#Arabian Nights Love Story

[httpsbobateablog]

Another Arabian Night 🧞🏺

[andreai04]

Don't you know girls have to fool people every day of their lives if they want to get anywhere?

[aavaline]

“Sands of Desire” Part One

—

 Beyond the arched window, the palace courtyard teemed with life. Lush gardens, verdant and wild, spread out beneath her, a tantalizing glimpse of freedom. Yet even amidst such splendor, she saw only her own despair. Servants scurried like ants, preparing for the grand celebrations—her one-year anniversary. A year since the day she was wed to the diplomat, the day her life had been bound in golden chains. She watched as they carried silver trays piled high with ripe pomegranates, figs, rice, bread, and spices, their fragrance wafting up to her. Maids dusted the silk carpets and polished the colored glass windows, each pane capturing the moon’s light and casting a kaleidoscope of colors upon the marble floors.

 The princess flinched, a sharp sting of pain shooting through her as her fingers brushed against a fresh bruise hidden beneath the folds of her robe. The mark of her husband's cruelty, a dark reminder of the love she was denied. In that moment, the door creaked open, and her maid Ashraf entered. 'You are still awake, Princess?' Ashraf chided gently, her eyes a mixture of concern and reproach. 'All of Persia has gathered here to celebrate you. You must rest and let sleep restore your beauty. come now..'

 'Celebrate'. Princess almost laughed at the word, but her lips remained still, curved into the practiced grace of a royal. How could she forget? Tonight marked a year since her marriage—a year of bruises and cuts, of whispered threats and stifled cries. It was an anniversary not of love, but of survival. The most wretched day in the calendar, yet dressed in silks and music as if to mock her suffering.

 'One day,' she whispered to herself, her gaze drifting to the horizon beyond the courtyard, 'one day, I shall be free.' The world outside called to her, a forbidden realm where the winds whispered of hope and the sands promised solace. The bustle of the bazaar beyond the palace walls echoed in her ears like a distant melody—a song of a life she had never known. To walk those streets, to breathe the air of freedom, to disappear into the sea of faces… it was a dream she clung to in the darkest hours of the night. And one day, she vowed, she would break free of this gilded prison, to find the life that awaited her beyond the shadows of the palace, where hope whispered.

[origami-trust]

May 8th: (and Dracula spoilers) It was by this time close on morning, and we went to bed. (Mem., this diary seems horribly like the beginning of the "Arabian Nights," for everything has to break off at cockcrow—or like the ghost of Hamlet's father.) Really struck that Jonathan brings up "Arabian Nights." On one hand, this cements the comfort he felt in the library - it's always so lovely when a character in books - loves books! But the idea of the One Thousand and One Nights, the storyteller Scheherazade who keeps extending her life by one night, and then another, and then another by the captivating stories she tells....feels very appropriate for Jonathan. People have mentioned this before in the Big Book Club - Dracula might have changed his mind about when he was going to kill Jonathan to let him live a bit longer, and I like that reading. Jonathan seems like he outlives his original purpose that Dracula planned for him, and that's because Dracula finds Jonathan very entertaining! He spent the night talking to him, and the previous night asking him all sorts of questions. As long as Jonathan can continue to be entertaining until dawn, he'll get to live another day to tell more stories the next night.

[pukanavis]

Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1

ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.

Fuyume: Excuse me?

Are there any fairy tales here…?

Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?

Thank you for your help.

~...♪

(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)

(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)

(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)

(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)

(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)

(This story is another one that Yume adores.)

(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)

…♪

Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?

You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.

Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?

How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?

Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?

That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.

Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪

Huh? That’s not the issue?

Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.

Here he was thinking you were a nice person.

Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.

And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?

You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…? 

Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪

Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?

It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.

Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪

What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪

If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.

Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.

…♪

Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?

Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.

Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else. 

Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst. 

Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?

—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”

Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.

Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.

In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.

It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪

The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.

After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—

With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—

Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.

Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.

After everything, the final wish she makes is—

Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!

Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.

At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—

Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.

After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.

You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?

Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.

—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”

During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness. 

Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.

For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.

Huh? Does Yume love Esu?

It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.

But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.

—The amethyst already shattered long ago.

[hopeluna]

!! Fic Recs

Most of these are long fics or series and some of these are 18+ so be aware? But anyways, enjoy these works from absolute writing angels <33

Jujutsu Kaisen

Symptoms & Causes by @lostfracturess

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

Love Entries by @chuluoyi

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: series of episodes of your life with the strongest sorcerer throughout the past and present

men are so quick to blame the gods by @awearywritersworld

Sukuna x reader

Synopsis: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night.

wanna be yours by @nezuscribe

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

his kiss, the riot by @nezuscribe

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: the king has been struck by never-ending grief when he found out about his wife's infidelity. he has her ordered to be killed, but afterward, he is no longer the same. every night he marries a woman, and every morning he has her killed. the endless cycle continues until the night you're chosen to be his wife. instead of letting him ruin you, you tell him a story. you tell him a story that he just has to know the ending to. and so begins the story of one thousand and one arabian nights.

i'd crawl home to her by @likelilacwine

Geto Suguru x reader

Summary: the god of the underworld brings his most valued prize home at the risk of tearing the realm itself apart.

Boku No Hero Academia

@andypantsx3

Yes, her entire blog. Pls each and every series of her is god send. I cannot reccomend this to you enough!!

pretty white dress by @gaybybirth

Dabi x reader

Synopsis: You're shelving books like normal at work when a new face comes into the store. And in a small town where everyone knows each other, a new face really stands out. Especially when it's one that makes you burn in ways you never have.

FILL MY LITTLE WORLD (RIGHT UP) by @shibaraki

Aizawa Shouta x reader

Synopsis: you are employed by aizawa shouta to nanny for his vulnerable adoptive daughter eri while he’s at work. as time passes you find yourself equally smitten with them both, longing for a more permanent place in their family.

please save me by @hitoshiyoshi

Platonic!young!shimura tenko x reader

Synopsis: you save shimura tenko

Stranger Things

Not Wholly Evil by @uglypastels

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

As you wish by @corroded-hellfire

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: When Eddie isn’t appreciated like he should be, his babysitter feels the need to step in and comfort him.

Living After Midnight by @munson-blurbs

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head.

Please do tell me if you want to be removed from this for whatever reason!!

[artificial-transmutations]

I'm the ugliest nerd in the world and I have nobody. I wish I was a man with dark brown eyes, nice muscles and everything that makes a himbo... and every nerd I kiss becomes a man like only an Arabian fairy tale could tell. He would only want me. Only I could keep his muscular body up with kisses and fucks.

Can you grant me this one Wish?

An Arabian fairy tale

Once upon a time, there was a nerd called Gregor. He lived his life in a big city and every day, he was miserable. Not only was he gay and lonely, no, the little nerd was also ugly. He wasn't just ugly, no, he was the ugliest nerd there was in the whole country.

Every day he wished he could find a lover and live happily ever after, but every day, he was reminded of his status as a lonely nerd. He tried online-dating, but due to his exterior, nobody seemed to want him.

Gregor was a shy, awkward guy who didn't get many chances to talk to strangers. In his free time, he enjoyed writing fantasy stories, a hobby that didn't bring him too many friends, either. It was frustrating, too. In his stories, the hero always managed to find a true love. He wasn't alone, no, he had someone at his side.

In his real life, however, Gregor didn't have such luck. The best thing that happened to him in a while was meeting another nerd online. There wasn't going to be anything romantic between them. As fate would have it, the other nerd, called Evan was also gay and lived not too far away, but Evan had made it pretty clear early on that Gregor just wasn't his type. Instead, he rooted for manly men, with a different ethnic background. Evan and Gregor spent a long lonely night in voice chat together, discussing their preferences. Evan apparently longed for the firm touch of a strong man with Arabic background.

Meanwhile, Gregor didn't dare say what he wished for. What was the use, anyway? There was no way it was going to happen. No one wanted to be with a weak, ugly nerd like him. To be honest, he didn't actually really know himself. In his thoughts, a partner was something so abstract, so far away that he hadn't even thought about how such a person would look like.

Evan's fantasy wasn't bad, though. After their talk, Gregor lay awake in his bed and imagined strong, middle-eastern men, along with Evan. Perhaps he had developed a slight crush on the other nerd. Finally, he drifted off to sleep, wishing that he and Evan could be together.

When Gregor awoke the next morning, he felt strangely energetic and in a pretty good mood. Thinking nothing of it, he quickly got dressed and thought about what to do today. He didn't have any work to do and would usually have spent the day indoors, writing one of his stories. However, after the refreshing talk yesterday, that didn't feel all too appealing. Instead, he had an idea: He knew where Evan lived and worked. Perhaps he should walk over to that other part of the city, and they could have a coffee. Not as a date, of course - but more as a continuation of last night's talk.

Gregor didn't have time to waste and left the house. As he stepped into the sun, the first thing he noticed was how bright the world suddenly appeared. He didn't think much of it, but a few moments later, the second strange thing happened: People were looking at him!

Now, Gregor was of course used to people looking after him - he was really ugly, after all! But today, it was different. The gazes that lingered on him didn't seem to be hostile or disgusted. They seemed curious.

Perhaps his shirt had a hole in it, Gregor thought. He checked himself, but no, the shirt was fine.

As he walked, the attention he drew increased steadily. Was there something on his face perhaps? Or his arms?

As he checked his arms, Gregor was amazed by what he saw: His milky-white skin that usually had a sickly tone to it was entirely different today: instead of the pale and blotchy skin, he now had a healthy and firm complexion. The muscles in his arms, which he usually thought of as scrawny and flabby were now clearly visible.

He checked the other arm, and it was the same. What was going on? Also, his vision was getting blurry. When he took off his glasses to clean them, however, his vision cleared up instantly. It was as if his short-sightedness was just gone!

As Gregor kept walking, the changes became more apparent: His legs, which had always been thin and small, were now visibly muscular. His stomach, which had always been a little fat, was now a firm six-pack. His clothes, which had been a bit baggy before, were getting tighter and tighter as both his height and his shoulder width increased more and more.

His hair, which had always been a dark brown, was getting even darker, and a strong stubble covered his chin. His skin, which had been the same milky white tone, was getting a darker, more exotic tan.

Gregor had no idea what was going on, and he was a little scared. But the more his body changed, the better he felt about it. He wasn't an ugly nerd anymore. He was not yet sure what he was going to become, but it was surely better than what he had been.

Meanwhile, his clothes were getting increasingly tight, and he felt like taking them off. That was not something he would ever do in public, but his urges were stronger than his shyness. With a quick movement, he took off his shirt and ripped his pants open. To his surprise, below the tight jeans, a pair of silk shorts in a shiny royal blue had formed instead of his slip, which covered his privates. However, even though he wasn't naked, the ample bulge that stretched the silky fabric left little to imagination: a large and thick manhood had formed between his legs, which left a clearly visible dick print, along with the thinly veiled big orbs of balls he now had.

By now, Gregor's appearance was attracting a lot of attention, as his body kept growing more and more, becoming larger and more impressive by the second. He wasn't even "lean" or "fit" anymore. The way his body expanded, he definitely qualified as "muscular" by now, perhaps even "bulky". His shoulders were wide and strong, and his back had filled out so much that his neck had almost disappeared entirely. His biceps and triceps were both at least the size of his head and were covered in a fine, dark fuzz. The rest of his body had also become much hairier: His chest was covered in a generous carpet of dark hairs and a thick bush of pubes was pushing out against the silky shorts.

People had stopped and stared, and even a few had started to snap pictures or take videos with their phones. Gregor was enjoying the attention. His facial structure reformed into something much more manly. His new Arabic heritage became clearly visible on his face. His nose, his eyes, and his jawline changed and became broader, more prominent. His eyes became deep and dark, and his bushy eyebrows made him appear quite serious and manly.

A superior grin appeared on his face that wouldn't go away anymore. Gregor knew he had become a walking wet dream of Arabic hunkness - especially for Evan. He couldn't wait to surprise him like that.

Even though his identity hadn't changed much, Gregor didn't feel like calling himself Gregor anymore. Ghalib. That was a far more fitting name for his impressive Arabic stature. It meant 'victor' or 'conqueror' - and Ghalib felt exactly like that.

Ghalib wasn't even sweating when he arrived at Evans place a short jog later. He rang the bell, and when the little nerd in front of him opened, he didn't waste any time: Ghalib pulled Evan into a tight and sensual kiss, invading the other man's mouth with determined force. Evan moaned in his mouth and his legs gave in.

Ghalib held the small nerd up and carried him inside the flat, kicking the door shut behind him. The rest of their clothes soon littered the floor as the two men kissed passionately. However, as they were making out, Evan, too, began to change. It was almost like watching his own changes in fast forward: The hair on his head receded into a shorter style and was replaced by a thick fuzz that grew on his chest and the rest of his body. Evan's face morphed into a masculine and rugged appearance. His skinny, pale arms and legs grew more and more muscles, until they looked like they were sculpted out of marble. His skin darkened and an Arabic ethnicity appeared by it.

Finally, the smaller man's cock expanded and swelled up. Within a few seconds, it reached almost the size of Ghalib's.

As they continued kissing, the two men, now equally hung and ripped, felt up each other's bodies. Ghalib had no idea why this was happening, or what had brought on these changes, but he didn't care. All he knew - or was pretty sure about - was that it didn't have to stop with Evan.

As the other hunk went down on him, Ghalib made a decision. Evan and he would share their gift, turning more and more nerds into a true harem of sexy Arabs!

[kykyonthemoon]

Oasis Tale

After the events in Sea of Golden Sands, Rafayel rewrites his story on a secluded oasis.

ಇ. Rafayel x MC (Female Reader) - written in his pov.

ಇ. Tags: oneshot, fluff with light angst, secret wedding, inspired by Arabian/Middle East wedding cultures, Rafayel's pov, mentioned of his myths (Sea of Golden Sand), Talia.

ಇ. Word count: ~1k2

ಇ. Requested by Na Sa

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

The entrance of the great tent opened, allowing a gentle breeze from the lake in the distance within. I sat on the edge of the bed strewn with red flower petals, gazing at Talia, who had just arrived.

“What is it that you want to tell me?” I inquired after considering that Talia's eyes seemed to convey countless unspoken thoughts. 

“What else can I say? You have already made your decision.” 

Talia responded with a sigh. I beckoned her over and said, “Then come and give me your blessing.”

Talia was my sole remaining family in the world. If it were not for her, I certainly would not be here, at this moment. I bowed my head, receiving Talia's blessing as the representative of my ancestors. She departed soon after, with a reminder:

"One night. You two only have one night.”

I nodded slightly. One night was enough.

Once Talia's footprints were covered by the wind and sand, I stepped out of the tent. The sunset covered the cool water in the middle of the oasis, a magnificent crimson as I stepped down. I waited. I waited for the moment when the bell-like sound of the jewelry adorning that one young maiden rang out. Then I turned around. 

She stood in all of the colors that I appreciated of this world. A fiery dress with gold and pearl jewelry - those had belonged to her for a long time, then given to her once more on this special day. Her bare feet glided across the verdancy of the oasis. Her face was obscured by a thin layer of cloth the same color as her dress, which fluttered in the breeze with every step she took.

She stopped at the edge of the lake, seemingly wondering about something. I reached out a hand and she took it. The water hugged her legs, rising gradually to her exposed waist. Her body was painted with traditional Lemurian insignia, precisely like mine. They were an indication that she was my bride.

I had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Since the ocean had not yet dried.

My trembling hands, with all clumsiness, grasped her veil and removed it. Her rosy cheeks emerged. These eyes penetrated my soul. Akin to when we had first exchanged our vows.

She did not recall. How wrenching it was! Only I, doomed to live without a heart, must remember all. She once kissed me; she once pierced through my heart. I wanted her to remember, yet hoped she would forever not. Love was a misfortune to any Lemurian foolish enough. And I was such Lemurian, the one who gave his heart to her.

Countless lives had passed, I had lived without a true heart. I had waited until the day I saw her again. I had waited until the day she called my name once more. 

“Rafayel.”

From the moment her lips uttered my name, I deliberately bound myself to her for eternity.

I smiled at her, addressing her in Lemurian. “My bride.”

The wheel of fate spun again, and the threads of our destiny were intertwined once more. I saw her again. She found me. I could not stop the torrent in my heart when I stood in front of her; was it hatred or was it love? I only knew one thing, that my heart was throbbing in her chest. She was my heart, my life.

Yet, I was no longer the God of the Sea, and she was no longer a Princess. Even when she reincarnated, even when I erased her memories of us in this life, she still found me.

Then, we were in the midst of an oasis, bathing in pristine water and reciting our vows. This sacred ceremony involved only the two of us. Sparkling drops fell through her fingers, down on my hair. Then it was my turn to catch the water and soak her hair. She trembled slightly. 

“Rafayel,” every time she called my name, my hollow chest seemed to retrieve its rhythm. “Why are you crying?”

Only then did I realize the pearls were falling from the corners of my eyes. Her delicate hands reached out to catch them. She let them float in the water and then caressed my cheek.

"Have I forgotten something, about you, about us?"

I grabbed her wrist, buried my face in her palm, and pulled her a little closer. Her body carried a distinct flowery aroma that I always recalled.

"Nothing. You did not forget anything significant." I responded. I did not wish her to remember the tragedies of the life we ​​had gone through. Yet, in the end, those memories were gradually finding their way back to her.

She spoke again:

“Perhaps I have not recalled all the things we went through together yet. But what I know is that you are in front of me at this moment.”

I gazed at her for a while. Her scent, her breath, her every touch were so real. She was real. Her hand on my face shifted gently. She grasped my hand and placed it on her chest.

“If I ever forget you again, even just seeing you, I shall give my heart to you once more. I know I will always do the same thing.”

Her heart was beating consistently, full of vitality and unending fire. It once belonged to me, now it was hers, forever. I knew the Lemurians out there were awaiting me to seize that heart out of her body. I knew I must sacrifice the person I loved the most in exchange for the restoration of a golden Lemuria. Yet I knew that I would not accept such a fate. Being here with her was proof that we were already writing a different story, forging a different path.

I was not certain how long she and I could go on this path. But I must try. I lifted her hand and placed a kiss on it. I whispered to her:

"Do not say that. Do not claim you will surrender your heart to me anymore. I merely wish it to stay with you.”

The sound of her laughter reverberated in my ears. She responded:

“You once said, Lemurians must rewrite their own stories, with their own hands. I believe in you.” 

She lifted my hands and clasped them together. 

“This time, let me rewrite it with you.”

Her hands entwined with mine. She moved forward and sealed her eyes. Her lips parted. The sun had completely set and the lanterns floating on the lake lit up by my power. The two of us were basking in a pond of stars. 

The tip of my nose met hers. In my mind, a storm was brewing; the burden of lost Lemuria on my shoulders, the happiness of a lifetime that she was willing to offer me. Yet I feared no longer. For as my lips found her kiss, I knew our tale had been rewritten, beginning with that night.

-The end-

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

IX ║ Warmblood

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 8: Silver Pony | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: The hardest goodbye you'll ever say.

Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, flirting, sexual innuendoes, semi-pubic sex, oral sex (F receiving), risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7.6k

Notes: Here we are, at the end of the longest packtrip ever, and we did it with only one (1) little meltdown last night 😜 More notes at the end, but I just want to say - this has been a once-in-a-lifetime story for me. If a fic can be a soulmate, Palomino is mine.

Thank you for coming on this journey with me, I love every single one of you ❤️ Last thing, I never do this, but I must insist that you play this song when you get there. You'll know when 🥹

Warmblood: An athletic, agile horse that is noted for its trainability and usually calm temperament, is commonly used in equestrian competition, and typically possesses Thoroughbred, Arabian, and draft horse bloodlines.

Your awakening is gentle, soft and blurry around the edges, as if you’re looking through the lens of a Polaroid camera, tinted in sepia. The morning hour creeps across the ceiling of Jack’s bedroom in equal parts light and shadow, the curtains having been left undrawn last night. A crack in the window lets in the faintest breeze, but mutes all the sounds you’ve grown used to seeking out first thing in the morning, when your eyelids are too heavy to lift.

The hum of flying things, feathered or otherwise, charting their flight paths in your head by the buzz of their wings. The brush of the wind like a hand combing through grass and meadow. Even the sun speaks in the morning, raw energy strumming between constantly shifting air particles.

This stillness comes off as almost - unnatural. Even when straddling the divide between sleep and wake, you feel yourself making tiny adjustments to the physicality of being indoors again. Regret stains the corners of your consciousness, knowing it won’t take you long to recalibrate. Your body will return to what it knows, shedding your once-upon-a-time existence in the mountains like a coat discarded at the turn of the season. 

When the mattress dips behind you, sensation floods your veins like a shock to the system, flushing out the pins and needles in your limbs that you haven’t even noticed. Jack is warm and solid behind you, where he belongs. One leg nudged between yours, his sun-kissed arm across your waist, the only thing keeping you from tumbling off the edge. His breath whistles sweetly over the shell of your ear, and you smile. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know that his mouth is parted in slumber.

The next time you come to, it’s the rude buzz of metal on wood that jolts you out of sleep. You squeak when Jack follows, almost inadvertently shoving you off the bed as he startles awake. But thankfully, his instincts are fully intact, and he catches you squarely in the stomach, biceps flexing as he pulls you back into his chest with an easy strength.

‘Sorry, darlin’,’ he rasps groggily, burying his face in your neck in an apology. You uncoil in a languid stretch, opening up your throat to the rough scratch of his moustache, wanting to feel the burn.

‘Phone, cowboy,’ you gripe when the vibration doesn’t stop.

With a heave-ho, Jack reaches over you to grab it, before falling back onto the mattress so heavily that the bedframe shakes. Rubbing his thumb and index finger over his eyes, he grouses into the receiver, ‘What?’

Teak’s voice on the other line is clear as day even though he’s not on speaker. ‘Where are you, man?’

You burrow into Jack’s side, and the wide span of his palm on your hip holds you to him possessively. ‘Where do you think I am?’

‘Listen. Poppy made sausage gravy and buttermilk pancakes. Y’all know what that means.’

You venture a peek at Jack, whose lips are pursed thoughtfully. You prompt, ‘What does it mean?’

He smiles down at you. ‘She really likes you, darlin’.’

Teak interrupts with a scoff. ‘Like her? She’s basically adopting you, sunshine!’

Your lips wobble - if you soften any further, you might melt into the mattress.  ‘Oh, Poppy.’

‘Look, I’ve been stallin’ them, but they’re fixin’ to break down her door. You lovebirds best get here quick!’

Tossing away his phone without a goodbye, Jack drops a kiss to your forehead. ‘Listen, we don’t have to go anywhere, you stay here and I’ll make you - cereal in bed?’ He pauses with a wince. ‘Actually, I’m outta milk. And cereal.’

You chuckle, reaching up to run your fingers through his endearingly askew bed hair. ‘It’s ok, cowboy, we should go. I need to pack anyway.’

Your tummy takes the inopportune moment to rumble audibly, and he pins you with a knowing look. ‘And you want that sausage gravy, don’t you?’

‘Shut up,’ you laugh, pushing him off the bed.

When you step out of Jack’s bedroom in last night’s clothes after a quick refresh in his neat ensuite, he’s already outside, warming up the Silver Pony.

The house is even cosier in the morning. Facing east, daylight fills every corner of every room, bringing out the patterns in the wooden panels. Your gaze lingers where you can’t. You want to study the cracked spines of the paperbacks on his bookshelf one by one, you want to press your nose into the shirts hanging in his closet, you want to peer around the door to a second room that is temptingly ajar - 

‘Darlin’?’

You look up, and Christ on a cracker - it’s downright unfair that even after a week of spending every waking minute together, this damn cowboy can still make your heart skip a beat just by standing.

Jack is on the doorstep, in what you assume is his ‘off-duty’ uniform. Instead of a plaid shirt, he’s wearing a simple white tshirt with a round neck that is decidedly not sweat- nor dirt-friendly, tucked loosely into the waistband of dark jeans that look a bit more polished, and if you would believe it, even tighter than the pair he wears in the saddle. While it’s business as usual with the Stetson and work boots, something unfamiliar hangs from the neckline of his top.

Plucking the gold-rimmed aviators from his tshirt, you slide them onto your face, winking at him through the tinted lens. ‘Nice shades. Gotta say, I didn’t peg you for such a snazzy dresser off the trail.’

He grins, all tidy teeth with a deliberately libertine edge, clearly enjoying the attention. Scooping you into his broad frame, he drawls, ‘Gotta look good for the ladies in town, y’know. They’re famished ‘cause you been hoardin’ me all week, darlin’.’

With an exaggerated huff, you elbow past him. ‘I don’t know how you manage to zip your ego into those tightass pants, cowboy!’

‘With lots of practice,’ he retorts, smacking you firmly on the backside.

‘Do you need your sunnies?’ you ask as you climb onto the Silver Pony behind him, pushing the aviators a bit higher on your nose where they’ve slid down.

He shrugs. ‘Keep ‘em. Gives you a reason to come back.’

You smile into his broad shoulders, palms sliding to interlock over his soft belly. The bike revs, startling a flock of birds into flight from a nearby tree, and you realise those six little words are the first to breach the subject of what comes after - which will come to be in a matter of hours, with your flight in the early afternoon, a prospect suddenly so frighteningly real. 

But in the same breath, it becomes blindingly clear that you don’t even need to hear the words.

Because you know there is a space for you in his bed, tucked into his body, curled around you. A spot for you under his arm resting on the back of his couch in the living room, in front of a woodfire when it snows outside. A seat for you at the back of his motorcycle, where you are now, breezing effortlessly downhill towards the ranch, the white fences and red roofs winking at you between the gaps in the trees that line the winding country roads.

When you dream in the months to come, you will always smell pine, white cotton, and well-worn leather as the Silver Pony carries you home.

It’s a shorter drive than you remember. Jack’s watch reads just past half eight when you pull into the parking lot. He kills the engine as you dismount, passing him your star-spangled helmet to be returned to its place in the little cabinet for next time. You’ve turned on your heel towards the ranch when a hand on your wrist grounds you to the spot.

Hands that have made you feel safe, protected, wanted in turn over the past week.

There’s no fanfare, no declarations, as you watch Jack lace his fingers with yours, filling the gaps and the tips curling into the valleys between your knuckles. Palm to weathered palm, calloused from ropework and heavy lifting, you look up to meet his eyes. 

He peers at you, almost shyly, an incomprehensible notion after all that he’s done to you, and what you’ve done to him, across the expanse of the Wyoming wilderness. But there’s a chastity to this simple action, and you find your throat tight when he asks, ‘Is this ok, darlin’?’

Your heart swells, as if it’s going to grow claws and tear itself right out of your chest cavity. Bringing up your tangled hands, you brush a kiss across his knuckles, and his whole countenance lifts with the upward curl of his mouth. 

‘Yes, cowboy.’

The Statesman is putting on a show for your last morning. The sun is out, climbing high into the cloudless sky, with Jack’s aviators bearing the brunt of the harsh glare. It’s déjà vu when you retrace the path you took on the day of your arrival, the same crunch of gravel under your boots, the familiar scent of hay and horse on the breeze. 

The bird’s eye view of the ranch has your breath stuttering just like that first time you cast your gaze on the green pastures and the red roofs. And beyond, like a perfectly painted stage set piece, the Bighorns loom tall and majestic. You’ve seen the mountains in all their incarnations over the past week - they change colour as the sun and clouds move during the day, and sometimes, you swear they morph in shape too. 

It strikes you suddenly that just yesterday, you were but three specks moving across the vast landscape, the realisation almost bowling you over. 

Before all this, it wouldn’t have taken much to convince yourself that you don’t deserve it. That it was the horses doing all the legwork and Jack the navigating, that you haven’t really done anything but sit in the saddle. But something’s shifted, it’s been a baptism by long summer days and the great outdoors - and damn it all, you’re proud of yourself. 

You came on this trip alone, with nothing but a broken relationship behind you, a suitcase full of anxieties and riding gear covered in years of dust and neglect. You said yes, perhaps recklessly, when offered the chance to spend a week alone in the mountains with a complete stranger and the glamour of sleeping bags and portable showers, when it would’ve been easier (and certainly more comfortable) to turn it down. 

Somehow, you’ve come out the other end, long gallops over untouched grassland and starry campfire nights piecing you back together, only to fall so damn hard for this cowboy that you’re sure to break again when you get on that plane this afternoon -

An unexpected tug on your arm has you tumbling clumsily. ‘Jack!’

He arches an eyebrow and remarks, ‘Ain’t heard those cogs in your pretty head grind that loud since the first coupl'a days, darlin’.’

You shrug and, not wanting to sour the mood, deflect his attention with a lighthearted fib. ‘Just realised that I didn’t even come close to falling off once the entire week.’

When he chuckles, the thought comes to you that you’ll miss the way he laughs with his whole body. 

‘You did real good for your first rodeo,’ he pauses, then flashes you a lascivious smirk. ‘You ain’t bad at ridin’ bareback either.’

A rebuke of his crude quip is on the tip of your tongue, but then your nose picks up on the scent of bitter coffee and maple syrup, which is quickly followed by the sighting of the al fresco table set up not far from the grill last night, the singe of smoke and whiskey still hanging in the air.

From a distance, you can see Poppy and Champ engaged in what looks like a heated debate, both gesticulating wildly with fork and knife. On the opposite side of the table, an unbothered Teak mows down his breakfast as if he’s heard it all before, and Ginger is feeding Jameson pancakes under the table.

It’s the younger cowboy who spots you two first. He freezes, brows disappearing under the brim of his Stetson when his eyes flit downwards to your interlocked hands. A huge grin would’ve split his handsome face in two if his mouth wasn’t stuffed full of half-chewed pancakes. The beans are well and truly spilled when Jameson comes bounding over, barking his demands for morning cuddles.

Champ looks up, his argument with Poppy promptly dropped. ‘Aha! There she is! Howdy young lady, we were just wonderin’ where you -’ 

He halts mid-sentence, his head whipping towards his right where the guest lodges are situated beyond the stables, decidedly not the direction you’re coming from. The penny drops as he takes in your hand in Jack’s, eyes wide, and all the occupants of the table seem to inhale a collective breath that stops you in your tracks.

But not Jack. He ignores the gawking with a practised air of been there, done that, and ushers you into the empty seat next to Teak without skipping a beat. Planting a sweet peck on your cheek, he settles to your left and unfolds his starched napkin with a flourished flick of his wrist, which he tucks into the neckline of his tshirt.

‘Mornin’,’ he addresses the silent table in an exaggerated southern drawl. ‘If y’all would be so kind to shut your mouths, you’re embarrassin’ me in front of my lady. Now, pass the coffee if you please, Teak.’

Fittingly, it’s Champ who breaks the silence with a rip-roaring howl of laughter, palms hitting the table so hard you’re convinced everything on it jumps a foot from the surface, the ruckus sending Jameson scampering for cover. ‘Well, well, well! Butter my butt and call it a biscuit!’

Poppy leaps to her feet, halfway to the kitchen before shouting over her shoulder. ‘We’re celebrating! This calls for strawberry milkshake!’

Teak elbows you in the side. ‘Just so y’know, Poppy ain’t the type to make strawberry milkshake for just anybody.’ He salutes you with a crooked grin. ‘Welcome to the family, sweetheart.’ 

It’s a brand of chaos that is distinctly Statesman. Ginger and Champ are fighting each other to load up your plate with far too much food over your protests, Teak pours coffee into your glass and orange juice in the mug, and Jameson is probing your knees under the table for scraps. You meet Jack’s eyes, and he grins back at you with a wink over the rim of his cup.

There’s no reason why you should be this hungry after the barbeque last night, but you don’t stop until you’ve polished off the sausage gravy and biscuits, the welcome richness settling in the pit of your stomach and making you second guess if you have any room left for pancakes.

‘Young lady, I hope this means you forgive me for the strings I pulled to set you two up,’ pipes up Champ around a mouthful of bacon, washed down by black coffee.

‘You’ll hear no complaints from me, sir,’ you reassure him.

He raises a fist in a pantomime of indignation. ‘You wouldn’t believe the grief Jack and Ginger put me through for playin’ matchmaker! I demand a retraction from y’all!’

Ginger raises both hands in surrender. ‘Fine, I take it all back, even if it means you’ll be downright insufferable about it! But I’ll happily live with that!'

Jack slings an arm around your shoulder. ‘It kills me to say it, but you have damn good taste, boss.’

‘Well, y’all know what they say - ain’t a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fit!’ needles Teak.

‘Hey!’ You reach across to slap him on the arm as Jack chuckles behind you. ‘I don’t see you with a lid, you loud-mouthed kettle!’

Teak sasses back, ‘Fine, fine, how ‘bout - there ain’t a man that can’t be thrown, or a cowboy that can’t be rode -’

Right on cue, Poppy’s distant shout interrupts, ‘Tequila!’

Jumping onto his feet, the cowboy winks at you. ‘Hold that thought, sunshine - right away, ma’am!’

Unperturbed by the double entendres, Champ brings the conversation right back around. ‘Well, I do declare, this nosy old man gets it right -’

‘For once!’ heckles Ginger.

‘Joke’s on you, m’dear. I only need to be right once!’

There are oohs and ahhs when Poppy and Teak reappear with the decadent milkshakes in retro fountain glasses, topped with whipped cream and strawberry slices, distributed around the table.

‘So, what are we drinking to?’ asks Poppy.

You turn to Jack, holding up your milkshake. ‘To crooked pots.’

There are cheers and laughs up and down the table, and Jack clinks your glass with a grin as he adds, ‘And cowboys that can be rode.’

You think about the cassette tapes that you used to watch when you were young. How at the end of a film, the black tape is all rolled up in the right window, and you were always the one to press the rewind button on the VCR. You still remember the whirr of the film as it went backwards, round and round, right back to the beginning.

When the coffee has gone cold and the morning chores come calling, the breakfast table empties, and you hear the click of that button when Jack offers you his upturned palm to walk you back to your cabin.

The tape rewinds as you pack. The outfit you agonised over that first day or your introductory ride with the cowboy has been laundered, and you slowly fold up each piece - the jodhpurs, the plaid shirt, the socks - and put them into your open suitcase.

The tape rewinds as you close the door to the cabin, and Jack carries your luggage across the yard in one hand, yours nestled snugly in his other.

The tape rewinds as you walk by the stables - you nip in quickly to say goodbye to Whiskey and Bourbon - past the main lodge, and the grazing field next to the parking lot.

Putting your suitcase down, Jack whistles with his fingers, the sound carrying in the wind. You see a familiar golden head pop up from across the field, and your nose prickles with the threat of tears as you watch Scotch canter towards you, ears forward and tail swishing with an attitude you can spot from a mile away. Climbing onto the first rung of the fence, you throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his snowy mane as he snoops around your pockets, always looking for treats.

You pull an apple out of your travel bag, neatly cut in two. Scotch nickers, his velvety nuzzle tickles as he carefully plucks each half from your palm.

Combing through his forelock, you coo at him, ‘I’m gonna miss you, boy. You behave with your rider next week, you hear me?’

The key is already in the ignition of your rental pickup when Champ puts your suitcase and tote bag on the backseat floor, while Teak and Jack load the Silver Pony onto the back. 

Your arm almost falls out of its socket when Poppy passes you the promised takeaway lunch, packed into a chiller bag. 

‘You’re flying Delta right?’ she asks. ‘I’ll call them up with instructions on how to heat up the food. It’ll be good as fresh off the barbeque.’

‘Thank you so, so much Poppy,’ you say as she pulls you into a warm hug. ‘I hope you know you’ve ruined food for me. Nothing will ever come close to being good enough.’

She winks. ‘You’re welcome, honey. Come back soon, ok? There’s more where it came from!’

Ginger is next, and emotion clutches at your chest as you squeeze her slender frame in a tight embrace. ‘Just so you know, I was furious that you wouldn’t give me a refund when I called you up all those months ago.’

‘What can I say? I’m a tough cookie,’ she giggles, and hangs onto you for just a moment longer. ‘I’m so glad you didn’t cancel on us.’

Champ surprises you, forgoing your outstretched hand and giving you a hug for the first time. His tweed suit is softer than expected under your cheek, and smells like pipeweed and leather. 

‘It’s been an absolute pleasure, young lady. I’m sure we’ll see you again very soon,’ he winks. ‘And I’ll be in touch about the social media.’

Three steps away, Teak is waiting with his arms crossed, and he pushes off the truck to bundle you into his embrace, the hug as big and as bear-like as him, which makes you chuckle.

‘Anything parting Southern wisdom for me?’ you quip.

‘I’m all out, sweetheart,’ he says, giving you a pat on the back. ‘’Cept, y’know, that cowboy’s been grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet ‘tater all week, and it’s damn annoyin’.’

Jack rolls his eyes, one palm on your back as he herds you towards the truck. ‘C’mon, darlin’, we should make a move.’

Saving himself for last, Jameson trots up to you with a bark, tail wagging. The grass is warm and tickles your bare knees when you crouch down to give him one last hug, giggling at the wet kiss he leaves on your cheek. 

The leather of the passenger seat is soft as you sink down into it, while Jack closes the door behind you and crosses to the driver’s side. Inhaling deeply as the engine starts with a rusty rumble, you look up when he gives your hand a grounding squeeze.

‘Ready, darlin’?’

You nod, though not entirely convincingly. ‘Let’s go, cowboy.’

The Statesman gets smaller and smaller behind you as the truck eases down the driveway, and the four figures waving in the rearview mirror blur into tiny shadows through the mist of your tears. The metal frame of the vehicle squeaks with the movement as it rolls over bumps on the long dirt track, at the end of which, Jack takes a right with a one-handed turn of the steering wheel onto the main road, and the ranch slips out of sight.

The midday sun streams through the windshield, hot on your skin. You’re glad you changed out of the jeans from last night into a lightweight dress, a slightly frivolous last-minute addition to your luggage that’s paid off. 

Staring out of the open window at the rolling landscape, it takes you right back to exactly eight days ago when you were driving down the dusty road - except this time, the Bighorn Mountains are behind you, and next to you is a cowboy instead of an empty seat. 

Unabashedly, you watch him drive. His right hand is woven in yours, disengaging only to shift gears every now and then. Under the brim of his hat, his eyes are on the road, occasionally darting sideways to find himself on the receiving end of your attention.

It’s certainly an adjustment to see him in the driver’s seat after a week in the saddle - Whiskey’s, then the Silver Pony’s. But it doesn’t matter, there’s no mistaking the competence behind his every movement, be it to ease his horse to a slower gait with the lightest closing of his fingers on the leather reins, or to redirect the truck with an effortless palm on the steering wheel -

‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer,’ he drawls, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

‘Not long enough,’ you grumble, shuffling in close.

He half-turns, moustache brushing your temple as he murmurs, ‘Have I told you that you look beautiful in that dress?’

You press a secret smile into his shoulder. ‘You sure you don’t prefer me in jodhpurs?’

Untangling his fingers to slide blunt nails under the hem of your dress and up the inside of your leg, he replies diplomatically, ‘I can see pros and cons to both.’

Your breath hitches with a warning, but the instinctive parting of your thighs gives you away. ‘Cowboy -’

You startle at what sounds like a sudden crack of thunder, but it turns out to be an enormous interstate truck charging down the opposite lane. In a panic, your knees snap shut, trapping Jack’s wandering hand between the soft cushion of your legs. To your chagrin, he makes a point of waving to the driver as he passes by.

‘Jack, he definitely saw your hand up my dress!’ you chide.

He flashes you a knowing smirk, and you shudder when he digs into the meat of your thigh with a firm squeeze. ‘Somethin’ tells me you enjoyed that, darlin’.’

Your mouth opens, ready to object, but a familiar heat warms the back of your neck the same time your throat goes dry. It’s the same thrill from last night, in the cellar, not knowing if you’ll get caught bent over a whiskey cask, jeans pulled down just enough so that this cowboy could bury his cock deep inside you. 

Despite yourself, you shift in your seat, and Jack’s knuckles scrape the fast dampening seat of your panties. Choking on a strangled noise, he turns his wrist so that he can rub the outline of your folds through the thin fabric, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. ‘Fuck. I feel that, darlin’.’

Another car comes down the opposite lane, a smaller sedan this time, and you’re bold enough to spread your thighs, letting him slip under your panties.

The car swerves sharply as hisses at the wetness he finds, fingertip gliding slickly between the lips of your pussy, smearing the mess all over as your hips rock into the contact. 

Through gritted teeth, Jack groans, ‘Darlin’, you’re soaked for me.’

‘Pull over. Now.’

He does - parking haphazardly behind a tree, barely a couple of yards off the main road before killing the ignition. 

You mount him immediately, throwing your right leg over his lap as if pulling yourself into the saddle, the pain an afterthought when your knee jams into the control panel on the door in your haste. Jack grunts as your hips slot flush against his, his usual composure nowhere to be found as he’s caught between undoing his seatbelt, pushing your dress up and scrabbling down the sides of the driver’s seat for the adjustment lever.

The sudden recline of the seatback pulls a squeak from you while knocking Jack’s hat clean off, and you follow to claim his lips in a messy kiss as he palms the swell of your ass.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he bites out, rocking up against your pussy, head thrown back. ‘You’re so fuckin’ sexy.’

He doesn't question you when you climb over him, taking the chance to scrape open-mouthed kisses down your neck instead - and when you sit back down on your haunches, his pupils blow wide at the sight of you wearing his hat and a flirtatious grin.

‘How about now, cowboy?’ you tease.

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing hard as his eyes darken. ‘You’ll look even better sittin’ on my face, darlin’.’

Your jaw goes slack. ‘Jack -’

‘I want to taste you one more time. Need to. Please.’

Something breaks loose inside you, unhinges, and you crawl over the length of his lean body to steal a bruising kiss that has him hot in pursuit when you pull back. The hem of the dress brushes his face when your knees make landing on the backseat, on either side of the headrest he’s lying on. Reaching for the grab handle above, you pull yourself upright, bracing the roof of the truck while you hover over his beautiful nose.

Calloused fingers bunch up your dress to the waist, and Jack hums at the display of your drenched panties, before hooking one thumb around the seams and pulling it unceremoniously to one side.

‘Look at that pussy,’ he groans brokenly. ‘Always fuckin’ soakin’ for me. Just beggin’ for me to taste it, hmm?’

‘Jaaaack,’ you whine on an exhale. Looking down at how he’s so wantonly eyeing you, your back arches with a confidence you didn’t know you have. Thighs splaying wider, you know he hears the slick parting of your folds when he stutters a pained moan.

‘C’mere and let me eat that pretty pussy, darlin’.’

From the moment his lips close around your clit in a sloppy suckle, you know this is a different beast from that first time he took you apart with his mouth, deep in the mountains, under the secret cloak of night. The afternoon sun casts shadows where his brow is creased in studious concentration, his keen gaze flitting from where he delicately holds you open with his fingertips, to your cleavage, to your face, and all the way down again. Every twitch of muscle, every whimper caught in the web of his determination to relish all of you.

In no mood to tease, each measured lick and curl of his tongue hits its mark, your physical reflexes compounded by this show of devastating competence. He draws desperate sounds that you don't even register as your own, your needy cunt leaking all over his face and chin.

‘Cowboy,’ you mewl, reaching down to coil your fingers into his hair, the strands beaded with sweat and sticking to his forehead as he doubles down. Your squirming only makes him tighten his grip on your hips to hold you still, the bite of his fingers bordering on painful. ‘I’m so close -’

The insides of your thighs are cool and slippery, a sensation you’re well used to now, his spit and your slick completely soaking through your panties. His three-day stubble rubs your sensitive skin raw, and the top of his Stetson bumps against the ceiling as you angle your hips to catch his puckered lips where you need him most, chasing friction.

‘Jack,’ you whimper when you feel the first spark of orgasm deep inside you, the spiral instant and relentless. ‘Jack, Jack, oh fuck, - I’m there, that’s it - I’m cumming, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’t -’

Somewhere on the fringes of your scattered mind, you’re aware that the windows are down, not that you can do anything about it now - you thrash and wail and sob his name, all the while he laps at the mouth of your throbbing cunt. The sounds are obscene as he slurps and wrings every last drop of you until you’re pushing him away, nerves firing blindly from overstimulation, choking hoarsely when you catch your breath.

Watching you in a drunken daze, Jack finally draws back with a lewd pop, wiping his thoroughly soaked chin on your knee, which narrowly misses his nose as a violent, full-body shudder ripples through you.

‘Relax, darlin’,’ he cooes. All your joints have capitulated, so Jack has to bodily rearrange you, dislodging your shaky knees from his shoulders down to his sides to pull you in for a kiss. You moan at the sticky release his moustache smears all over your face, the taste of yourself thick and heavy on his tongue.

His brown eyes snap open when you sneak between your bodies to palm his erection through his jeans, voice strained. ‘Darlin’, we ain’t got the time -’

Deftly undoing his belt, that damned flask-shaped buckle that looks as ridiculous as the first time you laid eyes on it, you assure him, ‘Don’t worry, it won’t take long.’

He arches an eyebrow, taking in your face shadowed by his cowboy hat, but stays put otherwise, almost docile as he lets you take the reins. ‘Is that so? And you’re so confident, how?’

Shoving down his boxers and jeans, his cock springs free, hard and ready. With a brazen grin, you sit up and line yourself up to the swollen tip, declaring, ‘Because I want you to cum inside me, cowboy.’

You’re not sure if it’s you sinking down on him, or him snapping his hips upwards. All you know is that by the time your head catches up, he’s driven to the hilt inside you.

‘What are you - fuck you’re so tight -’ he wheezes against your lips, giving you no pause as he ruts into you recklessly, the crude slap of skin on skin filling every space the truck. ‘Whatcha mean by cummin’ inside you?’

‘I don’t know how I can be more clear, cowboy,’ you sass, when a particularly deep thrust almost jolts you off his lap.

‘But you’re not on birth control, darlin’ -’ he tries to reason.

‘I’ll take the morning after pill as soon as I land,’ you promise, holding his unfocused gaze. ‘Do you trust me?’

The wind is knocked out of you when his strong arms pull you flush to his front, his answer immediate and irrevocable. ‘With everythin’.’

There’s too much going on. The coarse scratch of denim on the inside of your thighs, his nails scraping down your ass, the desperate whimpers he leaves in the secret place behind your ear. The air grows humid and thick as Jack feels himself slipping, your pussy gripping him so tightly that his eyes threaten to roll back into his skull.

He gasps in a breathless warning. ‘Darlin' -’

‘It’s ok, cowboy,’ you croon, fingers carding through his dark hair. ‘I want to feel you deep inside me. All of you.’

His bones rattle with a vicious shudder at your words. Snarling, he bucks into you at a pace so unrelenting that you cry out with each snap of his hips. 

‘Gonna stuff you so fuckin’ full,’ he vows in between slippery kisses. ‘Been wantin’ to since the first time. Gonna fill your pussy with my cum, darlin’, you’ll be drippin’ with me for days -’

‘Yes yes yes do it cowboy, please -’ you beg, voice cracking.

‘Look at me,’ he orders, nostrils flaring as you knock foreheads. ‘Look at me while I fuck you full, darlin’.’

Choking on a whine, you feel him swell inside you until he teeters right on the brink. The raw need in his eyes robs you of your breath, and you grow faint on empty lungs as you sway with him -

And then his neck strains, his hips jerk, and you feel his abdomen cave in on itself when he lets go with your name on his lips, and his on yours. A primal roar fills your ears as he pumps you full of him, spilling into you again and again until all you feel is his cum hot and deep inside you, flooding your cunt, his whole body spasming as he pants raggedly for air.

A carnal musk hangs ripe and sweltering in the confines of the truck. Floating on a lazy stupor, you draw soothing circles on his quickly rising and falling chest through the aftershocks, his tshirt clammy with sweat, heart pounding under your palm.

Jack reaches up to push off his hat so that he can see all of you before pulling you in for a lingering kiss. When he softens, his spend dribbling slow and hot out of you, two thick fingers nudge between your thighs, and your back arches when he tenderly pushes it back inside.

His plea is a hoarse mumble into the side of your neck. ‘Keep me in you, darlin’. Take me with you.’

You nod, and smile, ‘Always.’

The airport is tiny, and Jack seems to know everyone you cross paths with. From the security guard at the carpark (previously a groom at the Statesman) to the staffer at the car rental counter (Champ’s nephew), he’s busy tipping his hat and dispatching howdy’s left, right and centre.

‘Small town, huh?’ you quip.

He hums, ‘Welcome to cowboy country.’

And he definitely knows the brunette checking you in at the airline counter, all the while glowering at you over the top of your driving licence.

‘Ain’t seen you 'round town much lately, Jack,’ she says, affixing you with a none too subtle glare.

‘Y’know how it is in the summer, always busy,’ he replies a touch too politely. As soon as he drops your suitcase onto the baggage belt, he wraps one even less subtle arm around your waist and pulls you pointedly into his side.

You bite your lip as the woman’s eyes narrow and she aggressively punches your details into the computer system, surprised that the keyboard doesn’t break. Once your suitcase is on its merry way, Jack wastes no time spiriting you away from the counter without so much of a fare-thee-well.

You burst into laughter, elbowing him in the ribs. ‘Brrrrrr. That was cold!’

Jack pinches the bridge of his nose, admitting, ‘To be fair to her, she didn’t catch me at my finest moment.’

‘Do I want to know?’

‘Let’s just say there ain’t enough of this ol’ cowboy to go ‘round for the ladies in town,’ he winks.

‘Well, I hope they know there’s about to be even less of you going forward,’ you sniff primly.

Preening at the possessiveness in your tone, Jack ribs, ‘A tragedy, some might say.’

You huff, but can’t help a smile. ‘Well, aren’t I lucky to have roped you in, cowboy.’

‘And she can’t even lasso!’ he teases, leaning down to steal a kiss.

Feeling eyes on you, you duck your head, protesting, ‘Jack, people are looking.’

‘Let ‘em,’ he counters, prompting a gasp from you when he brazenly squeezes your ass through your dress. ‘I’m stakin’ my claim, darlin’.’

‘You already did in the truck, cowboy,’ you remind him, instinctively rubbing your thighs together, feeling the weight of his cum wet in your panties.

He hums, as if he knows, the sound deep and satisfied. His lips linger at the crown of your head, and he holds you close with his whole body, wrapping himself around your soul.

All too soon, the old-fashioned Solari board you’re sitting under whirrs into action. The retro split-flap display spins and flips with a mechanical staccato to spell out ‘final boarding call’ next to your flight number, one of five scheduled for that afternoon. 

Stubbornly, you turn your face into Jack’s shoulder, inhaling him. He smells like horses and dappled sun filtered through leaves in a tree - you wish you could distil it into a bottle and take it with you.

You’re in denial, that much you know. You’ve warded off the thought of leaving too well, compartmentalised it and pushed it down somewhere it wouldn't be able to resurface.

But that’s the irony - even if you can keep it buried, it doesn’t change the fact that your suitcase is in the belly of the plane parked on the runway, that you’re about to leave Wyoming behind and put thousands of miles between you and this cowboy, who has gone uncharacteristically quiet as the minutes tick down.

Eventually, he murmurs slowly into your hair, as if the words are physically weighing him down. ‘C’mon, darlin.’

Your feet are heavy, dragging, and Jack has to practically strong-arm you out of the airport terminal and onto the tarmac. He holds you as you loiter at the back of the queue, until the crowd disperses, and the stewardess at the top of the boarding stairs gives you both a knowing but firm look.

That’s when the tears spill over the seams of your lashes where they’ve been teetering, held back by sheer willpower and clenched teeth. Ugly sobs bubble out of your throat, and Jack pulls you into him, his own voice thick as he rocks you soothingly. ‘It’s ok, darlin’. I’ll see you before you know it.’

‘But when?’ you wail, almost petulantly.

He answers with no hesitation, and it’s obvious to you that he isn’t just thinking on his feet, that he’s been making plans, but kept it close to his chest. 

‘We have back-to-back pack trips the next three weeks, so I can’t get away. But next month, after the Kingsman’s rescheduled bookin’, I’ll take a whole week off.’

‘That’s an entire month away,’ you grumble into the soaked front of his tshirt.

‘I know, but you’ll need time to plan all the things we’re gonna see,’ he jokes, recalling your fireside conversation. ‘You’re gonna take this country mouse to all the museums and art galleries and all kinds of big city adventures, ain’t that right?’

You give him a watery smile. ‘I stand by the sex and Thai takeaway in bed plan.’

‘Even better,’ he answers, and you hold onto the way the crease of his smile lines bring out the soul in his eyes. ‘I’ll call you, darlin’, ok?’

Somehow, you muster the good humour to tease, ‘The cool kids FaceTime nowadays, and I hear your phone doesn’t have a working camera.’

He laughs, and you can’t quite tell if it’s tears clinging to his lashes, or if it’s a trick of the light. He thumbs away the wet streaks from your cheeks, nose brushing yours in a solemn promise. ‘I’ll get a new one.’

‘Just for me?’

And then he’s kissing you, plush lips slanting across yours, dragging slow like honey. When he pulls back, he breathes, ‘Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

Jack has to physically unclench his fingers to let you step back. When your hand slides out of his, it takes him everything not to pull you back, or run after you up the stairs. He grasps the railing so hard his knuckles go bone-white as you turn back to him one last time at the aircraft door.

You blow him a kiss, your smile brave but wobbly. ‘Goodbye, cowboy.’

He swallows hard, wanting to be strong for you, but still, his voice wavers. ‘I’ll see you, darlin’. So soon.’

You nod, your tears catching the afternoon light as the stewardess ushers you into the cabin.

Then it hits him. 

You’re not going to be in his arms when he wakes up tomorrow. You’re not going to be there when he reaches around for you - your face, your neck, your voice.

You’re not going to be there.

Jack watches your tear-streaked face appear at one of the windows, and he tries to smile at you, wishing he’d insisted on one last kiss. The heat from the jet engines and the sun is bouncing off the tarmac, but he’s cold, so cold, that his fingers have gone stiff. Nothing feels real, as if he’s been wrapped in cling film and dunked underwater, and he almost doesn’t hear the voice to his left.

The air traffic controller says apologetically, ‘’Mfraid we gotta clear the runway, sir.’

He fumbles over his words. ‘’Course. Sorry.’

Pressing his index and middle fingers to his lips, he waves the kiss at you, which you catch with your palm against the glass. Determined not to miss one single second, he slowly walks backwards with the controller beside him as he waves the batons.

He says sympathetically, ‘It’s always hard, but it gets easier.’ 

Jack glances at him with a questioning look.

He chuckles good-naturedly. ‘You ain’t the first lovelorn cowboy I seen on this runway sayin’ ‘bye to his city girl.’

His lips quirk despite himself, eyes still on you even as the plane slowly taxis away. He says, ‘I sure hope you’re right, man.’

With one last wave, the plane pivots, and you disappear around the bend.

Empty. He feels empty.

The sadness is helium in his chest, inflating between the gaps of his ribs, and he feels himself drift even with each footfall of his heavy boots on the concrete, while a dull ache ricochets in the hollow spaces of his skull.

Grappling for an anchor, Jack forces himself to focus, one thing at a time. Key in the ignition, twist, the whirr of the engine. Switching on the radio, it cackles between the frequencies as he straps his Stetson to the backseat, then swings one leg over the saddle and puts on his helmet.

The static starts taking on shape, lyrics and guitar riffs cutting through the white noise and catching his attention just as he wraps his fingers around the rubber grip of the handlebars.

I want to ride off on a palomino

Feel the fire in my breath and the breeze in my hair as I go

Why the hell am I even looking back for?

For I know, where you go my love goes

For I know, where you go my love goes

He misses the ghost of your arms around his waist, the slope of your nose tucked into his nape. He misses you. He wants to see your face the minute you get off that plane on the other side of the country. He wants to hear your voice before he goes to bed tonight. He wants to tell you mornin’ first thing tomorrow when he gets up. 

As the 737 roars overhead, the shadow passing over him, he wonders if you can spot him from the clouds. 

He’d better crack on and get to the shop in town before it closes.

Steering smoothly out of the parking lot, Jack takes a left, the Silver Pony kicking up dust with a purr as she cruises down the country roads -

The same country roads that brought you to him.

Fin

More notes: I've been writing fanfiction on and off for the past 17 years. Corny as it sounds, it feels like everything I've ever written has been leading up to this fic. I put my heart and soul into Palomino, and it's repaid me tenfold. It gave me the chance to write about my love for horses, to fall in love not only with cowboy Jack, but with Darlin', Teak, the entire cast and the horses, this whole universe that I built in my head. And it gave me all of you - the most wonderful, supportive friends and readers I've had the pleasure of writing for.

I hope I will have the chance to revisit the Palomino universe one day. But for now, I'm ridiculously proud for finishing this series and for giving it the ending it deserves. I don't think I will ever write a fic that I love so deeply again. Palomino was it for me, and I'm forever grateful that I got to share this incredible journey with all of you.

There are some special people I need to thank, please forgive me if I leave anyone out, I appreciate each and everyone of you ❤️

LJ @prolix-yuy: The wonderful friend and writer who made me fall in love with cowboy Jack in first place with her epic Westworld Whiskey series, which is also coming to an end next week. I've said this many times and I'll never stop saying it - there would've been no Palomino if not for LJ. Thank you for being my inspiration bestie, you are the literal best.

Ash @mandoblowmybackout: My OG bestie and fellow cat mum, one of the first people I screeched about cowboy Jack to, I treasure our friendship so much, thank you for your support.

Maddie @imaswellkid: Maddie, thank you for being in my corner throughout Palomino and for holding my hand when I need it (which is often). Talking to you about Palomino in person - well, talking about anything and everything to you in person - was one of the most surreal moments of last year, and I'm hoping it won't be long before I see you again.

Sil @psychedelic-ink: Sil, light of my life, thank you for always being there for me, for listening and talking me down from the ledge many times. I'm so lucky to have you, and to have you love cowboy Jack as much as I do. Talking to you is always the highlight of my day!

Peaches @ohsomightypeaches: Screaming at you/being screamed at by you about anything cowboy Jack is always so much fun, and not just Jack, but also Teak, Champ, etc.. Your love for this series is beyond infectious, thank you for your support and for always making me smile!

Skye @iamskyereads: Skye my love, I believe I was admiring you from afar when you popped up in my notifs with a reblog of the first chapter, and I remember how excited I was! So grateful that Palomino brought you into my life.

Heidi @wildemaven: Thank you for gifting Palomino with not one beautiful video edit, but also a gorgeous moodboard! You are an angel!

Jules @julesonrecord: My fellow cowboy aficionado, your enthusiasm for s'mores and Jack always makes me smile. Thank you for your support, truly.

Jo @mvtthewmurdvck: Thank you for listening to me rant and rave and holding my hand during my meltdown. I'm so grateful for you!

Snowsuit anon: It's always a joy to hear from you, and I will hold you forever responsible for sparking the snowsuit craze (affectionate) 💙 Thank you for your support my lovely!

A special shoutout to my lovely readers who have followed Palomino from the very beginning. Thank you for sticking with me, I really feel like we went on this trip together, all of us: @lola-lola-lola, @harriedandharassed, @witchisenpai, @miss-mandalorian, @fireproofmarta, @dreamymyrrh, @inkededucatednnerdy, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @freakrenaissance, @axshadows, @damnyoupedro, @thosewickedlovelies, @peridotsparadox, @radiowallet, @sherala007, @shirks-all-responsibilities

And needless to say, thank you for every single one of you (I wish I could tag everyone but we'll be here all day!), every comment, reblog, ask, tag for Palomino. You have been an absolutely joy to write for, your love and encouragement kept me going, I really don't know how I've been so lucky, y'all have my heart forever ❤️

Last but not least, thank you @saradika for these adorable dividers!

[djeniryuu]

Lee Minho Fic Recs (2021)

Last Updated: —

P.S.: Please let me know if any of the links aren’t working

a - angst, f - fluff, s - smut, ✔- completed

♡ - personal favourite

* - newly added

Stories by Year:

2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024

Oneshots:

⇢ 7 Days (3.7k) - (f) » university!au, best friends to lovers

⇢ 23:16 (1.2k) - (s) 

⇢ 24 Hours After Your Death (1.8k) - (a) ♡  » tw: death

⇢ Appetizer (2.4k) - (s)

⇢ Between the Lines (9.7k) - (f) » librarian!minho, student!au

⇢ By Now (17.6k) - (a, f, s) » friends with benefits to strangers to lovers

⇢ Crimson Rose (3k) - (a) » highschool!au

⇢ Dad!Minho (2.4k) - (a, f, s) » dad!minho, nanny!reader

⇢ Dilf!Minho (1.4k) - (s) » single dad!minho

⇢ Dumb and Ridiculous! (10k) - (f) » university!au, frenemies to lovers

⇢ Face Your Feelings (7.1k) - (f) » best friends to lovers, prosopagnosia

⇢ From Home (3.4k) - (a) » neighbours!au

⇢ Hymn of the Winds (5.5k) - (f) » arabian mythology, royal!au, husband!minho

⇢ If I Hated You… (0.4k) - (a, f)

⇢ Inexperienced (6.2k) - (s) » virgin!reader

⇢ Kingdom Come (3.4k) - (f, s) » royalty!au, prince!minho

⇢ Leave the Door Open (12.3k) - (a, f, s) ♡  » sugarbaby!au, friends with benefits to lovers

⇢ Life Support (0.6k) - (a)

⇢ Mischief & Mistletoe (8.1k) - (f) » friends to lovers

⇢ Of Poison Love & Never Agains (6k) - (a, f)  » royalty!au, prince!minho, princess!reader

⇢ Queen of the Night (9.7k) - (a, f) » royalty!au, king!minho, queen!reader

⇢ The Enemies to Lovers Project (18k) - (f) ♡  » enemies to lovers, university!au

⇢ The One That Got Away (2.4k) - (a)  » exes!au

⇢ The Other Girl (4.3k) - (a, f)  » university!au

⇢ They Cheat On You and Regret It (0.5k) - (a) 

⇢ Your Heart & Your Headache, Too (9.6k) - (f)  » strangers to lovers, god!minho

Series:

⇢ Meant to Be - (a, f, sm!au) ✔  » exes to lovers, social media!au

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,  Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15,  Part 16 (Final) 

⇢ Rival (12.9k) - (f, s) ✔  » office!au

Part 1, Part 2 (Final) 

⇢ Sanguis Limerence ft. Bang Chan (180k) - (a, f, s) ✔ ♡ » poly!au, vampire!au, action

Sanguis Limerence: Awakening (150k)

Sanguis Limerence: Origins (Individual Characters’ Backstory)

⇢ Trust Fall (107.6k) - (action, a, f) ✔  » spy!au, action

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5  Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10  Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15  Part 16, Part 17 (Final) 

[kiy-anna]

Am I Feeling Love?

Part 1 (You Are Here) Part 2 Part 3a Part 3b

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: From the moment Azul Ashengrotto heard of soulmates as a small child, he had a vision of a beautiful life with someone who was meant for him - regardless of what he was or would become…

Word count: 5.3k+

Warnings: Some Yandere elements

Notes: I wanted to thank @yanderloversworld on tumblr for the yandere!Azul w/ Soulmate S/O headcanons/backstory that I saw for inspiring this piece. I’ve never written anything like this before, but I wanted to give my hand at it - especially since it involves my favorite cecaelia character from twisted Wonderland. You can check it out here: https://www.tumblr.com/yandereloversworld/718766985773760512/yanazul-with-a-soulmate-so?source=share

The two songs used to inspire this story:

Am I Feeling Love? (The Thief and the Cobbler/Arabian Knight Soundtrack): https://youtu.be/NXYnClTZ4QY

One Day She'll Love Me (The Emperor's New Groove Soundtrack): https://youtu.be/8Sv3ECj7PdY

***I have an update! Part 2 now Available to read on my side blog @ashensgrotto***

***

I close my eyes and see his eyes

So soft and warm and clear

I dream awake of holding her

I dream that she’s right here

I sense in all his silences

More than his words could say

‘Don’t fight your feelings’ says my heart

A heart I will obey

***

“Azul… we need to talk.”

The sound of his mother’s broken voice pulled Azul’s attention to the larger cecaelia as all eight of his tiny tentacles stilled, each and every one of his appendages dropping an assortment of books, quills, and shells to the grotto’s floor as the silver-lavender haired boy looked upon his mother. The typically confident cecaelian now appeared scared and upset; her pale baby blue eyes were wide with worry and her ruby lips were set in a straight line - her heavy-set body swayed with the current that entered their home while her black-colored tentacles fidgeted nervously, the lavender underbelly of each appendage curling into itself repeatedly before releasing its grip on emptiness.

Azul stood, his own appendages curling inward, “Can this wait, momma? I’m very busy at the moment-”

“I’m afraid it can’t, baby,” his mother entered his room before perching herself on his bed, tapping the seafoam cushion, “come here.”

Azul sat beside his mother, looking down at his hands before looking up at his mother, who watched him with interest.

“Zully… the neighbors have told me they’ve seen you sneaking out at night,” his mother spoke quietly, “and it has been apparently going on for a while - without my knowledge. You and I both know that night is a terrible time to be going out, especially alone - you’re smart enough to know that you could’ve been seriously injured or killed by the creatures that lurk just beyond the reef of our city. Do you know how heartbroken I would be if I lost you?”

“I know, momma… but, I promise I have a good reason!”

“What good reason would you have for sneaking out in the middle of the night?”

“My soulmate.”

His mother looked taken back, her hand reaching to clutch the Nautilus shell necklace that rested on her collarbones as her already wide eyes widened further, “...S-Soulmate?”

“Yes!” Azul’s powder-blue eyes sparkled like gems in a treasure chest as a huge grin spread across his features, “I overheard some of the merkids talking about them at school a few weeks ago - o-of course I had initially thought they were talking about me, since I seem to come up in conversation here and there… but still! Oh, momma! To know that there’s someone out there that is literally MEANT to be WITH ME! Me! Azul Ashengrotto!”

“Zully, now wait a minute-”

“At first the concept did fascinate me,” Azul continued, slowly standing and moving to the opposite end of his room while ignoring his mother’s words, “and what intrigued me more than anything was that my soulmate would love and cherish every last thing about me - not the way the other merkids see me as; a pathetic, fat… ugly crying octopus fry that can’t even excel in studies or athletics. The silly little octo-twerp that’s an ink spiller.”

“Zully, you know that’s not-”

“But you know what momma? Thinking about my soulmate has made the days so much easier, even when I’m getting bullied - I think about them seeing what those other merkids are doing and they put a stop to it, saying things like, ‘Leave Azul alone! He’s not a pathetic little octo-twerp!’” Azul turned to his mother again, his tentacles writhing with excitement, “So, to be ready to meet them, I’ve been working to increase my knowledge - I want to be so powerful like the great Sea Witch herself that my soulmate will know who I am by sight alone! I’ve studied every book I could get my hands on and have memorized every single potion recipe there is available - even learning how to improve its effects and prolong them even! I’ve even studied every law text there is in the Atlantica public library - I have every law memorized word for word.”

His mother sighed, running a hand through her silvery locks, the motions creating little bubbles that appeared as she let out a sigh, “Azul, there’s something you should know-”

“As for the sneaking out,” Azul continued, throwing his hands behind his back as his fingers twisted together while he rocked back and forth on the edges of his eight appendages, “I was searching for my soulmate. I don’t know if they are here in the Coral Sea or not-”

“Azul, please listen to me-”

“But I wanted to see if I could find them. The first few nights after learning about their existence, I was having trouble sleeping - so I started doing a short swim to clear my head. I promise I wasn’t going too far away from the house! However, on those walks, it got me thinking that maybe instead of sleeping, I should be searching for them. There was no better use of my time than to strive for a better life with someone who must sense my loneliness like I sensed theirs…”

“...If they weren’t so rare, baby.”

Azul snapped to attention, his eyes wide, “W-What?”

His mother rested one hand on her knees while the other rubbed at her forehead, “Zully, I know and understand your longing to belong and to have a friend - trust me, I’ve been there. However, you can’t fixate on a single being that you hope to encounter at some point in your life. Finding that so-called ‘other half’ is like - well - like the story of the mermaid princess and her longing to be with a human. It’s a rare occurrence that only happens once in a millennium if not longer. Many times, people - humans, fae, and merfolk alike - often settle for someone they are content and happy with, someone that isn’t their other half.”

Azul stared in shock, inky tears threatening to spill down his chubby cheeks, as his hands balled into fists, “No! No! That isn’t true! What about you and daddy when he was alive?! Both of you were soulmates!”

“No we weren’t… At least, I don’t think we were,” Azul’s mother came forward, resting a hand gingerly on her son’s shoulder, “Anyone can be happy with or without their soulmate, Azul. There’s no reason you should go to such lengths to be with someone who may not even exist. You may not even meet them in this lifetime, either…”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Azul pushed her away, anger bubbling up as his tentacles writhed in anger, his vision becoming blurry as ink spilled down his face as he snapped at his mother and guardian, “HOW DARE YOU!? You DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT the CONNECTION BETWEEN SOULMATES! THEY FEEL AS I FEEL! THAT CONNECTION IS WHAT MAKES US UNIQUE!! An UNBREAKABLE BOND that CAN NEVER BE SEVERED!! And how DARE you CHEAT on your OWN SOULMATE!”

“Azul! Now wait a minute!” his mother raised her voice, “I’ve been around the bend a few more times than you have and know about these sorts of things. I WILL NOT ALLOW this behavior to continue in my house!”

“Fine! Then I’ll leave!”

“Azul! Where are you going?! Azul!!”

But the little cecaelia was gone, swimming as fast as he could away from his mother’s typically loving embrace. 

‘How could she?!’ he mind was running as he sped up to get further and further away from his home, ‘How could she say that? Why momma… why?!’

He was sniffing hard when he arrived at his hidden octopot, big ugly fat tears of black rolling down his chubby cheeks while mucus dribbled down his nose, running into his open mouth as he gasped out big grotesque sobs. He pulled himself along enough to climb into the pot, his appendages pulling him into the confined space as comfort slowly surrounded his shaking form. One tentacle came forward, wiping at the tears in his eyes as Azul allowed his hearts to calm down. 

He wrapped his arms around himself as he looked out into the darkness of the Coral Sea; the pale moonlight reflected off the caverns that surround Azul’s hiding spot, the water growing colder and colder with each passing hour as several sea creatures passed over - not that Azul noticed though. Normally, he would have been interested in what creatures came out at night - but the words his mother spoke forced a jolt of pain on all three of his hearts.

“You can’t fixate on a single being that you hope to encounter at some point in your life,” her words echoed in his mind over and over, “Finding that so-called ‘other half’ is like - well - like the story of the mermaid princess and her longing to be with a human. It’s a rare occurrence that only happens once in a millennium if not longer. Anyone can be happy with or without their soulmate, Azul. There’s no reason you should go to such lengths to be with someone who may not even exist…”

‘What if she’s right?’ he thought, his tentacles tightening around his body, ‘What if I never find them? What if they think the same way she does? What if… what if they’ve already been taken from me?!’

His eyes narrowed as a darkness slowly filled them, glaring out into the cruel twisted world from the darkness of his octopot. No, even if his soulmate was already claimed he would’ve known - he would know if they were, he’d felt it; the tangling of another soul within his if his other half were to be mated to another without his consent. However, that hadn’t happened yet.

…for now.

Azul curled deeper into himself, his thoughts growing darker and darker as he made plans to continue his search for his other half; his beloved soulmate. He wouldn’t give up the search, even if he died trying. He wanted to see them; see what they looked like and to hear their sweet voice, to feel a sense of belonging… to protect what was rightfully his.

***

I'd never imagined before that the world could be turned on its head

I'd never have thought to be here in this place

I'd never have dreamt that in love I'd be lost and so easily led

I guess I was caught by that hint of a smile on her face

***

“Azul-chan, are we almost finished here?” a figure on the cecaelian’s left muttered, “I’m bored.”

“Floyd,” the figure on Azul’s right spoke up, murmuring and pressing a finger to his lips, “There are still some students that need to be housed. Just be a little bit more patient.”

“Speaking of which,” Azul eyed the two carefully, “Any news from our sources, Jade?”

“It’s rather difficult to track down something when we ourselves don’t know what we’re looking for,” the second figure - Jade - answered softly, “A description usually helps in these circumstances, Azul.”

“Perhaps,” the cecaelian shrugged indifferently, “however, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what I’m looking for, myself.”

The two second-in-commands looked at each other, confusion crossing their features.

Ten years had passed slowly since that terrible day when Azul’s mother planted the first seeds of doubt into her son’s head, her chiding and the doubts never leaving him completely. However, that did not stop him from continuing his search for his other half - exhausting himself beyond belief. By the time Azul was twelve - nearly five years following his discovery of the existence of soulmates - he had searched every crevice of the Coral Sea with no luck; it was also around this time that he met the Leech twins - Floyd and Jade. 

Jade was the oldest of the two by a few minutes and was very resourceful as well as very soft-spoke and courteous; his younger brother, Floyd, on the other hand was unpredictable due to his mood swings - he could be interested in one thing one minute and grow bored of it the next. The two moray mers had come across Azul during his younger days when they were in the same class together, watching with awe as his eight appendages hovered about his hidden grotto, writing inscriptions on shells and flipping through pages of grimoires. Originally, they weren’t sure what to make of him, but now that they knew about his capabilities from stories they heard about someone granting wishes for a price - the two were now invested in keeping Azul close to their sides.

And vice versa.

Eventually, the question of why he was doing it came up; Azul took the time to explain the story about how he had first learned about soulmates and how he had been searching the past five years for his, eventually coming to the conclusion that his other half was nowhere in the Coral Sea.

“I have searched every nook and cranny of these waters and have yet to find them,” Azul explained, pouring ingredients into a cauldron as he spoke, “Thus, I’m ‘using my resources’ to spread out the search for my other half.”

“So, some of your deals include gathering any information about a particular person whom you’ve never met nor spoken to?” Jade asked, very intrigued by Azul’s train of thought.

“Hah… sound boring,” Floyd chimed in, reclining atop of one of the rocks in the grotto.

“It’s more interesting than it sounds,” Azul answered, popping a cork off a bottle and dumping the contents into the cauldron as the liquid turned from pale pink to eerie green, “besides, the sooner I find them, the better off they’ll be. However, the problem here lies that if they’re not in the Coral Sea - then where are they?”

Neither of the twins could supply an answer.

It was also around this time that Azul’s appearance had also changed. Baby fat melted and hardened into muscle while his gut and belly dissolved into toned skin, chubby cheeks evolved into high cheekbones; his face sharpening into arched brows, thin lips, and a pointed nose - though his eyes, now filled with knowledge and pride, remained the same. Gone was - in Azul’s opinion - the fat crying octo-twerp of his youth as a handsome, defined sea witch stood in his place; a perfect figure that his soulmate would be proud of once they set sights on him.

The dramatic weight-loss and muscle built scared, not only Jade and Floyd, but also his own mother - whom he did speak to on seldom occasions due to her connections as the owner of the Atlantica Grotto Bistro, which was slowly becoming a local hot spot and where Azul worked full time as a waiter and assistant manager. It was also where he would lure unsuspecting victims - mainly those from his youth or clients with means - into signing his newly-perfected golden contracts, sealing their powers away for his own in exchange for whatever it was that they wished for. Of course, Azul’s mother never suspected a thing about her son’s side business - now a bit preoccupied with the courtship of an older squid mer who had slowly made a presence in her life as well as teaching Azul the fundamentals of building his own business.

When Azul, Jade, and Floyd reached the age of sixteen, they were invited to attend Night Raven College - a boys’ prestigious school for young mages. Azul’s mother had been proud of Azul’s accomplishment and Azul, himself, was secretly thankful that he would be given the chance to explore a different world versus hearing things through the grape vines from his sources. It was during his first year of attending that he made a name for himself, following practically in his mother’s and the Sea Witch’s footsteps; he was now the headwarden and the owner of the Mostro Lounge that his dorm - Octavinelle - operated on the school property. He also was the student others went to when they needed help or had a wish that only he could grant. Jade and Floyd both helped as well, taking his place into luring potential clients into his clutches.

Now, the three of them were entering their second year at NRC - and Azul was barely hanging on by a thread. For the past year on land - thanks to the potion he created that would allow himself, Jade, and Floyd to attend the school as humans - Azul had used his network of informants to extend his search for his other half.

He never forgot the promise he made to continue his search for his soulmate - the contracts were just a starting point to his grand scheme for searching for the person who would love and cherish him as no other could. By building a name for himself, Azul essentially had been given enough money to spend as much as he pleased for information about any leads and his extensive network of informants were at his beck-and-call should he need them to snoop out any potential tips he heard. He had cleared out both Harveston during winter break the previous year and the Queendom of Roses as well as the Shaftlands the previous summer before he was summoned to return to Night Raven. Sunset Savanna would be next on his list during the winter break this year and he would attempt Briar Valley over the summer.

But even that wasn't soon enough it seemed.

Azul’s spirit was practically crying out with each failed search, lead, and tip - nearly to the point that his soul was exhausted and he found himself hearing his mother’s chiding words in his inner ear again. But he was stubborn - incredibly so; and he made plans before leaving his home city again to extend any knowledge to him from outside the school’s barriers.

Azul sighed as the last first year was placed into their dorm, forcing a smile as he addressed his new students, crossing his arms over his chest, "New students! I congratulate you on your achievement. As the dorm head of Octavinelle, I am honored to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.”

"Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went?" Azul arched his brow as the dorm head of Pomefiore, Vil Schoenheit, spoke, “He disappeared midway through the ceremony…”

"Some headmage he is," Idia Shroud, the head of Ignihyde, grumbled from his tablet that hovered in the chamber.

"Maybe he had a tummy ache?" the ever naive dorm head of Scarabia - Kalim Al-Asim - asked with a shrug.

The doors burst open as the head mage himself appeared, shouting, "I most certainly did not!"

"Ah, speak of the devil," Riddle Rosehearts, the dorm head of Heartslabyul, grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"If you must know," the headmage continued, pulling a cloaked figure along with him, their slender wrist tight in his grasp, "I was searching for the new student who failed to show for orientation. Come along, you are the only one who hasn't been assigned to a dorm - step up to the dark mirror and be quick about it. I'll hold onto your weasel."

Azul watched as the headmage pulled the figure along, causing them to stumble slightly, before he released them. The cloaked figure lifted their head, taking a tentative step towards the mirror as the headmage held tightly onto another being - a little gray cat creature with burning fire in his ears with eyes wider than saucer plates. Something about the shy figure had drawn Azul utmost attention as they stood before the dark mirror.

“State your name,” the mirror spoke, its voice deep and dark.

“I’m (Y/N),” you spoke, so quiet that everyone had to strain to hear them.

“(Y/N)... The nature of your soul is…” the dark mirror hesitated, narrowing its pitch-black eyes before announcing, “...unclear to me.”

“What did you just say?” the headmage crossed his arms over his chest as a murmur rippled through the crowd.

“I sense no magical power from this one,” the dark mirror answered, voice grim, “Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant… Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate.”

With his final answer, the headmage let out a cry, “Are you suggesting the black carriage went to recieve a person who cannot even use magic?! That is absurd! The student selection process has not erred once in its century of existence!”

As head headmage continued to squawk in surprise, Azul nearly felt his heart stop in his chest when you looked in his direction.

As soon as your eyes locked with his, Azul knew.

His soulmate was here.

You were a pretty (h/c) with tints of (f/c) weaved into locks that framed your soft features hidden under the black and gold hood of the ceremonial robe you wore, the exotic eyes of (e/c) filled with wonder and surprise - with an underlying hint of fear, likely due to the shock of being called ‘abnormal’ by a piece of looking-glass. You looked about a few inches shorter than him - a perfect height for him to rest his chin upon your head - as a pleasant pink painted your cheeks, turning them into red delicious apples that tempted Azul to take a bite, and your jaw dropped slightly, lips parting with surprise. 

Azul knew that you could feel the strong connection between your two souls - the pull he had searched the past decade for finally presenting itself in the shape of you. He found himself unable to look away, staring at you with quiet longing and lovestruck clearly written across his features.

“Azul?” Jade snickered, “What is-”

“I think octy just found what he was lookin’ for, Jade,” Floyd snickered, his eyes shifting between the startled first-year and their lovestruck boss.

“I quite agree,” Jade’s voice came out sickly smooth as his eyes shifted between the three of them, “this has just gotten interesting…”

Azul hardly noticed though the twins’ snickers in his ears, his thoughts were already running wild with ideas of how he wanted to spoil you - his found other half, his precious mate. 

The problem now was that you were a non-magic user and a female to boot - nevermind that you had just been put on display like an exotic animal. The whispers that echoed in the chamber forced you to look away from the lovestruck second-year, your body quivering with fear and unease as he himself was brought back to reality.

‘How DARE they insult her while in my presence?’ Azul felt a growl bubble up in the back of his throat, his pale blues shifting from the crowd to his mate to the headmage and back again as his hands curled into fists under the sleeves of his cloak, ‘And how DARE the dark mirror put (Y/N) in this situation!’

“Headwardens,” the headmage’s voice echoed in the chamber, silencing every whisper as he took control of the situation, “please escort your students back to the dorms as the orientation is now complete.”

“What about (Y/N)?” the voice of Coach Vargas spoke up, “Surely you are not expecting someone like her to remain here?”

‘And you’re first on the list of people who will suffer my wrath for saying something so hostile to my mate,’ Azul thought, thinking of what the best way would be to attack the coach indirectly.

“This is a most unfortunate turn of events, yes,” the headmage agreed, tapping his chin in thought, “Due to you being female and that you are a non-magic user, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to attend Night Raven College. You seem like an amicable young lady, however this is an all-boy’s school and I cannot admit a student - male or female - with no magical ability. But fear not, the dark mirror will see you safely home.”

‘NO! You CAN’T!’ Azul was barely holding himself together at this point - he had just found his soulmate and now the world wanted the two of them to be separated forever?! He would not allow it! 

Before he could act on impulse, the mirror’s deep voice echoed in the chamber, “There is no such place.”

“What?!” Crowley squawked again as murmurs rose from the crowd yet again.

“There is no place in this world where this soul belongs,” the dark mirror answered again, “None.”

“H-How can that be?!” Crowley asked, his hands shaking with an inner rage, “My, but today is a veritable cavalcade of impossible phenomena! This has never happened throughout my long tenure. I must confess I am at something of a loss.”

Azul could sense the sadness radiating from his mate as well. Were you disappointed that you couldn’t return from wherever you had come from? And if so, why would you want to go back if now you knew of his existence?

Perhaps a little persuasion was needed…

Azul smiled darkly, before taking a step forward, clearing his throat, “Headmage Crowley, I understand that all of us are at a loss of what to do with our strange guest - however, may I offer a solution to our little problem?”

“Master Ashengrotto,” Headmage Crowley crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m not certain what you mean. We must send (Y/N) back to where they came from.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Azul countered, shrugging while keeping his eyes trained on the headmage while he faked a painful look, “It is easy to return us to our homes, but we have no idea where she comes from - or if we can even get her back.”

“T-There must be a way though… right?” you spoke up, your eyes pleading with Azul’s.

“I hate to agree with Azul, but he’s right,” a tan-skinned, dark-haired figure spoke up, “If this herbivore is from another world entirely, the chances of getting them back are slim to none.”

“Leona is quite right on the money with that one,” Vil answered with a nod.

Azul smiled, knowing that the ripples of shock and disbelief were now falling onto the headmage for being incompetent in dealing with this matter. He couldn’t turn (Y/N) away now that Azul had spoken up with two additional dorm heads also taking his side.

“What do you propose then?” Headmage Crowley asked, eyeing the headwarden of Octavinelle uneasily.

“Octavinelle, as I’m sure you remember, has plenty of rooms for rent,” Azul answered, turning to (Y/N) with a reassuring smile, “As the dorm head, I will gladly take (Y/N) into my dorm where she can stay during her time here. If she’s agreeable, she can work within the Mostro Lounge to pay for a place to sleep and to have food in her belly.”

“I’m not sure, Master Ashengrotto…” Crowley spoke, rubbing his chin with a clawed gloved hand, “a single woman in a dorm filled with boys is highly improper…”

“Improper would be the term used for the predicament your so-called black carriage put you in,” Azul snipped, his eyes flashing dangerously at the headmage, “Besides - the rooms we rent are on the opposite side of the aquarium in our dorm, quite a ways away from the rooms the dorm members reside in for that particular purpose. We also have security within our dorm and I’m usually the one to deal with matters of… problematic nature.”

“Perhaps, however-”

“Consider it one less problem on your plate as well. If (Y/N) is brought to my dorm, I will take full responsibility for her - and I might be able to find a way to get her home in the process as well.”

“You what?” your eyes widen with hope, your hand reaching out and clasping the edge of his robe.

“I have an endless network of resources at my disposal, my dear - I can likely find you a quicker way to get home than you can with anyone else here,” Azul answered confidently, thinking, ‘Though you won’t know that since I found you. I’ve searched high and low for you, I’ll be damned if I let you slip from my grasp so easily.’

“Very well then,” Headmage Crowley let out a sigh, “(Y/N), are you agreeable with staying with the Octavinelle dorm and working at the Mostro Lounge until Master Ashengrotto can find a way to return you to your world?”

“Of course! Thank you so much, Mr. Ashengrotto!” you beamed with joy.

“Azul,” the dorm head answered with a nod, “please, call me Azul.”

“Azul, then.”

The human-cecaelian smiled sweetly at his soulmate and offered an arm out, his hearts practically bursting with joy when you slipped your own arm through his - the two of you now link together via soul and side by side.

***

Azul brought you to the Octavinelle’s renting dorm after ordering Jade and Floyd to start the welcoming party for the first years as well as to get them ready for tomorrow night.

“Do what you need to do,” Azul smiled at the two.

“Of course.”

“You got it, boss!”

When the two of them were out of earshot, you looked up at Azul, “Thank you so much for your help back there. I wasn’t certain what was going to happen if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Likely the headmage would have thrown you out of the college and left you to fend for yourself,” Azul smiled, “but I, on the other hand, would never allow something so pitifully disgusting happen to you.”

You giggled, the sound pulling on Azul’s heartstrings.

‘She’s here, she’s real,’ his thoughts quickened as the two continued their leisurely pace, ‘I knew that she was real, that she and I would meet. It will only be a matter of time now - once she confesses her feelings for me, I will make her mine.’

The two stopped outside one of the doors, Azul pulled out a key ring and unlocked it before ushering his soulmate inside.

“You can stay here,” Azul answered, peering around and wishing that it was cleaner than it was now, “There’s spare blankets in the closet in case you get cold during the night and fresh towels in the bathroom. I’ll have Jade or Floyd bring you a spare pair of clothing since you’ve brought nothing with you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to…”

“I insist,” Azul answered, “What sort of host would I be if I didn’t provide the best service?”

You giggled again, your smile even wider, “Well, thank you again Azul.”

Each time you spoke his name, Azul’s heart gave a leap of joy. 

He coughed, blushing slightly, “W-Well then, should you need anything during your time here, just let me know.”

“Of course, but - may I ask a question?”

“You already have,” Azul  snickered at you.

Your pout was adorable that Azul burst into laughter before you asked, “Why were you willing to help me? A complete stranger?”

“I have a gift for sensing someone in need,” Azul answered, his grin spreading wider over his features, “I have helped many poor unfortunate souls in my short lifetime and intend on continuing to offer my services in exchange for something.”

“What sort of payment?”

“Depends - but it isn’t something you should worry about. I like to keep a few things in my personal life private - regardless of my relationships with other people.”

“Of course, I can respect that.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Azul reached out, pushing the hood down and stroking your  soft hair gently, “Why don’t you rest now? I have to attend the welcome party for the new students and make sure no one is destroying anything in my absence. I will have Jade or Floyd bring you something to eat in a little bit along with that fresh change of clothes. Tomorrow, we’ll discuss our contract.”

“Contract?”

“I always have my employees sign a business contract before they begin work - regardless how long they work in the lounge for,” Azul answered, “It helps to have things in writing when dealing with problems later down the road.”

With a nod, you grinned, “Thank you again, Azul-san.”

The cecaelia couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling away and leaving his other half to stare at him in shock and surprise. 

When the door clicked behind him, Azul pulled the keyring out and locked the door to prevent anyone from entering and you from leaving. His eyes gleamed menacingly in the low light as a black gloved hand stroked the doorframe gently.

‘At last… you’re here with me, my precious pearl. Forgive me, but now that I have seen you… I can never let you go…’

[anony-geist]

Jonathan Harker and Doomed Bride imagery:

-Lenore (May 4th-5th): Directly referenced ('Denn die Todten reiten schnell') on the carriage ride on St. George's Eve, when evil surfaces. Jonathan, covered with flowers and a crucifix, rides with his own disguised Death all night to arrive at his octagonal room and bed, like Lenore who is supposedly led to her marriage bed, which is actually her tomb. Death and the maiden.

-Shahrazad (May 7th-8th): Jonathan, after engaging Dracula in telling him his history, says that his diary resembles the beginning of Arabian Nights. The story's heroine, Shahrazad, is the new bride of a cruel vizier who kills his own wives (on their wedding night). She distracts his wrath and delays her own doom by engaging him in storytelling. She is meant to be the next victim, once he is done with her.

An obvious parallel is May 8th, but that night it's Dracula who speaks. Jonathan is the one who normally tells stories every night, until dawn. “Why, there is the morning again!” Dracula says. Jonathan says that this nocturnal existence has been taking a toll on him.

One thing is for certain. Like her, Jonathan is next.

-Bluebeard's Bride (May 7th+May 12+May 15): Not directly referenced in the novel, however, Jonathan bears a strong resemblance to Bluebeard's new bride being warned by her lord husband to never open a forbidden room in his mansion. She disobeys and enters it. She finds the corpses of his old brides, like trophies, which he had killed. She, again, is meant to be next.

Jonathan gets warned three times and indeed disobeys, opens the room, and finds (un)dead women who the Count once loved. We find out he is to be the fourth eternally entrapped victim in their company.

Two of these stories feature a powerful noble with a brand new wife he intends to kill, like his previous ones. In both stories she delays her fate by being diplomatic and playing along for survival. Two have the theme of execution on their wedding bed. As intimate as a bite on the throat on their final night.

[selfishdoll]

❛favorite groupie...❜ ━━ ft. vamp! sukuna

SUMMARY ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

the last thing you wanted to do was go to a vampire bar just because your best friend’s favorite fanged band was playing. but you did.. and met a certain pink haired drummer whose way too cocky for his own good. luckily, you just love matching energy.

CONTENT WARNING ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

vampires so mentions of blood, bloodsucking, period blood, etc. | self-indulgent asf (reader wears glasses) | semi-public sex | sukuna is a drummer & vampire | ooc sukuna | mean dom! sukuna | praise & degradation | use of the word “groupie” to mock at first but later used as a term of endearment(?) | “pet names” (pretty, doll, minx, sweetheart, etc) | strangers to lovers(? there may be a part two to this) | rough sex | manhandling | throat fucking | sukuna comes on reader’s glasses | pussy drunk sukuna & cock drunk reader | tipsy sex (buzzed really) | sukuna & reader match energy fr. try to see who folds first | denied orgasms | spanking | fingering | etc. if i forgot something tell me please.

NOTE ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

this story is heavily inspired by the old show “true blood” that i am currently obsessed with. that’s where i get the idea of a vampire bar & the term “fang-banger.” you will see several vamp fics because they’re literally my favorite supernatural creature. also, sukuna is gonna be ooc cause i’m sensitive & can’t make characters too mean 😞. also this got longer then i wanted it to so it’s like 5k+ words. as always please excuse any typos & grammar mistakes.

Arabian Night burned upon the decorated holder rested on your vanity, the subtle notes of hyacinth and carnation tainting the atmosphere— warming the area around you. Your dark eyes were glued to the mirror, staring back at yourself delicately gliding the tube of mascara along your lashes, careful to assure no product got into your eye.

“I can’t believe you’re really making me go to a vampire bar.” The words left your glossed and lined lips in a hiss, eyes rolling the moment you heard your friend attempt to defend herself on facetime. To be frank you didn’t hate vampires. There weren’t many differences between them and humans. They were both beings that simply fed on other things to survive.

A hamburger to a human was no different then blood to a vampire.

But, you still did your best to avoid them. Which was easy since they were limited on when they come out and most establishments didn’t allow them in. Your friend knew this, knew your justifiable fear of being some vampire’s next meal— yet urged and lowkey manipulated you to going to a vampire bar.

“They’re only here for a week! We’re the first place they’re touring— we have to go!”

Through many days of urging, guilt trips, and puppy eyes you caved; declaring it would be cool to see a vampire’s world or even interact with them. You were still scared but the fear was sure to melt, right?

You rose from the plush pink chair, stepping back into the view of the full body mirror pressed against your wall. Placing your glasses back on, you looked over your form, searching for any imperfections. The outfit was simple; a red cropped edhardy jacket, your lacey white bra poking out from underneath. You wore dark blue jeans with a red belt, white thong straps resting high on your hips. You pursed your lips a bit, gliding your fingers through the honey brown lace you wore, watching the curls bounce perfectly. With another glance over and a push of your glasses you were satisfied, sliding your sock covered feet into some white sneakers— grabbing your other necessary belongings shortly after.

You exited your home locking up behind yourself and heading towards your car. You would have driven with your friend but there was a chance she would end up under the arm of some hot vampire.

“Fang-banger..” Was the simple word that escaped your glossed lips, grinning just a tad as you turned the engine over. She would be pissed to hear you call her that.

After about fifty minutes of driving you arrived to the bar, the entrance surrounded by people. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the anxiety rose. Sure humans were welcome and you’ve heard relatively good things about this particular establishment.. but there were still vampires.

A being that could end you in a single bite.

The thought alone caused you to shiver, shutting your car off and squeezing the steering wheel. You gave yourself a few moments before pulling your hands away, releasing a deep breath and opening your car door. Exiting it, you closed and locked the vehicle; turning in time to see a bubbly woman rushing towards you.

You instinctively opened your arms, eyes rolling as she practically tossed herself into them. You grumbled as kisses were pressed to your cheek, your best friend thanking you over and over again for coming.

“Yeah, yeah— whatever.” You mused, ignoring her hands groping your ass. Your hands lowered to her shoulders, pushing back a bit. “The band is gonna start soon, right? Come on.”

“Oh, right!” She grinned, pulling away whilst locking her hand around your wrist. You were then tugged towards the bar entrance, your free hand gripping your sleeve nervously. Your eyes peered up at the woman beside the door, her red colored lips pulling into a tiny grin at the sight of you and your friend.

A very toothy grin.

“IDs?” She questioned in a velvety tone, eyes focused on you for a split moment— as if sensing your nervousness. You breathed, reaching into the handbag you carried and grabbing your wallet. There you grabbed your identification, passing it to her while your friend did the same.

The woman glanced over the cards for a moment before nodding, passing them back to you two. “You’re all set, have fun girls.” She winked, stepping to the side to let you both inside.

Your friend giggled excitedly as you entered the bar, your eyes dancing around the area. It was a normal bar really; regular tables, a medium sized stage, and a dance floor. People of many different ethnicities — and species — danced and conversed, enjoying drinks and each other. Seeing a vampire feeding in real life was completely abnormal to the point you couldn’t look away.

“Don’t stare so much, it’s rude.” Your best friend whispered, stealing your attention from the scene. You went to apologize, her only smiling and shaking her head. “Here, let’s get some drinks.” She led you over to the bar, the two of you sitting down as she gained the bartender’s attention. She ordered two simple shots, the man nodding and getting right to them.

“I just.. never expected something like this.” You murmured, eyes dancing about. You did your best on not focusing too hard on a vampire sinking their teeth into someone’s neck or a couple basically humping on the dance floor; instead finding interest in the gothic decor and paintings that depicted the bloodsuckers. You turned back to your friend after the once over, giving a nervous smile. “I expected something bad, I guess.”

Your friend shrugged, flashing a gentle smile— thanking the bartender once your drinks were placed down. “A lot of people do. They hear vamp bar and think the worst.” She spoke softly, grasping her shot glass, watching you grab your own. “Even though I forced you.. I’m really happy you came.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, clinking your glass against hers. “Whatever slut.” You downed your drink, listening to the small snort that escaped your friend before she downed her own.

During this the lights on the stage flicked on, members of the bar shouting in excitement. Your friend did the same, turning in her seat at the bar with the widest grin. “They’re here!”

You could only smile at her excitement for her favorite vampire band known as Malevolence. You forced yourself to listen to their most recent music to appease your friend and while you didn’t hate the songs, it just wasn’t something you could get into.

Sigh.. the things you did for friendship.

You rested against your palm, watching as four individuals trudging on stage. Your eyes traced their forms, not overly impressed until you moved onto the last member. The drummer. He was.. better looking then the other three. Tall with pink hair and a black undercut. He wasn’t slim but wasn’t large either, right in the middle. Along with his physique were tattoos along his arms, the rest of his body covered in a black muscle shirt, baggy pants for bottoms.

“Who’s the drummer?” You questioned, eyes glancing at the bartender and requesting another shot. Your friend blinked as she turned, flashing a smile.

“His name’s Sukuna!” Her smile morphed a bit, a little coy now. “He’s not well liked by the media. He’s a little mean.”

You believed her, given how he scowled at a few fans that shouted his name. Even snapping at his bandmates for something briefly. Any interest you had melted away in that instant.

You straightened as they finished setting up the stage, the guitarist stringing his instrument a few times. You smiled at the bartender as he passed your shot, thanking him and taking a swig.

Soon enough, Malevolence started its first song of the night— the bar singing along to the rough voice of the band. You had to admit, it was nice to hear live and see humans bond over their shared love for the music.

You didn’t totally regret coming here.

The band played for about an hour and a half, fans close to the stage attempting to touch and or be touched by the fanged members. It was all entertaining to see, you and your friend taking several videos for your social media.

They closed out their show around ten o’clock, thanking the audience. You cheered along with the others, grinning and turning to your friend. “That was a lot of fun. They sound so good.”

“I know right!” She giggled, completely geeking out about the band. You listened to her ramble intently, the buzz of the alcohol lighting your senses. During her words, however, she suddenly placed a hand onto her stomach. “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!”

“Take your time.” You waved the girl off as she rushed over to the bathroom, body turning to face the bar. You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your social media for a moment, simply waiting.

That was until you heard the chair two seats down be moved, followed by an annoyed voice.

“Piss off already. I’m not interested.”

It was no surprise your nosy self turned to spot the one and only Sukuna sitting at the bar, waving off a few girls that surrounded and attempted to touch him. The dejected expressions that clung to their featured nearly saddened you, if amusement didn’t interrupt the emotion.

You took a long stare at the man, watching as he instructed the bartender to pour him a glass of some liquid in a tall dark bottle; not even thanking him once he was served. You hadn’t realized your eyes were still on him until the man turned in his chair, facing you.

“You need something? I already said I’m not interested.”

You blinked a bit, snapping out of your trance whilst placing your arm against the bar. You sucked your teeth, turning. “Do I look like a fang banger to you?” You questioned, tone a little rude. From the corner of your eye you spotted the man taking a sip from the glass, tongue gliding across his bottom lip.

“No.” Sukuna started softly, fingers tapping against the short glass. “More like some needy groupie.” His tone was mocking, watching in amusement as you turned to face him with a subtle snarl.

It took a moment for you to reply, raising your shot glass and downing the rest of the alcohol. The burning sensation covered your body, melting your usual filter away. “Even if I was a groupie, I would try to fuck the singer— even the guitarist.” You murmured, knowing his inhuman ears would pick up each word. “Not some vamp that beats on the drums.”

His eyebrows rose, releasing a breathy chuckle as he took another gulp from his glass. You watched carefully, breathing the moment you noticed the hint of red staining his fangs. How his tongue glided to collect the residue, clearly enjoying the liquid you now realized was blood. Sukuna’s eyes landed on you once again, the glass clinking against the bar the moment he placed it down.

“You got a lot of mouth.. defending yourself pretty hard too.”

“And you’re implying?”

Sukuna gave a crooked grin, tapping the counter to which the bartender stepped over to fill his glass back up. “You’re just trynna convince yourself you don’t want me. Scared of being a fang banger?” The vampire’s tone was mocking again, enjoying the way you glared and snarled.

“Please.” You hissed softly, shifting in your seat, ignoring the warmth flooding through your body. “Ain’t shit to be scared of. Vampires are no different from a human man.”

To your surprise the man began to laugh, hunched over the bar with his forehead nearly pressing against the brown wood. You felt your cheeks flush with warmth the moment eyes turned to your spot at the bar, sinking into yourself.

“Sweetheart—“ He begun, laughter ceasing into nothing more than a snort. “I assure you I’m different than any other human man that you’ve been with.”

“Why, because you’re cold with no beating heart?”

“No, cause I’ll fuck the attitude out of you permanently.” Sukuna responded far too quickly, watching you gape like a fish for a moment, finally deciding to keep your mouth shut and turning to face the bar. He smirked at this, leaning on his elbow and tilting his head. “Cat got your tongue?”

You closed your eyes, breathing softly. You weren’t a fang-banger, you tried to convince yourself; attempting to ignore how much you were closing your legs together— avoiding his eyes that just highlighted he knew what you were abstaining from.

But as a moment of silence passed you felt that restraint dwindle. Whether the alcohol, Sukuna, or just you being fucking reckless— any logical part of your brain was rendered useless.

So, while pushing your glasses up you turned to face his awaiting gaze. “Prove it.” You dared softly, tilting your head at him.

Sukuna’s mouth quirked, tongue running along his bottom lip as he turned to the bartender. “Put it on my tab. Hers too.” He spoke, rising from his barstool. His hands found his pockets, motioning for you to follow with a tilt of his head. Rather quickly — embarrassingly so — you grabbed your things, following close behind him.

“My name is (Y/N), not her.”

“Think I like sweetheart better.” Sukuna spoke, leading you towards a door stationed beside the stage. You shouldered your bag as the two of you entered backstage, coming to a hallway. Three doors rested on the walls, you following the vampire who lead you to the one at the end of the hall.

He turned the knob, pushing open the door to reveal a simple room. A black vanity, a red sofa, with a black coffee table in the middle. Sukuna closed the door behind you, watching you for a moment as you bent to place your phone and purse down.

You turned, breathing softly the moment he stepped close to you. Your eyes traveled from his chest up to his face, licking your lips nervously. The man tilted his head with a little smirk.

“You were so damn cocky at the bar.. thinking of backing out?”

The nerves seemed to melt in that moment, stepping a bit closer, rising up to allow your lips to brush. “Sukuna.. are you gonna fuck the attitude out of me, or are you gonna keep talking?” Your eyes flicked between his lips and his dark eyes, gasping the moment you felt a cool hand rising to the back of your neck.

Wordlessly he leaned down, planting his lips against your own. His kiss was rough, stealing your breath away all while his tongue bullied it’s way past your pretty glossed lips. The wet, long muscle curled and slid against your own, licking into your mouth and claiming it as his own. The messy sounds of your lips surrounded the room, your soft moans following.

Sukuna’s hand moved to rest on your throat, thumb pressing against it just to feel you gulp. You pulled away for air, hissing the moment his fangs dragged across your bottom lip, nicking the sensitive skin. He chased your lips for another kiss, licking away the little droplet of blood whilst moving you backwards.

Your hands rose to grip his body, feeling your back press against a wall. You gasped in his mouth as you felt his hand slide down your body, catching the zipper of your cropped jacket and pulling it down your body. The cool air brushed your cleavage, moaning softly the moment his fingers found your hardened nipple under the thin fabric of your bra.

You pulled back, head resting against the wall; whining the moment he pinched your covered bud. “Sukuna, quit fucking teasing.” You hissed, chest rising into his hand for more. The vampire grinned down at you, removing his hand from your breast to instead trail down your body, flicking the belt you wore; buttons of your jeans following.

Now with enough space his hand was entering your pants, two fingers pressing against your wet, covered slit. “Already a fucking mess and I barely touched you.” The drummer commented, face pressing against your collarbone, dragging his fangs across your warm skin. You whined as his fingers found your clit through the fabric of your panties, legs widening and hips rising for more friction. Sukuna chuckled at this, fingertips pressing against the swollen bud, rubbing harsh circles upon it. “Opening your legs for a vampire like this— oh, what a minx you are.”

“Piss off.” You mustered, attempting to keep your resolve in tact. You cried out however, the moment he pinched your clit, the light pleasure and pain melding together.

“Still mouthing off huh?” Sukuna spoke, pulling away from your neck, hand rising to grab your cheeks. His thumb pressed against your lips for a moment before pushing into your mouth, pressing against your tongue all while his fingers entered your panties. The man didn’t tease this time, covering the digits in your slick before sliding them into your damp entrance. He wasted no time in curling the digits inside you, pressing against your gummy walls and growing closer to allow his palm to grind against your clit. A toothy grin was sent your way the moment he felt and heard your muffled moans, fingers scissoring inside your messy pussy, the wet squelches entering the room.

The muffled gasp of his name escaped you the moment he added a third finger, thrusting the digits quickly; stirring you up inside. Your hand fell to his wrist, pretty acrylics digging into his limb, clawing up tattooed skin. Your legs shook as the moments of pleasure continued, eyes pinched close as you felt your orgasm approaching.

Your toes curled, stomach tightening as you grew closer and closer; pussy spasming around his fingers so intensely, he actually added effort to his thrusts.

“Su—sukuna, fuck—!” You whined against his thumb, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth, gagging the moment he pushed the digit farther into your throat. You were so close, squeezing him so harshly that it hurt.

And yet, you weren’t pushed over the edge. Because just when you felt like you would break, the man stopped; withdrawing his fingers before you could even think of finishing yourself off.

Your eyes flew open, glaring at the shit-eating grin plastered across his face. The moment he pulled his thumb from your mouth you were hissing;

“What’s your problem? I was so cl—“

“Did you think you could mouth off like that and I’d would reward you with an orgasm?” Sukuna questioned, head tilted, eyes sweeping your form. The man’s hand rose, fingers pressing into your cheeks and pushing; watching your messy lips pucker. “Fucking needy, looking at you whining just for my fingers.” Sukuna released your cheeks to instead grasp your waist, moving you over to sit on the couch.

The moment your ass met the cushion you felt the heat rise around you, watching in excitement at his hands tugging on the waistband of his pants. Thumbs hooking on the elastic, the vampire pushed them down, black boxers following. His dick escaped the confinements easily, resting tall and thick, beads of precum resting deliciously on the tip.

You bit your lip a little, breathing the moment you felt his strong hand grab the back of your head. “Gonna use that pretty mouth of yours for something useful, yeah?” Sukuna grinned, watching how easily your lips parted, tongue sticking out. His other hand grabbed his shaft, inching closer just to side his tip across your wet tongue. The moment you tried to wrap your lips around his dick, he was pulling you back by the hair— ignoring the whine that you released.

“Impatient brat.” He murmured, instructing you to lay your tongue out. You obeyed, groaning the moment he tapped his dick against the muscle, shallowing fucking your open mouth with just the tip. After a few moments of the teasing, Sukuna was flicking his hips forward; enjoying the way tears sprung to your eyes, hands rising to press against his hips. With no care for your well-being, the vampire began to thrust in your wet cavern, your soft hair spilling through the gaps of his fingers as he gripped it.

Your tongue dragged across his shaft with each thrust into your mouth, eyes closed as you breathed heavily through your nose. The sound of your saliva, gagging, and wet thrusts carried in the room; your hand falling between your legs to rub your clit, moaning around his cock. Your jaw began to ache from the relentless thrusts, the combined mess surely tainting the bottom half of your face— concerns that you could care less about.

Sukuna watched you carefully, gripping your hair, enjoying the way your cheeks would puff with each thrust. The moment he noticed your hand however, he was shoving his cock deeper, leaning to snatch your wrist. You went to whine, the noise coming out as nothing more then a wet, jumbled mess. He grinned above you, continuing to fuck your throat; “Gonna cry about it? Go ahead.” Sukuna snickered, gritting his teeth the moment he felt his orgasm getting close.

His head tilted back, breathing as pink strands rested against his forehead. Sukuna’s hips never stopped, heavy balls slapping against your chin as his grip on your hair began to ache. “Fuck.. such a good fucking groupie, letting me use your mouth like this.” Sukuna teased, feeling the vibration of your moans around his length. He looked back down, pacing increasing, strings of groans and swears escaping him.

The vampire pumped inside your wet mouth a few more times before he was pulling out, making a mess on your face. His come covered your lips, cheeks, and glasses; you quickly sucking up air greedily, tongue gliding across your lips to lick away his mess.

You breathed as his hand found your chin, raising your face to get a good look at you. Sukuna was truly satisfied with his work, grinning down at you. His thumb wiped some of the milky liquid left on your cheek, moving over to your mouth and watching you lick and suck his digit clean. “Mm.. that’s a good girl.” He praised, withdrawing his thumb and pulling your glasses off shortly after.

His hand slid to your throat the moment he pressed your lips together, rising you up a bit while you held onto his wrist. Sukuna’s tongue invaded your mouth once again, making it an even bigger mess. Soon he pulled away, staring down at you.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet and that attitude is no where to be seen. Maybe I shouldn’t..“ Sukuna was pulling away before you could even respond, reaching as if going to pull his pants up. “— looks like I already proved myself, right?” You quickly shook your head, reaching over to grab his wrists. The vampire laughed at this, coming closer to trap your form between him and the couch. “C’mon use your words, sweetheart. What exactly do you want?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring into his eyes. You were sure if you didn’t say anything in the next few seconds he would turn and exit the room, leaving you high and dry. You swallowed your pride, rising up higher to rest your hands onto his chest. “You. I need you so bad, Sukuna— please.” You gasped out, crumpling his shirt into your hands.

Sukuna listened to your pleas greedily, a permanent grin painted across his face. Just when you thought it didn’t work he was grabbing your shoulder, turning and pushing you to lay across the couch. Your heart beat fast against your chest, feeling the cushion dip as kneeled behind you. In one swift motion he was pulling your jeans and panties all the way down, revealing yourself to him.

The moment you tried to close your legs, his palm slammed against your ass; causing a cry to escape you, pressing your face into the cushion. “Don’t even try that. Wanted this so bad, you better fucking take it.” Sukuna hissed, grasping his length as he lined up with your fluttering entrance, carefully pushing in.

The stretch teetered between pleasurable and painful, rising onto your hands and gripping the cushions underneath you as you could do nothing but whine, body shaking. Sukuna sneered at your withering form, gripping your hips tightly. “‘M not even all the way in and you’re already losing yourself..” With a final thrust he was all the way in, resting deep inside your messy pussy, stretching you so pretty. You cried out the moment his fingers gripped your hair, pulling you into a deep arch whilst hovering over body, lips brushing your ear.

“Still think I ain’t no different then a human man?”

“Fu..fuck you.” You whimpered out, breathing heavily the moment he adjusted his hips.

Sukuna snickered softly, “You already are, princess.” With the continued grip on your hair he was pulling his hips back until only the tip was inside, slamming back in. The movement caused your body to lurch forward, gasping out and greedily sucking the air back up. You opened your mouth to speak, shutting up the moment another thrust racked through your body.

And another.. and another.. and another—

His pace was relenting from the start, fucking you so harshly your body bumped against the arm rest of the couch; nails digging into the cushions as shameless moans escaped you. Each time you attempted to pull away, to run— he was grabbing you back, slapping your thighs, ass, anything he could reach. All while speaking to you in that mocking tone, ridiculing you.

“Had so much to say yet you’re running..”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, the thought melting away as his thrusts ruined you. His cock dragged against your walls, fucking each and every thought out of your mind; replacing them with him. Your eyes were pinched close, drawls of his name and moans escaping your swollen lips. “Su—sukuna, fuck..!” You cried out, feeling yourself get close.

Sukuna’s hands kept a tight grip on your hips, bottom lip caught between his sharp fangs the moment you began to fuck back against him. Your ass shook with each bounce, the man zoned in on the erotic display. Fuck, you felt so good, way too good. The man sucked his teeth, hand falling to your ass cheek and slapping one, thrusting harder than before. “Greedy fucking pussy, clenching me so damn tight..” He dragged, a groan rumbling in his chest.

Tears sprung to your eyes, head going slack as a loud cry escaped you, creaming all over his length. The mess trickled down to his balls and the couch, soaking the cushion. Your tired body went slack against the furniture, feeling his thrusts slow, but never stop. A sudden tight grip on your hair had your reeling, whining as he pulled you back.

“I’m not fucking done with you.”

The vampire wasted no time and flipping you onto your back, pulling you down by your thighs and pushing them up to sink deeper inside you. Your hands clung to his wrists, crying out at the slight burn the stretch left you. You were given no time to think, the man resuming his fearsome thrusts at a completely different angle, ramming agonist a spot inside you that caused you to completely lose your mind.

Your hands went slack, lips agape as babbles and moans escaped your raw throat. Your eyes were meeting the back of your skull, makeup a mess with wet dark streaks running down your chubby brown cheeks. Sukuna enjoyed the sight completely, eyes flicking between your face and the way his cock slid inside your pretty pussy, the white foamy mess coating his length.

He leaned over your body, legs now held up by his shoulders as he continued to fuck you. “What a mess you are.” The man hissed, hand reaching to grab your chin. “Can’t even think straight can you? I’m fucking you too dumb huh?” He mocked, your sweet moans music to his ears.

Your hands rose to his back, gripping his shirt for leverage as you came again, painting his lower body with your mess. Sukuna laughed softly at this, still fucking you despite just orgasming. “Claimed you weren’t a fang-banger yet here you are, coming all over my dick. Such a liar, (Y/N).”

Your whines didn’t go unnoticed, the man’s hand falling to your waist and lifting you up a bit, drilling into you. His cock pushed against your cervix, the pain melting with each thrust inside. You barely even registered his fangs pressing against your skin until they entered your collarbone, a strangled whine escaped you.

The man sucked the crimson droplets that released from the wound, blunt fingernails digging into your skin; Sukuna slowly getting drunk off your taste. When he had his fill he was pulling away, licking up the residue and sealing the wound. His other hand grabbed the back of your neck, lifting your head from the couch to lock lips; the metallic taste of your blood causing you to groan— all while continuing to jackhammer into you.

The vampire was right, he was fucking the attitude out of you. You so pliable, gripping onto him as if he was a lifeline and you were in the open sea. Your legs were trembling, pussy clenching and clenching, as he swallowed the sweetest moans with his lips tainted with your blood. A fucking mess you were.

His mess, obviously.

A different type of clench entered your stomach, one that caused your eyes to fly open. You pulled back from the kiss to cry out, gripping him tightly. “Wa—wait, Sukuna— hah…— please slow down!” You somehow managed out, hazy eyes staring up at the clear distaste resting on his features.

He didn’t listen, slamming into you roughly, swatting the hand away that went to press against his hips. Sukuna tutted at the whine that escaped you, drilling you deeper and deeper into the furniture. “Make another mess, ruin this fucking couch.” He hissed, feeling his own end growing close.

You tried to hold it back, back arching from the cushions as black filled streaks continued to glide down your cheeks. Soon enough you could no longer contain yourself, the band snapping inside you as you screeched in pleasure; drenching the cushions underneath you, making a complete mess of the both of you.

Sukuna grinned at this, far too caught up in his own pleasure to release a snarky comment. Instead his face fell to your neck, thrusts becoming uncoordinated before he shoved himself deep, flooding you with his come.

The sound of your pants entered the space, your hands continuing to hold onto Sukuna. Your head fell back against the couch, eyes pinched closed and focused on regaining your breath.

Moments passed before the vampire rose, pulling his hips back, shushing the sensitive whine that escaped you. Once no longer inside, Sukuna’s hands dragged down to spread you more, watching pearly white beads trickle from your opening and down to your taint. The man smirked just a tad, eyes carrying back to your tired face.

“Looks like you’re a fang-banger now.” Sukuna spoke, watching you attempt at a frustrated face which melted away the moment his thumb slid across your slit.

“Fuck, Sukuna.. I’m too sensitive right now.” You whimpered, shying away from his touch. You gasped as he gripped your thighs however, dragging you farther down the couch.

Sukuna leaned over your body, resting on a forearm placed above your head. “You have seven minutes sweetheart.”

You rose an eyebrow at his words, adjusting yourself, “For what?”

The vampire grinned, curling a piece of hair around his finger. “If you thought I was gonna stop there, I fucked you far too dumb. I’m getting rid of that attitude permanently, remember?”

Your eyes widened, excitement and fear bubbling inside you. The man leaned down, stealing your lips in a deep kiss.

You were thankful you thought to send a text message to your best friend to leave when she wanted, given you didn’t leave the room until the bar closed.

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

[sxffrxn]

When love strikes OP81

An Oscar Piastri x reader, enemies to lovers story

Part One Part Two

Summary: Oscar Piastri and Y/N L/N have a long-lasting feud, nobody knows why. Do they themselves know why?

Warnings: swearing, Oscar and Y/N literally act like children, grammar mistakes, messy

Word Count: 1.4k

~~

Arriving back at home was like a blessing from the Gods. As soon as Y/N stepped foot in her apartment, her coat was thrown off as she leaped onto her bed, luggage forgotten. That night, she had the best sleep she had in a very long time, despite still being in her travelling clothes.

When she woke up and checked her phone she found her instagram was blowing up. Panic coursed itself through her body. Was she cancelled online? Has someone made up some bullshit to spread about her?

But, alas, it was her interview. It had gone viral. Some people were speculating about Oscar and Y/N’s relationship, and some had compiled an entire 30 minute video of the pair being downright unpleasant to each other. Although Y/N did in fact watch the whole video - in 3x speed, she wasn’t watching a 30 minute long video - she has to admit some of these were a stretch, I mean there was one scene where they simply walked past each other, opposite sides of the walkway may I add.

Both Lamborghini and Mclaren’s PR teams were going to have a field day with this one.

About an hour later, Y/N got a call from her assistant, Gemma,

“What have you done Y/N, the internet is in shambles!” she started.

“No, Hi how are you? Are you well rested? Why yes I am thank you for asking.” Y/N replied.

“Y/N I don’t think you understand the severity of this. We have had Mclaren on the phone all morning trying to sort this mess out.”

“Gem, I replied the way I was supposed to, I can’t think of another way I could have handled that without it turning into a brawl!” Y/N answered in a less polite tone than she should have used.

“Y/N” she started, “I know you handled it the best way you could. I’m sorry this is just so stressful. I don't know how to say this..”

“Say what? Surely it's not that bad. I mean they’re not kicking me off the team are they? I’ve only done one race an-“ she was cut off by Gemma again.

“They want you to act as though you are civil. Friends even. And I’m not talking, not sending glares at the other. I mean they want you to do all sorts of things with him.” Y/N’s heart dropped, she could not do this. Did this tiny altercation have to resort to this? No. But was Y/N a petty bitch? Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Gem, I’m not pretending to date him or anything like that, I’ve read a lot of books with that in and I hate it.”

“No, Y/N, you do not have to pretend to date Oscar Piastri,” she let out a sigh of relief, “You will, however, have to go to many events with him to show you guys are really just friends off track and rivals on.”

“Ughhhhh. Do I have to? Like what’s the significance of this?” Y/N tried to bargain.

“The significance is,” Gemma started, “not fucking up the internet more than you have - and yes, again, I know it’s not your fault for the interviewer’s question but we need to uphold the reputation of this team. Unfortunately women are always the problem in the media’s eyes.”

Y/N sighed rolling around on her bed and taking a big sip of water,

“Fine, but don’t expect me to apologise to anyone for anything. I hardly did anything wrong!” Maybe the last part was a little fib but Y/N stood her ground.

—

It was media day for the Saudi Arabian grand prix. Y/N sat in her hotel room completing a round of sudoku on her phone - her newest favourite past-time. She was waiting for a knock at her door from Gemma to explain the plan of action for today. Today commenced the ‘sort shit out with Oscar bloody Piastri’ plan, she was given minute details about how they would be miraculously saving each of their reputations. I mean, Y/N could hardly see the problem with rivalry on track, I mean look at Pierre Gasly and Esteban Ocon, they had some issues - Y/N thinks so anyway - and nobody batted an eye, well I guess they weren’t as hostile with each other as Piastri and Y/N are.

A knock resounded through Y/N hotel room.

“Coming!” she went to the door and was met with the smiley face of Gemma,

“Gem you’re,” she checked her watch, “20 minutes early!”

“Yet you are all ready, what happened to ‘Little Miss constantly 10 minutes late’?” Gemma responded.

“Shitting bricks Gem.” Y/N patted Gemma on the back as she stepped out of her room and locked the door, “Let’s get this over and done with, yeah?”

Gemma filled Y/N in on the plan for the start of the day, Y/N would meet Oscar in the foyer of the hotel, have a few laughs and then head to the paddock, they would re-evaluate from there.

Y/N could feel herself gagging as she stepped into the main entrance, yes she was being very dramatic, but this was more stressful than telling her mum she had forgotten to take the chicken out of the freezer to defrost when specifically asked to. Oscar turned and scowled as Y/N walked up to him, this was going to be way harder than he thought. Gemma gave Y/N a firm pat on the back to usher her towards the aussie. They had fake paparazzi stationed just outside the hotel to get the best angles of their positive encounter. When Y/N felt a hand on her back, it was like a switch had been flicked and she grinned at Oscar as though they were best friends, she really channelled the 9 in her drama GCSE for this one moment.

She waved at Oscar as she got closer and he got the memo to sort himself out and act. They began walking out the door and to the shared car they would be taking (Y/N screamed into her hands and nearly punched a hole in the lift door when she found out they'd be car sharing), Oscar opened the door for Y/N to climb into the back seat before he got in. Both Oscar and Y/N had practically begged Gemma to be the peacekeeper and sit between them, but she claimed that she ‘needed to sit in the front because she gets motion sickness’ Y/N called out her shit and said that they had spent millions of car rides together in the back.

It was hard to not grab Oscar by the throat and throttle him into next week but Y/N kept her composure - and kept her hands to herself. It was almost peaceful at first, if you ignore the massive amounts of tension between the two, but that all soon changed as soon as Oscar opened his mouth,

“Do you know how long the car ride is?” he asked, directed to literally anyone in the car who could give him an answer.

“Longer than your F1 debut race” Y/N muttered under her breath, she did mean for him to hear it as she thought it was a pretty good joke. Turns out, it's probably not best to joke about race finishes - in this case, race not finishes - with someone who despises you.

“What the fuck, that’s not funny” he said turning to her.

Y/N stayed staring at her phone but let out a little giggle at his response. Oscar huffed and practically threw himself back into his seat.

“It’s about a 45 minute drive, Oscar” The driver, Kim (also Oscar’s performance coach) answered for him.

‘45 minutes with this bellend’ Y/N said in her mind before rolling her eyes and rotating her phone to watch a show on Netflix.

Oscar was in the same boat ‘No fucking way am I spending 45 minutes with her’ he thought to himself.

A loud ding sound echoed through the back of the car,

“Are you playing sudoku? What are you a fucking child?” Oscar commented. Y/N just scowled at him and stuck her tongue out. Oscar gave her a pointed look, then she realised, huffed, and pushed herself further into her seat.

This was going to be one hell of a car ride.

A/N: Hey guys sorry for the late update, I didn’t drop off the face of the earth. I’ve been so stressed out with schoolwork recently so updates will be scarce 😬 Thank you guys for all the support on the first part I literally love you all!!! Still working out the ropes to tumblr but i promise I will get there in the end.

Taglist: @chiliwhore (comment or lmk to be added i guess!!)

[lookslikethatsallthetimewehave]

In your opinion, what's the darkest thing in Poptropica?

Oh... wow. You know, some people might be surprised at some of the dark stuff that's happened/implied throughout the franchise. And from such an innocent looking world too :)

I guess I'll make a list of some stuff that stands out to me:

24 Carrot Island 

The 4 children were kidnapped and brainwashed by Dr. Hare probably for months.

Astro-Knights Island 

Mordred almost died in a crash, and had to replace half of his body with robotics. 

Mordred kidnapped the princess because he wanted to marry her. And her parents most likely thought they were never going to see her again, since they had no way of going after her.

Counterfeit Island 

It's implied that Black Widow was gonna torture the player in order to get answers. 

Reality TV Island/Wild Safari Island 

Villains allowed to be on reality tv… and being treated as celebrities... WHAT.

Skullduggery Island 

Captain Crawfish probably killed a lot of people. Cause… pirate.

Steamworks Island 

The entire backstory of this island: the people were doing experiments on plants, when the plants mutated and tried to kill them. The only way they could survive is by freezing themselves.

Captain Ziggs sacrificed himself to hold off the Plant Monsters. Mayor Crumb must be feeling pretty depressed now that she's free and forced to live without him.

Red Dragon Island  

The Shogun being a pretty terrifying tyrant. 

Shrink Ray Island  

POV: you're an elementary school student and your teacher's star pupil. You trust him, because he's a nice teacher. And then he goes crazy and kidnaps you.

Mr. Silva threatens to shrink CJ and the player to the point where they can't be seen by anyone, which is kinda dark honestly. 

Blimp Adventure 

Dr. Cumulo Nimbus sets fire to the rain to all the islands. 

Game Show Island  

Robots take over and enslave humanity. 

Ghost Story Island  

A really depressing murder mystery/ weird love triangle story that involves several character's deaths.

S.O.S Island  

The ship sinks and everyone inside almost dies. Also a child.

Vampire's Curse Island  

Count Bram outlives his wife, and goes crazy. And he kidnaps a child due to insanity. 

Cactus von Garlic has killed many vampires. But not all vampires in Poptropica are evil (if Haunted House is any indication). 

Twisted Thicket Island  

The forest creatures turning into stone. I'm not 100% sure if they're still alive in there or not...

Poptropolis Games Island

The island sinks back into the ocean, with people still on it. Some of the ancient islanders are waterlogged (but still alive, for some reason).

Lunar Colony Island (Book)

The PASE workers are oddly sociopathic to Glen John's situation, only caring about Glen helping them. Glen is 13 btw.

Super Villain Island  

Zeus almost winning. He blew up the world for no reason. Also, there's something really scary about the way he blew up his own island.

Zomberry Island  

Zombie apocalypse. 

Virus Hunter Island  

A pandemic almost happened. 

Monster Carnival Island 

Ringmaster Raven's backstory: Pretty messed up. 

Edgar is an orphan who ran away and joined the carnival. He put a lot of trust in the Ringmaster and seemed pretty happy… and then the Ringmaster hypnotizes him and uses him for his scheme. Pretty messed up. 

Survival Island 

Myron Van Buren. Enough said.

Mission Atlantis Island 

The alien was trapped underwater for years and died.

PoptropiCon Island  

Omegon taking over the convention center, and turning the people into Hench-Bots.

Arabian Nights Island 

Scheherazade attempted to steal the player's soul… what the heck.

Graphic Novels

The kids almost died… several times. (A Saber tooth tiger and polar bear almost maul them, they almost fall to their deaths, they almost freeze to death, they are almost stabbed to death by Lieutenant Rogers, they almost got erased from history on the Ancient Egypt Island, they almost burned alive in a volcano eruption, etc)

The ancient Egyptians are erased from one timeline, and a bunch of people on earth died... and it's unknown if they were brought back, or what.

When Spencer Albright is murdered, Jonas is so overcome with grief that he completely loses it and becomes murderous like Octavian. Jonas is 18-20 btw.

The backstories for the main characters (Octavian is forced to let Paulla die, Mya's mom abruptly dies and she goes through depression, Oliver’s dad walks out on the family).

Octavian's fate at the end is this: he accidentally jumped through the portal before the universe he wanted to go to fully formed. Because of this, he jumped into the in-between point of universes, and was split into an infinite amount of versions of himself. Sounds complicated, but is incredibly messed up.

Mya was seriously considering leaving her own timeline, even though she would be leaving her family and friends behind. Whether or not she knew this is unknown, but if she did... kinda messed up.

And… that's it. No more dark things that stick out to me after that. Probably because after this, they fired the writer who was responsible for most of the dark undertones in the franchise. OOPS!!! >:(

I think the darkest stuff comes from Monster Carnival, Survival, and the graphic novels.