with your hand to his hair.

Carefully, you held your hand out to the creature, offering your finger to sit on. Ford stayed quiet and you urged him not to move too much with one hand on his chest. The animal took your offer and when you felt every one of its six legs on your finger you brought your hand back down.

You held the little moth between you two. Its wings were light-blue with dark tips. Ford smiled at the creature. "Lomographa semiclarata or Bluish Spring Moth." He put one of his hands under yours, making you both hold it together.

"Did you know that in a more spiritual sense, moths often symbolize transformation and are generally considered as a good omen?" You looked up from the moth and smiled softly at him. "Is that so?" You let the hand you still held on his chest wander upwards to his neck.

Ford nodded lightly. "They represent positive conclusions." You let out a content breath, accidentally startling the moth into flight. Both of you followed the creature with your eyes. "...And sometimes death."

You laughed and lightly swatted him on the chest with your now free hand. "You better not die on me, Ford." He placed one of his hands on top of yours that was now on his chest and the other one on your waist, pulling you closer. "I wouldn't dare."

Ford slowly moved his face closer to yours, giving you plenty of time to back away in case you didn’t want what was about to happen. But why wouldn't you, this is the moment you spent an entire year dreaming about!

You let your eyes flutter shut and soon enough felt Ford's lips on yours. They were softer than you imagined, making you smile slightly into the kiss. You moved your lips against his in a way that felt just right. Like this was how it was always supposed to be.

Ford sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing and letting himself enjoy the moment. This was the kiss you would remember forever. Especially because he would immortalize it in his journal first thing tomorrow morning.

When you both parted you felt like you were floating. You rested your head on Ford's shoulder, just enjoying finally being able to hold him like this.

"Positive conclusion, indeed."

[heizlut]

Jealousy (part 1)

"Can you write about Aether, Gorou, Kazuha and Albedo getting jealous because the reader is not paying attention to them (like is busy that day and didn’t have time to be with them)?" (anon ask/answer)

a/n: so i kind of added a little twist to the prompt... i hope you don't mind, anon! (any extra character mentioned has a purely platonic relationship with reader with no hidden agenda, i promise!!)

cw: none! this drabble is sfw but is suggestive

tags: multiple chars x reader (separate), possessive!aether (he gets his own tag b/c he gets a lil mean with it), gn!reader, no specific pronouns used (just they/them), use of y/n (plz forgive me), not really proofread (r.i.p)

read part 2 here!

check out my masterlist here!

Aether~

You and Aether almost always took commissions together, but today was different. Kaeya had approached you personally with the hope that you would accompany him on his business trip Sumeru that he took on to help relieve Jean of some of her workload. What fully convinced you to accept was that Kaeya had told you to consider it more as a vacation with just a touch of business on the side. You happily accepted, excited to have a break and being able to spend it with someone you considered a close friend. Caught up in the excitement, you failed to let Katheryne know to tell Aether that you would be gone for awhile.

Imagine Aether's surprise when he ends up on a commission in Sumeru a day later and sees you with Kaeya at one of the taverns. Your laughter rings in his ears as though Kaeya had just said the funniest thing in the world. Aether finds himself becoming frustrated... no, jealous. Not only had you failed to let him know you would be travelling to Sumeru for who knows how long, you were also there with Kaeya. He made his way over to where you both sat, taking the seat right next to before even greeting either of you. Your eyes widen as you realize the mistake you had made when you had forgotten to inform him of where you were going and with who.

Before you can even apologize, Aether has a fake smile plastered on his face, but you're quick to notice how his jaw is tensed as he places a hand on your thigh under the table, giving it a harsh squeeze to let you know how he really felt, "Y/n and Kaeya, funny seeing you two here." The tone of his voice was saccharine and you shift a little nervously in your seat, only making Aether dig his fingers into the plushness of your thigh even more. Kaeya is quick to notice but chooses not to say anything about it, "Well hello, traveller. What brings you all the way here to Sumeru?" Aether holds that fake smile on his face as he tells Kaeya about the commission he was on and how it was oh so interesting that he couldn't find his lover who would normally accompany him. You look at Aether, a glint of possessiveness in his eyes as he steals a glance at you before looking back to Kaeya. "Apologies for whisking them away for a day. I simply wanted some familiar company around as I completed some business here", Kaeya offers a small smile. Aether hums in response, "Well then apologies for cutting this trip a bit short. I'm sure any remaining business you have here can be done without y/n" Kaeya nods in understanding, "You're quite right. Well then, I suppose I'll see you two when I return back to Mondstadt. Safe travels!" He stands up, excusing himself as he walks off toward the docks of Port Ormos. You seem to let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding as you turn to look at your jealous lover, "Aether... I'm so sorry." Aether simply tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Don't worry. You can always make it up to me."

Gorou~

Gorou was already not the biggest fan of Heizou, especially now that you were spending the day with him, having stated that you were helping him with a new case that had caught your own personal interest. It was already nearing sundown when you still had yet to return and Gorou excuses himself from the other soldiers chatting with him, now on a mission to find you and bring you back home, away from that sneaky detective. As soon as he makes his way towards the entrance of the camp, Gorou hears the sweet sound of your voice. He almost breathes out a sigh of relief only for it to get caught in his throat when he hears his own name fall from Heizou's lips in a comment that Gorou couldn't quite pick up from this distance. His ears press flat against his head as he makes his way towards both of you, moving as if he's about to enter into a battle. You smile sweetly when you finally spot your lover, beginning to raise your hand up in a wave. But your smile flaters slightly when you see a look of anger and.. was that jealousy in his eyes? Heizou pays no mind to the demeanor of the approaching general, offering his typical sly smile, "Why hello there, General Gorou~"

Gorou fights back the growl that's trying to claw its way from deep in his chest as finally stands in front of you both. He grabs your chin, turning your head at various angles as if he was inspecting you for anything amiss. When he sees that you're perfectly fine, he tilts your head up to look at him, a stern expression on his face, "I think your time spent with that detective is over." Heizou dramatically feins offense, "Oh, so now I'm just 'that detective'? I'm wounded." Gorou shoots him a glare but your sweet voice draws his attention back to you. You reach up to gently caress his cheek, looking at him so sweetly, "Gorou, I'm fine. There's no need to be so hostile. I'm sorry I was away all day. We just got caught up on so many new leads we both lost track of the time." Gorou's expression softens slightly at your words, realizing that he's gotten all worked up over something that really shouldn't bother him as much as it does. He lets go of your chin, letting out a heavy sigh as he wraps on arm around your waist, pulling you away from the detective, "S-sorry... Let's just head back to the tent now, yeah?" You let him pull you alongside him as Heizou watches you both walk away with a shit-eating grin on his face, having been quite entertained by Gorou's antics.

Kazuha~

Kazuha doesn't get jealous easily. He has always been such a laid back lover and felt secure with his relationship with you. However, you had spent almost your entire day with Thoma making sweaters for the cute little strays around Inazuma. He knows it's really such a silly thing to be jealous over, especially when you were simply helping Thoma care for the animals that most definitely deserved the love and care you both showed them. But what truly drove him to jealousy was that you seemed to have forgotten that you two had previously made plans to spend the next couple of days together before he had to board Beidou's ship that was heading for Liyue.

Kazuha did not want to interrupt you two, but the moment that Thoma had offered to knit you both matching sweaters, he felt the need to butt in. Neither you nor Thoma noticed Kazuha approaching, so of course you let out a small gasp when he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Hello, my dove. Have you been having fun today?" Kazuha was definitely making it well known that you were his and his alone. "Kazuha! I-", you stop yourself, your mouth falling open slightly when you realize that you had forgotten about your previously made plans with him. "Oh archons, Kaz, I am so so sorry. I completely forgot-", Kazuha cuts you off this time as he puts his fingers under your chin, tilting your head back just enough for him to press a deep kiss to your lips. Thoma stands there a bit dumbfounded as he watches the scene before him, a blush creeping onto his cheeks when he quickly clears his throat awkwardly, "I-i'll just get going now. I'll see you around, y/n." Kazuha hides his satisfied smirk by nuzzling into your neck.

Albedo~

Albedo hadn't seen you all day and after one of his most prized theories ended up falling apart, all he wanted to do was hold you and let his frustrations melt away. When he got back to his lab up in Dragonspine after being at the Knights of Favonius HQ all day, he expected you to be curled up reading a book with a thick blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you usually would. His soft smile faltered when he realizes that you are not there. He pauses for a moment when he sees a note left on one of his alchemy tables. Picking it up, he recognizes your handwriting instantly, 'Albedo, I am out helping Aether and Diluc over at Angel's Share. I am unsure of when I'll return, but I will do my best to be back before it gets to be too late in the evening♡'

Albedo has never quite understood human emotions, so when this strange feeling emerged and made his chest tighten, he wasn't exactly sure what it meant. Why did you have to spend the day with those two, especially the traveller? While he considered Aether to be a friend, Aether was still a traveller from another world with a mysterious aura about him, leading Albedo to wonder if he could be completely trusted. He found himself making his way back down Dragonspine and into Angel's Share. There he found you happily chatting away with the two men as you helped them organize the various crates of wine in the back. Diluc was the first to notice Albedo's presence, "Albedo, I never expected to see you here in Angel's Share. What brings you here this evening?" Albedo forces a slight polite smile onto his face, "Y/n, here left a note to tell me they were here with you and the traveller" His eyes meet yours, but there is a darker glint to them that you had never seen in your lover's eyes before especially when Aether's hand brushed against yours as he helped you set down a particularly heavy crate of wine.

Aether can't help the blush on his face as he mutters an apology to which you smile sweetly in return, letting him know it was okay. No, it most certainly wasn't okay, Albedo thinks to himself as the feeling in his chest begins to nag at him even more. He swiftly moves to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding your hand in his free one, moving it up to his lips as he presses a kiss to the top of it, "Love, I think it is time for us both to head back. It is quite late after all." His tone sounded sincere but had a hint of bitterness to it. You simply nod your head, letting your lover lead you out, but you don't fail to notice the cheeky smile he flashes back at the other two men as he raises his hand in a wave, "Have a nice evening."

a/n: i went a little feral writing these… clearly