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skzdarlings · 5 months ago

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the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted. “My husband isn’t coming for me.”

The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand. You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.

You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer. The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone.

He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return.

Hyunjin was quiet on the call. Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation. When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster.

Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business. He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family. Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle.

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you. When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties.

The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld. The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved. Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.

In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.

You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call. Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance. He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.

You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call. You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned. At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster. You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport.

Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes. They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown.

Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst.

“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said. He ended the call seconds later.

“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says. He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife. It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat. “Or else.”

“He won’t, though!” you exclaim. “You’re wasting your time!”

They are not listening. They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.

You huff and settle back in your bonds.

It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth. Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you. He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental. There is a professional distance between you. His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business.

You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity. He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies. He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind.

Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you. You often catch him staring. He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up. His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions. You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter. He seems more than content to listen. He remembers everything too.

You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else. He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away. He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon. He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card. It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship. You missed his dark eyes.

Your family also had expectations. There would be consequences if the marriage fell through. You would be blamed, not him. Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him.

He politely rejected you at every turn.

Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job. It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse. You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom. You could hear him cursing above the running water.

You only meant to peek. The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over.

Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder. There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars.

That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty. His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain. Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head.

He froze at the sound of your gasp. His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair. They captured yours.

You held your breath.

Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face. He looked in the mirror and sighed.

“You can come in,” he said. “This is your home too.”

You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through. Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder. You could see the wound was a thin stripe. It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.

In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering. You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start. You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut.

He flinched when the stinging cream made contact. You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror. You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever.

“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection. “You – you have people to protect you.” You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face.

“I do,” he said. “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.”

This did not surprise you to hear. It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people. It is a fact known to few. It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him. He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private.

You have never known another man like him. Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you.

Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others. If something happened to him, what would become of you? Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter? This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin. This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless.

Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder.

“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke. “Please make sure you always come home, okay?”

He did not answer at first. When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire.

“Hyunjin?” you said softly.

“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization.

“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine. It made him stand a little straighter. “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked.

He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger. He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table.

“You’re a smart woman,” he said. “I know that. And I know that you’re – good.”

Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue. You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself. He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted.

“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked.

Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady. You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting.

Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before. You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity. Of him, of all that he was, all that he did. His character, his hidden depths.

Your husband.

It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive.

You desperately wondered what was on his mind. The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response. Was he feeling the same tension? Were his thoughts the same realization?

My wife.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so. It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss.

He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face.

“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time.

You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire. It was so different to that kiss. You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that. You never knew what you were missing.

Your quiet husband and his multitudes. All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin. His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever.

He walked you backwards. With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back. He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.

He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself. Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath.

He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain. He looked at you like he already loved you. He looked at you and saw the reciprocation. You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled.

He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place. His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body. You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now. It is why it became your favourite.

He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body. It broke through that last layer of ice. He surrendered with a choked breath.

He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket. Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt. You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard. You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires. No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.

Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real. His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way. He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before.

Recollection makes you crave another kiss. You think you will always be starving for more.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest.

He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed. He kissed you again, long and slow. It was all more sensual than desperate.

His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.” He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat. “Please, my wife.” He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it. “My wife,” he repeated.

“My husband.” The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.

It was all the confirmation he needed. Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness. He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.

He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way. His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness. Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you.

He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers. It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth. He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth. He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you.

He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time. He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you. It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before. You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.

He responded in kind. His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together. You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars. Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses.

His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless. He always wanted more.

You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled. However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever. He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business. You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations.

When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed. There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance. The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing. But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.

He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before. But while his silence was significant, so was his glance. Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud.

You granted him some distance for a time. When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap.

One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side. You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants. His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up.

He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything.

It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case. His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.

You said nothing. You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair. He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you.

You ran your fingers through his hair. When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek.

There were some wipes on his desk. You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up. His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist. He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself.

“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face. Still impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” he replied.

His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe. Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him. This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees.

He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly. You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten.

He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face. He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.

You took your hand back and unknotted your robe. The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body. You were completedly naked underneath.

It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.

“You—” he began. It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh. You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants. It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.

“Please,” you said.

He would never deny you anything. Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture. When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour. You shared passions, and now you shared this.

He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat. His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise. He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth.

You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment. He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink.

He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds. That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one. He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss.

His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed. The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”

“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment.

He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame. When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it. His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up.

“What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat. The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower.

“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over. He licked and kissed back up to your mouth. “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.”

As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you. His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him. It had been a little while, and this angle was different.

And Hyunjin is not small. Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception. This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like he was a life preserver in a storm. The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise.

Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you. He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat.

You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you. You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.

“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.

Fortunately, he was and is a smart man. He understood. He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure. His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before. You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms.

He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs. It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered.

He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again. He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.

Then you were on your back, the night far from over.

That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more. Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you. You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world. You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him.

You have been out of his arms for too long. Your visit to your family grew tedious before long. Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return.

Now it seems you may never see it again. You may never see him again.

No.

Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now. You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue. You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business. You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision. You must eliminate the need for choice.

It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies. When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings. There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them.

It is true, you do not like violence.

That does not mean you do not understand it.

You leave the two men unconscious in their basement. Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown. You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway.

You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle. You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants.

Then Hyunjin emerges. You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it. If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now. There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely.

Then he stumbles, recognizing you. You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you.

He looks nowhere but your eyes.

“Hyunjin?” you finally say.

“I—” He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress. He shakes his head. Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”

“Ah,” you say. You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply. You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business. The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.

In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry. You’re late.”

That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth. He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.

“I can see that,” he says.

He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand. His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.

You turn to watch them go. In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm. He is fast, effectively disarming you. He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.

It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.

Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him. You throw your arms around him. The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain.

You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek. He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe.

“I’m all right now,” you say. “Sorry I beat you to the punch. I – I wasn’t sure if—”

His brow crinkles. That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger. He tips your head so he can look at your face. He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find. He is enchanted every time.

“You’re mine,” he says. “And I take care of what belongs to me.”

You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space. He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless.

“Do not ever doubt that,” he says. His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary. It makes you tingle from head to toe. “Do I need to remind you?”

You never actually answer. You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home.

You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold. He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.

He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place. Now, he is not slow or subtle. He is a force of nature. He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call.

“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body. “I’m your husband. There is nothing I should be holding back.”

“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair. You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers. “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath. “Do whatever you want.”

He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down. He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites. You shiver at every suggestion.

And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed. He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass.

“You’re my wife,” he says. The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress. It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce. “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.

This time a yelp escapes your lips. You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress. He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.

You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers. You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next. You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together.

“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again. “Who am I?”

“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down. “My husband,” you say again.

“And you are—”

“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you. With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold.

“Husband,” you say, hips bucking. His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.

“Yes?” he says.

You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead. You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place. Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows.

“I make you feel good,” he says. “I take care of you. You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”

You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently. Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up.

“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess. “Just for me,” he says in that whisper. “Just for your husband.”

“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you.

Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up. He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed. You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.

He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap. He forgets to remove his necklace. All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you. You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you.

He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions. When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase. When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever. When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms.

He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart. Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow. Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.

You let yourself fall into it, fall into him. You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels.

Before it ends, you change position. He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely. He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down. Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name. His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body. Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again. He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn.

“Hyunjin,” you say. “My husband, oh—”

He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately. Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you.

“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin.

He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn. His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth. There is no more ice, no more cold concrete.

“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh.

He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly. It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.

He looks at you like his favourite work of art.

“You were the one who rescued you,” he says. “Just like you rescued me.”

You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him. It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back.

You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x you #hyunjin x you #skz x you #valentinesdaystories

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astrow1zar6 · 4 months ago

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Astro Observations- 35

Libra Venus’s are usually so artistically gifted but rarely ever believe in their talents. They’re usually really good at thinks like interior design, party planning/decorating, makeup ect. I notice most never believe they’re that good but the stuff they create is so aesthetically pleasing. If they get confident enough they have the ability to run a really successful business just off their creative

Venus in Leo’s also have amazing artistic talent but the only difference is they have a lot more confidence showcasing their art compared to Libra Venus who’s more indecisive about if their work should be displayed. Most Leo Venus’s I meet are amazing drawers and painters and usually make money from their creativity easy. Also this placement is very ambitious, most I see are well educated and usually make a good amount of money ( probably because of their love for luxury they tend to strive higher than most).

Mercury in the 12th house people are always complaining on how no one understands them but also refuses to talk about themselves.

Scorpio moons I feel like are way more sensitive than cancer and Pisces moons. They just conceal it better.

Capricorn moon are the worst people to vent to imo. It’s like emotions are completely foreign to you them you’ll be crying about ur feeling and they’ll just stare at you like “•—•” Aquarius moons can be like that too but I feel like they’re more open to listening to your feelings while cap moons choose to avoid them completely

On the flip side cancer moons I feel like are the best to vent too. I feel like talking to them is such a no judge zone they’ll just listen to you and support you. They’re natural made therapists!

I notice a lot of Virgo suns are obsessed with being popular or seen as “cool”. It’s probably due to their perfectionist tendencies. Can act a little fake to get people to admire them (ESPECIALLY with Libra placements).

Cancer suns with Gemini placements can be big copy cats

Aquarius moons really love music. They have the most unhinged playlists though😂

Usually cancer Venus’s get married and start a family very young. They mature fast in a romantic sense.

Pisces Venus’s attract so many admirers (it’s an exhalted placement) but because of this they can never make up their mind on who to settle down with. No one talks about how bad these people’s commitment issues are especially the men. They can be more indecisive than libra Venus’s.

Virgo moons stop giving advice no one asks for. Lecturing people about their flaws 24/7 will not help fix them

Venus in retrograde individuals tend to lack a lot of social etiquette. People usually perceive these people as rude or disrespectful.

People with Capricorn and Aquarius in their chart are just tooo cool. Everything they do they make look really cool even if they’re picking their nose. They give off a confidence vibe like they just know what they’re doing which causes a lot of people to follow them or try to impress them. Giving CEO vibes.

Aqua Venus’s are really attractive when they act nonchalant and don’t care. The more the look like they don’t care they draw mad ppl in.

Taurus moons are called boring a lot by their peers

Saturn in 5th & 7th house 🤝 taking things way too seriously when it should be fun

#astro observations #astrologist #astrology #astro community #astro notes #astroblr

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cryinggirlnamedhelen · 2 months ago

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some Chrollo things i found/realized on my rewatch + reread of hxh

- he has REALLY bad posture. in the PT base during yorknew, when Chrollo is reading a book, he is literally hunched over and his back is at like a 45 degree angle🥺

- he’s very smug and cocky. after his fight against Zeno and Silva, he asks with a smirk to Zeno “if we were in a fight, who would win, you or me?” and chuckles knowingly when Zeno replies. during Chrollo vs Hisoka, Chrollo says that he is “100% sure that i am going to win”

- his personality switches depending on who he’s with. with the troupe, he’s logical and stoic—never losing his temper. when he’s with Hisoka, he’s much more relaxed and friendly + smiles much more often. when he’s with someone older, he’s respectful.

- he doesn’t seem to mind celebrations/parties. he’s seen drinking with the troupe in a manga panel after the auction.

- he seems very self aware of his handsome appearance, as he lured Neon in + most of the abilities in his book are from women.

- in terms of physical strength, Chrollo is 7th in the Troupe —above Bonolenov, Nobunaga, Shalnark, Pakunoda, Shizuku, and Kortopi, making him MUCH MUCH MUCH stronger than even superhumans such as Gon and Killua. (I love this fact for some reason)

- he had many similarities to Gon and Kurapika as a kid. (read Ch. 395-397, which is the Troupe backstory. it has a lot of cute baby Troupe member scenes🥺)

- he has a habit of covering his mouth with his hand whenever he is thinking deeply about something or connecting the lines.

- he knows a shocking amount about the Kakin Empire (in the manga), even more so than some of the Princes of the Kakin Empire.

- he seems to have a habit of smirking whenever something is going according to plan or when something went according to plan. he also just seems to enjoy smirking in general.

- his favorite color seems to be purple due to much of his outfits being some sort of variation of purple.

- in official arts + mobage cards, he seems to have dark circles under his eyes. in the yorknew city arc, he is also the only troupe member who didn’t sleep during the entire arc, meaning that he seems to have some sort of insomnia.

- in mobage cards, Chrollo seems to have a habit of fidgeting with his clothes. (pulling off his tie during the Christmas mobage card, playing with his hat, etc,.)

- he is very athletic, considering how at the end of yorknew city when he was left nen-less on those plateaus, he managed to climb down and find shelter all by himself.

- he is also very rich, since on average, every Zoldyck assassination costs around 1 billion—Chrollo managed to afford to assassinate the 10 Dons, meaning 10 billion Jenny.

- Chrollo doesn’t seem to care whenever someone is being disrespectful towards him or the troupe.

- Chrollo seems to have a particular fondness for suits, as he is often seen wearing a suit in official arts

- Chrollo often wears clothing that covers much of his body

- Chrollo seems to have the traditional values of a chivalrous man, meaning that he respects women quite a lot and makes sures to keep them safe. Chrollo made sure to catch Neon in the most respectful way when she “fell” (he literally could have just grabbed her by the arm and it would have been fine), he made sure to keep Pakunoda + Machi + Shizuku in the same team during yorknew (there were no men in their team), and during the Chrollo vs Hisoka battle, none of the female spectators (or even the commentator) were harmed.

———

AUGHHHHHH CHROLLO ILYSM PLEASE LIVE UNTIL THE END OF THE SERIES😭🥺😫❤️CHROLLOOOO UR MY BBY AND ILYSMMMMM😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️😫😫😫💕💕💕

#hunter x hunter #hxh #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #hxh hcs #hxh x reader #chrollo hcs #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucifer x reader #yandere chrollo #chrollo smut #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x reader #chrollo x you

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mochamadeleines · 4 months ago

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Sweethearts and Sweet Dreams <3

“Nothin’?”

“Mhm.”

“Whats behind your back then?”

You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.” (6.4k words)

tags!! - 18+ modern au! Husband! Joel Miller, Wife! Reader, you guys are happy and in love!, mutual obsession if u squint, lots of exposition im so freaking sorry, pervert Joel if u squint, praise kink joel if you squint, dumbification if you squint, written for those with daddy issues lowkeeyyyyy, written with game joel in mind but could be hbo joel no problem!, lowk i combined the two in my mind, mentions of shy old man joel, housewife! reader (by choice), unspecified age gap but reader is like. thirty? and joels Like...55??, talk about joel taking medication for his anxiety, p in v sex, dirty talk, public sex, outdoor sex, joel has a kink for dresses because i said so? service top joel if you squint, pet names, a pinch of jealousy and possessiveness for fun, playful banter, mentions of maria and tommy and their baby with a made up name Lol, mentions of ellie and sarah (rip), mentions of readers past abusive relationships, talk about joel struggling with substance abuse/addiction and being hospitalized.....Im sure u can theorize why </3, lots of lore ill get into in another fic MAYBE *smirks*, flip flop in perspective, sometimes showing what joel is thinking or what reader is thinking blah blah

authors notes!! - hi there!!! im mocha and this is my first joel fic ever + my first fic posted to tumblr!! im really nervous cuz i havent written anything in months and ive never written joel before so please let me know if you like it!! id love to write more of this au for u guys if theres a demand for it...Thank u for reading!! also barely proof read im ngl. ive been staring at this fic all day im sick of itttt. p.s i dont usually write smut i also kinda do idfk Is this bad or am i tweaking

You step out of the house, morning sun soaking into the roots of your hair and the driveway beneath your feet. Theres a package youve been waiting for.

You cant contain your grin as you wiggle it out of the hot prison that is your mailbox.

“What the hell are you doin’ out there barefoot?” Joel chastises you from the front door, leaning his elbow on the frame. Joel, your lovely husband of two years. Been together for five. And because of how hard he works, you have the privilege of being a stay at home wife. Some people think that sort of life is stifling, but youve never felt so free. No more jobs you hate, no more financial struggles. Just you, Joel, and your cat, Cement. He likes to pretend it isnt a totally hilarious name for a pet.

You were his first relationship in almost a decade, so it was a lot of work helping him unpack his anxieties about dating, and a lot of work for you to feel safe and unafraid. Honestly? Youve been mistreated by enough men to land you in the psychward.

But Joel never yells at you, he never breaks things when hes angry or threatens to hurt you. He might raise his voice every now and again, but its never because of something you did. Sometimes the stress of life is just too much.

He works hard, he loves his daughter- daughters- and he would do anything to keep you happy. Whatever you say goes, he says. Even now, you hardly argue. Of course you have disagreements, or off days thatd lead to one of you being especially moody, but the both of you do your best to communicate.

Behind that rough exterior, is someone who just wants to be needed.

You first met Joel at a youth center you volunteered at, he taught guitar, you taught arts and crafts. Joel says it was your smile and sense of humor that charmed him. It was his singing and southern accent for you.

Your favorite thing about Joel is how soft he gets around you. He says its because you make it easy to be soft.

Joel was a shy lover at first. He would get nervous just kissing you, or holding your hand. While most people become intimate very early on in their relationship, you and Joel didnt do anything sexual for the first five months of you dated. Sure, you almost did, plenty of times, but he would get so overwhelmed and cut things short. You broke two of your vibrators during this era of your relationship. Embarassing.

You remember your first time very vividly. Joel had worked back to back doubles trying to meet a deadline, and on the final day, after having barely spoken to you for almost a week, you had shown up to his house, unannounced. You were wringing water out of your jacket when he swung the door open.

“How-” Joel blinks a few times, stepping forward to examine the rainfall. “How long you been out here?”

“Not that long,” You lie and pick up the container you brought off the porch chair. Part of you had a hard time mustering up the courage to even knock on the door. Droplets of water cascade down your chin. “Hi, sorry. I know youre tired.”

He shakes his head, voice soft and warm. “S’fine. Now c’mon, youre gonna get sick.”

Youre seated at the little dining table next to the kitchen now, trying to let the sound of the rainfall ease your nerves.

Joel was quick to grab you a towel, and does the honors of drying your face and hair with it. “Why didnt you jus’ call me? Woulda gotten out of the shower faster if i knew you were gettin’ soaked out there like this.”

“I dunno, sorry.”

“An’ whatd i tell you about apologizin’ all the time?”

“Sor- Uh. Right. Okay.” You tighten your jaw. No more.

Joel moves behind you, now squeezing water out the ends of your hair. “Whas’ that?”

“Oh!-” You peel back the lid, showing it to him. “Old fashion cake donuts are your favorite right? I remember you saying you liked eating them with your coffee in the mornings so…I made these. Youve been working a lot lately and I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Joel gingerly grasps the container from your hands, looking into it. Theyre a warm golden brown, outside evenly fried, and the sweet scent of them hits his nose right away.

“I was just gonna leave them on the doorstep and call you to tell you they were there, but I wanted to see you.”

His adam's apple bobs as he swallows the dryness in his throat. Youre too good for him.

“Thank you very much.” He presses a kiss to your damp hair. “Now, lets get you into some dry clothes.”

Joel gives you a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers to keep you modest while your clothes wash and dry.

You wait patiently on his bed for the hot chocolate he promised you before you showered. Theres nothing to watch on the tv, so you just turn it off and reach for the lamp on his nightstand instead.

He comes in quietly, and sets the mug down beside the lamp. You finally come into focus, clear as day even under the low lighting.

“You uh.. You look nice.”

You blink. “I look nice?”

“In my shirt.”

That gets a smile out of you.

Joel tips his head towards the mug. “S’hot so, give it a few minutes. Dont want you burnin’ your mouth.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Hes sat beside you now and the two of you sit in silence for a while. Its not awkward, just the kind of silence where both of you want to say something but just.. Cant.

Joel unravels first. “Missed you, y’know. Just been tired.”

“I know.” Your voice wobbles, and Joels jaw tightens like hearing you sound so sad stings him. “I missed you, too.”

He slides his hand over yours, giving it a squeeze. Its okay.

“Hey Joel...Can I stay the night?”

“Sure. Id really like that.”

While you drink your hot chocolate, you and Joel catch up. You both talk about work, and about your new found interest in baking. Joel teases you about your lack of cooking skills, you do the same. Youre both useless.

When its time to climb into bed, neither of you can actually fall asleep. Joel rolls onto his side, away from you and the window. You follow, curling up like a little cat against his back. The sensation is nice for the both of you.

You speak up after a little while.

“Joel?”

“Mm.”

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

He scoffs, voice thick with exhaustion. “Like I'd force you to leave after you brought me such a nice present.”

You let out a little giggle, “So if i didnt, youd kick me out?”

“Id think ‘bout it.”

You gasp, gently shoving at his back. “Thats mean…!”

“S’really not.”

“Oh yeah? And what if I poisoned them?.”

“Then itd jus' be a regular day of your cookin’ then.” Joel reminds you, lighthearted. Too many times where you left the shells in your eggs or burnt toast or left the bacon on the pan for too long.

“You cant get mad at me for my dark past when you made a perfectly good sirloin taste like horse leather.”

“Ugh. Dont remind me. That was like putting a one-hundred dollar bill into a paper shredder. How do either of us stay alive again?”

“Uh. Digiorno?”

“Digiorno.”

After a few moments, Joels rolling over again, and hes guiding your head to settle against his chest. Your arms wrap around him, and his arms around you.

“Joel,” You whisper. He hums. “Im cold.”

“S’cause youre not wearin’ any pants.”

“And whos fault is that?”

“Still yours.”

“I was left out in the rain like a sad, sopping wet cat. One that was left in a box all alone with no family…” You pretend to sniffle. “Dont you feel bad for me?”

Joel sighs, not saying anything more except making sure the part of the comforter behind your back is tucked into your side so the cold air doesnt get in. When hes done, you do a little shimmy up his body, and throw your leg over his hip. Oh no.

Hes alert now. Very alert. Be normal. Joel hesitates, licking the dryness off his lips. “Uh. Feel better?”

“Mhm.” You push your face into his throat, cat-like, before settling down again. Hes like a radiator.

Actually scratch that, he cant be normal.

“Darlin’.” He rasps, patting your back to get your attention.

“Mm?”

“Your leg. Move it.”

A few beats pass. “Why?”

“Because…” Wow, he didnt think hed get this far. You shift forward and Joel lets out a quiet exhale through his nose, one that couldve been masked by the rain if you werent so close.

“Are you-”

“No! No. Its- Its not what you think-” He cant see your face in the darkness but he knows you feel the semi-hard struggling through the confines of his pants. Lame.

“Joel,” You say, soft. Your hands slide up his arm to cradle his jaw. Lightning flashes into the room, giving you a glimpse of Joels tight expression. He whispers your name back, just as soft.

“This is normal.”

Its normal, it is! Except for the fact that you guys havent had sex yet. The stress of being intimate is too much, kills his boner in a blink. The longer he waits the worse the anxiety gets.

“I-I know.”

You place a hand on his chest, feeling it pound away like crazy through all the soft muscle.

“Youve been taking your medication, right?”

Has he?

The silence of him thinking is proof enough. “Joel-”

He sighs, rubbing his eyes through the darkness .“I know, I know. Shoot, Im sorry. I just forget sometimes.”

“Its okay.” The pad of your thumb strokes the tops of his cheek, and you press a tender kiss to his mouth to soothe him. “...Want me to remind you?”

The softness of your lips has him a bit dazed. “Huh?”

“I said, do you want me to remind you? I can- You know, call you before you leave work. Make sure you take them.”

“You know I wake up at five-o-clock in the mornin’ , right?”

“I know.”

In a whisper, “Okay.”

Joels rough palms trail down your back and stop at the curve of your butt, finger tips delicately tracing the skin above your shorts. You shiver.

Barely above a whisper. “We dont have to go all the way.”

He says your name again, laced with worry. He doesnt want you to feel pressured.

You pull your leg off his hip and push yourself up, settling your hands on either side of Joels head.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yes-”

“-And you cant get all in your head about it. You stay here, with me. You stay present.”

“Okay, okay.” He nods, a bit defeated. “I will stay present.”

“When you...When you say you dont wanna have sex, what is it that youre thinking exactly? I know you said you just get really nervous but I feel like youre not being totally honest.”

Joel stays quiet, idly rubbing your sides. Maybe you are a cat. Just getting to feel any part of you is soothing. “I jus’ want you to feel good. ‘Fraid ill do somethin’ you dont like.”

“You cant assume how I feel, Joel. Being intimate.. It takes time to learn what the other person likes.”

He sighs. “I know.” Youre always right.

Adding on, “Like I said, we dont have to go all the way,” You lean further back, situating yourself on his hips. He lets out a shaky breath when he feels the pressure of your ass through his sweats.

“But, I want to start somewhere. I want to feel you.”

“Fuck- Um-” Hes shaking now, letting you grind your hips down onto him. Joel cant seem to control the way his hips instinctively push up to meet yours. Youre both becoming of a mess of little gasps and hot breaths and tiny whimpers already.

You hunch forward, guiding his hand under your your shirt- His shirt- letting him feel up the supple skin of your stomach, then the area where your ribs are, then your-

“And I want you to feel me,”

Surprisingly, you did actually go all the way that night.

Your sex life was a bit of a rocky start, but after Joel got over most of his anxiety, you learned quickly just how goddamn insatiable he was. Five years in and he still regularly makes you sore.

There are a couple things you learned about him and his sexual interests. He loves to take you in his truck, in your kitchen, in your bathroom, on your couch. Other, riskier places. Anywhere that isnt your bed apparently, not that he isnt fucking you there either.

Joel is handsy, so handsy infact it embarasses you to no end, especially when youre infront of others. Thats usually how it starts, too. First he kisses you, then gropes your hips and your ass, and the next thing you know, youre cumming on his fingers. Then hed bend you over, or get you on your back, or make you ride him. Is it really riding if hes just slamming up into you until your brain turns into mush?

He likes that too. Making you not think.

Youd be lying if you said its only ever him. Sleepy morning handjobs before work, whining to him over the phone and touching yourself to his voice, arching your back into him while you're washing dishes, sucking him off after hours in his office.

And while most men prefer lingerie or little costumes, Joel likes dresses. Dresses that are discreet so he can take you in the backyard when he comes home early and sees you gardening. Or when youre both at a friends house and hes had a little too much to drink and finds himself alone with you. Dresses that make it easy to play his favorite game with you. I touch you, and you make sure we dont get caught by being too loud. Joel really is the worst sometimes.

Now, you only ever wear pants when its cold, or to bed or sometimes when youre lounging, like today. Youre in some shorts and a tank top. Otherwise, its dresses all year round, usually retro styles or ones meant for spring. Joels not picky though, he loves any dress on you.

Even if you wear an extremely modest, white lacey sleep dress, looking like some kind of vintage ghost, the man would still keep you up all night. And he has. He said you looked like a princess. You guess you kind of did.

The entire thing is like an unspoken arrangement between you both. He doesnt tell you to wear them, you just do.

And he works hard to spoil you, so why not buy as many cute dresses as possible?

You got a cute dress today too, on the same day Joel has off. You think its going to be a new favorite of his.

The big polymailer stays hidden behind your back. Be casual. “Uh- Nothing!”

“Nothin’?”

“Mhm.”

“Whats behind your back then?”

You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.”

“Lemme see then. Show me your hands-”

“Hey, Mrs. Miller!”

Both you and Joel turn your heads to the voice, and only one of you has the energy to fake a a smile. Your neighbor is stopping in his driveway, having come back from a jog it looks.

“Hi, Lee.”

Joel really, really, really doesnt like Lee. You dont like him either, but youre not one to cause problems. Lee on the other hand, is. Hes a bit younger than you, and a lot younger than Joel. Hes one of those tech dudes with a massive ego, thinks that youll be swayed by his money and his “charm” and youth as if youre some sad housewife in need of saving. Gross.

And another thing, Lee doesnt even actually live here! Hes here ever so often to visit his dad between, you dont know, tech expos? You forget. Joel believes he started showing up more often to see you.

Youre walking towards the porch again. Joels looking especially unhappy to see him today, knuckles pulled taut into a fist. His lips stay pressed into a thin line, careful not to let anything slip out. He usually lets you do most of the talking, as much as it pains him.

Joels really not a fan of the way Lees eyes take a trip up your bare legs. Little shit.

“Out with no shoes again, Mrs. Miller?”

“You know me, Im uh- Im weird.”

“The weird ones do it best.” He smiles, all teeth. It gives you the creeps. His attention is on Joel now. Its like watching a puppy try to one up a wolf. “Right, Joel?”

“Uh huh.” Whatever that means.

“Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, Mrs. Miller.” Lee crosses into your driveway and you glance briefly at Joel, as if to make sure he isnt going to start growling at the other to stay away. Youre clutching the package to your chest now.

“Have you ever been to a support group for uh- you know, the spouses of addicts? I have a friend from work and shes really struggling.”

Lees tone is sugary sweet, but the fake kind you put in diet soda except that stuff is way better. Joel sighs from the door. You stand there, dumbfounded on the porch steps because what the fuck is he going on about.

You clear your throat, keeping your voice firm. “No. Ive never needed to.”

Joels voice cuts in like a knife. “Been clean for almost twenty years now.”

“Yeah but, you know,” He shrugs, squinting a bit under the morning sun. “Relapses happen.”

Joel and Lee are at a stand still, and the moment Joel lets the arm leaning on the frame drop to his side, you know youre in for a lot of trouble. You move quickly towards the door. “We have to get ready for a- uh- a thing? but Im sorry about your friend.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Miller. Im doing my best to support her.” And before he turns away, he just has to be slimy to you. “If you need someone to talk to, Im here for you.”

“No, that really wont be necess-”

Joels slinging a strong arm around you to yank you back inside before shutting the door.

“Motherfucker,” He hisses to himself, stomping through the walkway and into the kitchen.

“How-” You rub your eyes, letting them adjust to the light inside of the house. You put the package down onto the bar counter that opens up the kitchen and follow Joel to the fridge. “How does he know?? I thought-”

“Been living in this house for decades now,” His expression is tight, brows knitted together while he chugs a bottle of water. “People talk. ‘Specially if I'm being rolled into an ambulance on more than one occasion.” Joel frowns. “Fuck- I shoulda punched him in the fuckin’ face- Do you see how hard he tries so hard to flirt with you infront’a me?”

“I know, love. I was there.” You take the bottle from his hand and set it to the side, then wrap your arms around him. “Try not to let it get to you okay?”

Joel sighs into your hair, giving your body a squeeze. “I know, I know, but jus’ hearin’ him tryin’ta use my baggage to make a pass at you…S’fuckin’ evil.”

“I agree, but I dont want his blood on the driveway.”

“So get it on his driveway instead, got it.”

You giggle and tip your head up to kiss him. The tension eases from Joels shoulders, and he cups your cheeks, letting his worries melt away into your mouth. When the pads of his fingers start to slide under your tank top, youre leaning back. Youll be here for a while if this goes any further.

Joel mindlessly chases your lips, looking a bit pouty now that its over.

“Im gonna start getting ready for the barbecue, okay?”

“This early?”

“I like being punctual.”

“My brother wont give a damn if were late.” He noses your jaw, pressing a kiss here and there. Your knees are beginning to feel weak. The bastard is trying to distract you.

“But I do. The farmers market opened today, and I promised Maria I'd get her fresh strawberries before we got there, remember?”

“Alright, alright.” He grumbles into your shoulder.

Joel lets you go, watching you round the bar counter to get your package and disappear upstairs.

Ever since you came down to a freshly showered Joel, and got into the car with the gift bags you prepared for Maria and Tommy, Hes been staring at you. One wrong move and the drools gonna start pouring out of his mouth.

Your hair is in its relatively natural state, freshly washed and shiny from the oil you put in it. You put on some light makeup, and went a bit heavy handed on the blush to look sunkissed, and topped it off with a flavored lip gloss Joel especially enjoys.

Now, the dress. Its a pink floral mid-length dress, with a low cut sweetheart neckline and a corset style backing to cinch your waist and push out your chest. The material is thick and pretty, and there are two other layers under the skirt to keep its shape. You have on a pair of little pink pumps with little bows to match.

The drive to the farmers market is fairly peaceful, the windows are half down and theres music playing at low volume on the radio. You and Joel have different tastes in music, but one genre you can always agree on is alternative rock.

The weathers beautiful, sun high in the sky, and its not too hot or humid. The day really is perfect. Youre gonna soak up some sun when youre at the barbecue. Hopefully, they made lemonade again too.

Joel has been mostly quiet throughout your shopping. While it would worry some, youve been with him long enough to know that he just has a lot on his mind. What hes thinking about? Maybe youll learn when you make it back home at the end of the day.

You gasp, strolling through the grass to a stand with a mountain of apples. Granny smith, Macintosh, Pink Ladys, Honeycrisp, the works. He grunts, trying to keep the things that are already in your basket steady. You came for strawberries and are going to leave with much more than that.

Joel nudges you softly. “Remember, this is quality stuff, meaning itll go bad faster. Dont get too much.”

“Okay, got it.” You beam, and then begin inspecting the Pink Lady apples first, trying to find the ones with the best color. He keeps the basket within reach so you can drop your picks in.

"These were Sarahs favorites."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, it was funny 'cause we started arguin' over these or Red Delicious. I think Red Delicious is better."

"Thats so cute! Hmm. Should we get one for her? A Pink Lady?"

"Uh," He thinks on it for a moment, unsure, but the smile on your face helps him make a decision. "Sure, why not."

You drop two perfect Pink Ladys into the basket, moving onto the next pile.

“Hey, Joel.” You grin, holding out a wrinkled granny smith apple. “This one looks like you”

“Ha ha.” He deadpans, and grabs it from you to put back. In turn, hes reaching for the runt of the pile. A pathetically small one sitting near the bottom. “Now this one looks like you.”

“Does not!”

“Does too.”

The next stand has golden kiwis, and youre practically dragging Joel forward to try them. You ask for one, and the man at the stand slices it into halves, giving you a plastic spoon to go with.

You let Joel smell it first. “S’good.”

“Lets see if it tastes good.”

You sink your spoon into it, humming when you see how soft and easy it is to scoop out. In your mouth it goes!

Its tastes sweet, a bit mango-y and fucking delicious. You bounce in place, spoon feeding Joel next. “Oh yeah,” He smiles, smacking his lips a bit to really let the taste settle on his tongue. “Were takin’ some of these.”

You take one, then two, then three and four then five and as you reach for the sixth one, Joels stopping you with a gentle hand.

“Darlin’.”

“Right.”

For the next few stands its just you and Joel trying various kinds of fruit. Starfruit, blueberries, some mangos, and then youre going back to the truck.

“I think my favorites were the mangos and golden kiwis. I hope Maria and Tommy have enough space in their fridge for all of this.”

“They moved into a bigger house, I reckon their fridge s’probably bigger, too.”

“What time is it?”

You let go of Joels arm so he can switch the basket from one hand to the other.

“‘Bout…” Hes squinting at his watch. “12:34 in the afternoon.”

“Oh! Guess we got the shopping done sooner than I expected. Hmm. Should we stop somewhere in the mean time?-" You snap your finger when you remember something. "They opened up this cafe that has cats in it! We can drink coffee and play with them for bit! The next fourty-five minutes will go by super fast."

“Youre gonna make Cement jealous.”

You bat your hand dismissively. “Hes not gonna caaare.”

“Oh yes he will. And remind me again why we named our cat Cement?

“Uh, we were both drunk and had gotten him the day before without a name picked out?”

“A whole year later and we still kept it. Worst pet owners ever.” Joel chuckles, opening the passenger door for you like he always does.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

The giant basket of fruit goes into the back seat next to the gift bags before Joel slots himself into the drivers seat.

You fumble with the radio a bit, trying to see what else is on but ultimately landing back on your preferred station. Theyve been playing a lot of Linkin Park recently. Hell yeah. Joel buckles himself in at last, and pulls out of the parking lot.

“Marias gonna teach me how to make baked chicken,” You hum, gazing outside the window.

“You sure youre not jus’ unteachable?”

“Ha ha,” You lightly shove his shoulder, making him smile. “I thought you loved the meat sauce pasta I learned how to make.”

He settles into his seat more comfortably at the stop light, elbow rested on the window. “Got me with that one. Think I like ground turkey over beef, though.”

“Yeah? Me too. The beef tastes better but the turkey is lighter. Stops me from feeling all sick.”

“Agreed.”

Youre looking out the windshield now. Where did all the buildings go? Youre out of the city.

“Uh, Joel?”

“Mm?”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere to kill time.”

“Yeah but where?”

“Youll see.”

Your brows pinch together. “I see a whole lot of nothing except for trees."

“Almost there.”

Joel makes a hasty left turn onto some campgrounds. Your stomach starts to twist into excited knots. Is he gonna show you a baby deer or something? Bunnies? He used to be a park ranger for this area, and would tell you stories about all sorts of baby animals hed run into.

The car comes to a stop, and he turns the engine off. Silence.

“So…Were out in the woods to kill time?”

“Mhm.” Joel unbuckles his seat belt and twists into the back to grab the spare jacket he usually keeps there, then gets out of the truck and comes around the back to open the door for you.

He holds your hand to help you get down from the passenger side, and as soon as both of your shoes hit the ground Joel is on you.

You dont know where your hands should go, youve kissed Joel a thousand times and yet you still get so flustered when he catches you by surprise. You keep your hands on his shoulders for now, letting him press wet kisses to your neck and shoulder.

“This is new right? The dress?” He gives your ass an appreciative squeeze through the fabric. “Thought you looked so pretty when you came down stairs in it.”

Your heads spinning. Something about your dress?

“Woulda been okay if you let me have you earlier.” He pulls away, examining your flushed face cradled by his hand. Every part of you just fits so well in his palms. “Then I thought, why not have you now? We got time to spare.”

“Joel- We- Someone could see us-” You sputter, and Joels already shaking his head with a knowing smirk. He pulls you around to the bed of the truck, popping it open, only pausing to spread open the jacket he grabbed, just having just thrown it in there when he came around to get you.

“No ones gonna come lookin’ for us.” He turns you around, pushing you down onto your front. “As long as youre quiet.”

Fuck. You really hate this game. At least, you like to tell yourself that.

Blood rushes to your ears while Joels rough palms lift up the skirt of your dress, exposing your ass and thighs to the cool air. He whistles from behind you.

“Red lace panties?” His fingers dont shy away from tracing along the fabric covering your cunt. “This new too?”

You crane your neck over your shoulder to look at his face. “Uh.. Surprise?”

Joels smiling now, fingers dipping under the lace. “Thas' awfully sweet of you.”

His touch slips and slides around your growing wetness, then trails down to your clit. Your voice wobbles a bit and fuck- fuck hes going too fast. “Joel- Ah-” You whimper and try to push yourself up to look at him but his hand is steady on your spine, keeping you down.

Smug, “Go on, sweetheart. Keep sayin’ my name. Jus’ like that.”

A whine escapes you when he pulls away, “Nooo.” You push your ass back, as if to entice him. You succeed, because hes skipped his usual routine of fucking you with his hands and is now unbuckling his belt.

Joel rolls you onto your back, and peels your underwear all the way off, bunching it up and shoving it into his back pocket. Your face burns just watching him.

“Think i'll hold onto these for a lil’ while.”

His hands push the back of your knees towards your chest, exposing your heat. Youll never get used to the way he just seems so interested just watching your cunt squeeze around nothing.

“Thats-” You swallow, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. "Joel.”

“Relax." He coos, "Seen it a thousand times already, and ill be seein' it a thousand more. Get used to it, honey.”

Your attention flickers down to where his dick is about to meet your entrance. Joels nudging you down onto your back again and pulling the top of your dress down to expose your chest. Its when youre distracted that he actually moves to push himself in.

Both of you groan together, and Joel could never get bored of fucking you, not when your cunt just pulses around him everytime hes inside you.

Joel wastes no time fucking you once he eases all the way inside. Youre trying your best to keep quiet. Shit is no easy task. Its like Joel is trying to get you guys arrested.

He props himself up with a hand near your head, and lets the other keep one of your legs pinned open. The moans start to claw out of your throat. “Joel- Joel-”

“Shh. Thas’ enough.” He growls through his teeth, fucking you harder. “Youre gonna- Gh- Get us caught-”

Something rustles between the trees, making you both freeze. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching Joel straighten up to look around.

After a few seconds of squinting, Joel can see a few foxes moving about through the trees. Thank fuck. His shoulders visibly relax.

Hushed, “E-Everything okay?”

“Yeah, jus’ some animals.”

And like that, hes back to it. His dick is going to make your eyes permanently stay rolled into your head.

Joel is always just so handsome when hes pounding into you. His forehead gets shiny with sweat, and his jaw is tight from clenching his teeth, keeping himself quiet so he can focus on your moans. His face is noticeably redder against his usual farmers tan too. Really, hes just so attractive.

A flurry of yes and harder and fuck spills out of your mouth and into your palms. Not too loud, you try to remind yourself.

“Joel- S’too much-”

“Nah, thas’ not it.” He huffs, humorous. “You can take it. Y'always do. In fact, you love gettin’ your cunt bullied by me, aint that right?” As if to get his point across, he thrust in all the way to the hilt, making you keen. You forgot how to breathe, lungs drawing tight in your chest.

"Fuck," You manage to squeeze out.

Your palms push weakly at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself somehow. His head drops to the junction of your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply.

“You good?” He checks in, breath hot on your skin. As if your crying isnt enough.

“So g-good, Joel- Fuck- Youre so good.”

With a little nod, Joels pushing himself up, switching to slow and deep strokes, really digging himself into you, and trying to find that spot he likes to call home.

He massages your chest, then squeezes your sides and your hips and finally, his thumb finds your clit. Immediately, you jolt.

“Oh fuck-”

“Quiet.” And he says it to keep the charade going, even though his favorite thing is hearing your sobs.

His thumb rubbing incessantly against your that sweet little nub of yours. You choke, and Joels chuckling, watching the way you squirm, body not knowing whether it should lean into his touch because its too good or away because its too much.

It starts with this firey feeling under the pad of his thumb, then deep inside your stuffed cunt. Youre going to cum.

Your hands fly to your mouth again, and you get all wide eyed from the sensation. Its cute. Your muscles pull taut, legs locking around Joels hips. Youre wailing into your palm when it happens.

“Good girl,” His voice soothes you through it. “Very good.”

He pets away the fly aways sticking to your sweaty face when its over. Your eyes drop shut while you catch your breath.

Joels moving again now. He rolls his hips a few times, and thumb is building the foundation of another orgasm in you. Youre shaking badly.

Your words slur too, “Cant- Too soon- Joel- Joel-”

“Another one.” Joel says firmly, but breathless.

Youre gasping, not sure where to focus your eyes. The trees around you look like theyre spinning. Your attention is back on Joel, whos looking rather satisfied watching you squirm and cry. If thats how wants to play, then fine.

Your hands slide up Joels biceps, and rests on the nap of his neck to bring him down. “Juh-Joel,” You pant, cradling his face with both hands. “Youre so good- The best-”

Oh, Joel likes that one, you can tell by the way he looks away briefly. Shyness. Excitement runs up your spine. Joel loves being told hes doing well.

“You are- Nghh-” You swallow the drool in your mouth, trying to get the words out clearly. “The best husband I could ever ask for.”

Joel wheezes, head dropping into the curve of your shoulder. “Please.”

“S’true,” You nod rapidly, fingers curling into his hair. “Youre so good to me and-and youre mine and- Joel- Im yours.”

“Jesus-” He groans, soaking up the feeling of you pressing kisses to his face and up his jaw.

“Hhah- No one else can have me, okay? No one- Not even-”

The name doesnt even come out of your mouth before Joels coming to a stop to slip his arms all the way around your middle. With the new leverage he has on your body, hes drilling his way into you. You fucking squeal, rules now long forgotten. Youre a useless ragdoll in his arms and he wouldnt have it any other way.

Your lips are shiny with spit and left over lip gloss, and he can still taste the mintiness in his tongue. Every now and again your eyes drop shut, but his dick just punches into your guts a little harder. Look at me.

Your brain is mush, just the way he likes it, and youre perfectly pliant in his arms, babbling over how good you feel. Hes kisses along the valley of your breasts now, stopping to suck the flesh of your nipples.

Youre just so pretty. Even when you have bedhead, or youre snotty from a cold, or youre all dirty from working in the garden youre still so pretty. Including now, all sweaty with you lipgloss all smudged and your mascara starting to run. Youre perfect.

Joel grunts loud, jaw clenched tight as he gets lost in the feeling of your insides. His perfect little wife.

When he cums, hes doubling over with a loud grunt, getting a few last thrusts in before his spent floods your cunt.

Youre blinking away your tears, now watching the clouds inch along the sky. It really is a beautiful day. You pet Joels sweaty hair, and kiss the side of his temple. Your core throbs faintly. Jesus, he did a number on you.

“Love,” You say softly, patting his back.

“Mm?”

“Get up.” Another pat. “Youre squishing me.”

Joel backs off to buckle himself up, but you stay seated to catch your breath and adjust your dress. At least it didnt get ripped during all the… Commotion. Not like last time.

“I need my underwear back.”

“Nope,”

“Joel.”

He kisses the center of your forehead and helps you down from the bed and into the passenger seat instead. “Told you i'm keepin’ ‘em.”

You sputter, “I cant go to barbecue commando!”

“Sure you can.” He pops open the glove compartment and gets out some tissues, hand snaking under your dress again to clean you. You sigh softly at the sensation.

“Youre the worst.”

“I am indeed the worst.” Joel pulls the seatbelt over your chest and clicks it in. “You can tell me all about it on the way to Tommys.”

#joel miller #the last of us #hbo joel miller #the last of us part 1 #the last of us season one #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x you #fanfic #mocha writes #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal #modern au #smut fic #might cross post to ao3 idk...#pleeaaaase tell me if u guys like this #glaze me glaze me glaze me #Lie 2 me and say u love it...

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sugar-phoenix · 8 months ago

Text

𖥔 . overheating . 𖥔

synopsis: you're out on an operation with Boothill, and after a long battle and a quick getaway, you turn to realize that the cyborg cowboy is...overheating. With all the implications that come with that. tags: f!reader (Boothill refers to reader as "Lady" and "Missy" once), no smut, fluff, light romance a/n: 1.3k words, wrote this in a craze based off of a headcanon that @k9wa and @nvuy posted about! tickled my brain too much!

ao3 link here!

The sound of gunshots rang out in the night. You ducked in your getaway vehicle, a hover car illegally outfitted with nitrogen turbo boosters. Sticking our head out of the car every now and then, you aimed your pistol at the heads of IPC guards, knocking them dead left and right.

Boothill had been inside the IPC base for a while now. It was supposed to be a quick job. He only needed to run in, download the secret data straight to one of the USB ports on his hip, and then run out. Probably nailing an IPC soldier or ten in the head while he was there.

“Boothill,” you muttered, “where are you?”

You met the cowboy only once before this operation — he had sought you out as a fellow Ranger against the IPC for your getaway vehicle.

“’M gonna be lootin’ a pretty big IPC base, ‘n I need some kinda escape route,” he drawled. “You git me?”

You happily agreed. Why not? Anything that would be a loss for the IPC was a win for you.

Not to mention the cyborg cowboy was one of the finer men you’d come across in your travels.

Presently, you shook that thought out of your mind and fired a shot at another guard. It’s better to stay clear-headed when you’re in a shootout. Any unholy thoughts were perfectly fine to sift through in safer, calmer settings.

“Where is that dang cowboy?” you muttered again for the fifth time.

A hoot and a holler rang through the air, and you glanced towards the entrance. As though in answer to your question, Boothill emerged from within the base, running full gallop towards the vehicle.

“Start drivin,’” he ordered as he slid into the passenger seat.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied as more IPC soldiers spilled out of the entrance. The engine roared as you slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

“Ugh, turn up the A/C,” Boothill groaned.

“Turn ‘em up yourself, cowboy,” you responded. “I’m too busy making sure we’re getting away.”

The cyborg reached towards the dashboard and rotated the knob to the coolest possible setting. He leaned back into his seat, huffing and panting.

“All good?”

“Yeah. ‘S just a lot of fighting. Got me worked up.” He sniffed. “This dang A/C ain’t cool enough for me.”

You shrugged, checking the rearview mirror. The IPC vehicles were hot on your heels. Thankfully, that wasn’t a problem for you. As an expert driver, you were fully trained in the art of evasive maneuvers. It’s what the cowboy hired you to do, after all.

You sped into the nearby city, a metropolis that conveniently had many twisty alleys and tight turns.

“This’ll be a piece of cake. Don’t you worry, cowboy,” you chuckled. The cowboy didn’t answer, and you were too busy focused on the road to check on him.

Drifting through intersections and jumping across lanes, you managed to throw off the majority of the IPC squadron pursuing you. There were only three small hover vehicles left, chasing you through a single-lane alleyway. You revved your engine to taunt them and cackled as the reverberations echoed off the buildings on either side.

The hovercar drifted, fishtailing as you made a sharp turn to the right. You swore as the sound of screaming metal rang out in the air, signaling that your spoilers had scraped against the walls.

“That’s gonna cost ya, cowboy,” you quipped, smiling as you saw two of the three vehicles crash into the wall behind you.

“Lady, I ain’t at fault for your drivin’ skills.”

You snapped your head towards Boothill, giving him a full-on death glare.

“Not that you drive bad, missy! I was just sayin,” he said, raising his hands up in surrender. It was then that you realized he’d unzipped his jacket, letting it fall lazily off his shoulders.

Heat rising to your cheeks, you snapped your attention back to the road, trying to evade the last IPC hover vehicle. A few quick turns and an IPC crash later, you pulled into a dark alleyway and braked, turning off the car.

“Why are we stoppin’?” Boothill asked.

“They’re probably swarming the city. Best to lie low for now until it all subsides.”

There was shuffling in the passenger seat, and you turned to look.

Boothill laid back against the seat, his limbs sprawled out. His bangs were arranged in wet clumps, and sweat gleamed off his face in the glow from distant neon signs. The rest of his long hair was put up along the headrest behind him, leaving his neck bare. His jacket, bandana, and hat were thrown in the back, leaving his upper torso bare for all the world to see. His pants were shrugged low on his hip, almost revealing his unmentionables (did cyborgs even have unmentionables?). Panting and huffing, he closed his eyes, frowning. You could hear a loud hum emanate from within his robot body.

“Boothill?” you croaked, fighting to speak through the feeling of your brain frying in your skull. It wasn’t just his appearance that was, well, hot, but a boiling heat was radiating off of him. You had hardly noticed in all the earlier action.

“Yes, darlin’?” He groaned. Your heart fluttered at the way he said darlin.’

“What. Are you doing?” You hardly thought the cowboy was one to give in to his darker desires at the drop of a hat, although there was something off about the scene that told you it wasn’t motivated by lust.

He chuckled before answering.

“Told ya I got worked up during that fight. I’m overheatin.’ One of the problems with having a robot body, ya get me?” Boothill breathed out heavily, his breath steaming in the air. “Fudge,” he muttered, closing his eyes and frowning again.

“Are you in pain?” you asked. His stance was akin to a man tortured, impaled from the back with hot iron spears.

“Nah, darlin,’ nothin’ like that. Just… hot, is all. Really fudgin’ hot.” Boothill let out a breath of steam again. “It’ll go away, like it always does. I jus’ need ta’ keep still for a lil’ bit. Let it cool down.”

You leaned over him, trying to ignore how close you were to his hot (both physically and metaphorically) abs, and pushed the passenger door open. It only went so far as the narrow alleyway let it, but you could feel the cold air of the night wash over you both.

“Thank ya’ kindly, darlin,’” he murmured.

“Don’t mention it,” you said, leaning back. You jumped when your arm brushed over his body.

“Did I burn ya?” Boothill didn’t move but his eyes fixed you with a worried look.

“No, you didn’t, it’s just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to end that sentence without embarrassing yourself. A heat creeped over your cheeks again.

“Oh, I see,” he smiled. “You can touch me if ya want darlin.’ I don’t bite.” He punctuated that sentence with a wide grin, showing off his shark-like teeth.

“But not right now,” he said as you tentatively reached an arm towards him. “Not while I’m hot like this. And it ain’t cause I might burn ya sweetie, but with all due respect, I ain’t wanna touch anything right this moment.”

“Got it,” you said sitting straight back in your seat.

A silence filled the car, gently broken by the whir of Boothill’s internal fans and the ambient hum of the city outside.

It was a comfortable, soft kind of silence. You let it soak into your flesh, down to your bones, etching this moment inside of yourself. It was nice.

“’Course, when I’m not overheatin,” Boothill murmured, “you’re free to touch whatever.” He grinned mischievously.

“Stop it,” you said. “You’re gonna make me overheat.”

dividers by cafekitsune

#hsr fanfiction #hsr fanfic #boothill #boothill hsr #hsr boothill #boothill fanfic #boothill x reader #fluff #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfiction #honkai star rail fanfic #boothill honkai star rail #honkai star rail boothill #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #✎ . writings #✤.fanfics

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akazzzaa · 1 year ago

Text

Were / are they a Virgin?

Summery- Where they a virgin when they where humans? are they still ?

Genre- Smut. MDNI

Warnings- Talks of sex, masturbation.

Human Muzan

Was a virgin- He didn’t get married. He had a wealthy family but never found a wife. He was born with a frail body so even if he did have a wife-he couldn't. Or at least it would be very bad experience putting sex off for him. Although he never had a big “desire” to have sex- he still was curious about it and often masturbated as a human.

Demon Muzan

Not a virgin- Don't really need to explain- but he's had sex a lot. He likes it, but can live without it. He has other things to focus on so he doesn't seek sex a lot. Sex does come naturally to him though anyway. He's a 'young' good looking man after all. Who often manipulates women and people to get what he wants. If he has to play Husband and a Oiran, he will.

He has also had sex in his female form.

Human Kokushibo

Not a virgin-His first and last was with his wife. He had a duty as a man to produce heirs and that was it to him. He did like sex, but was very insecure. He was emotionally unavailable I suppose, and never expressed himself.

Demon kokushibo

Virgin. He remembers his past life and know how sex works, but he doesn’t see humans as equals- only as cattle. He’s not opposed to it though, he’s seen plenty of humans that are pleasing to the eye and would like to indulge in. But never acted on it.

Human Douma

Not a virgin. Was never married or had plans to - but he was good looking and had different features that made him more 'exotic' so a lot of people where curious, and so was he. He didn't have a lot of sex due to being so busy - only problem he faced was that people fell in love with him after they had sex. He never felt that.

Daemon Douma

Not a virgin. He has toyed with men and women and finds it entertaining, plus it does feels good. People who have had sex with him don't really live to tell anyone else. There are a few who live. Doesn't actively seek sex but he can tell when a humans wants him. He will also use the art of seduction to get what he wants too.

Human Akaza

Virgin. He was planning on marring Koyuki and was waiting for their special night. He never thought he would- having tattoos of a criminal over his body has made him feel worthless so he had a lot of doubt about finding love. Him and Koyuki had kissed a lot but that's as far as it went.

Demon Akaza

Double virgin. He never feels the desire for sex. He only wants to get stronger. All he does is follows Muzans orders, train and eat.

Human Hantengu

Not a virgin- Has had wife's. No idea if any kids have come out of it but there where attempts.

Demon Hantengu

Virgin? Maybe the lust clone has had sex but the other clones and himself? Virgins.

Human Gyokko

Virgin

Demon Gyokko

DOUBLE VIRGIN

Human Gyutaro

Virgin. Women would scream at the sight of him. Not only because he was ugly but had bad hygiene, malnourished and weak. He was fighting everyday of his life. Never thought about it.

Demon Gyutaro

Virgin. Only as a demon he got curious and had the desire for it, he hasn't tried to have sex cause he know he will just get laughed at which will result in someone's death.

Human Nakime

Not a virgin. She had a husband in her human life but never had kids with him.

Demon Nakime

Virgin. Doesn't have the desire to have sex.

#demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #douma x reader #akaza x reader #douma #kokushibo x reader #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #akaza #nakime #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro #gyokko x reader #gyokko #hantengu clones #hantengu x reader #hantengu

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bitchface24-7 · 29 days ago

Note

Oops my hand slipped and I’m back again (for the 3rd day in a row (I think I have a problem))

So following the trend of me seeing too many fanfics of smthn I don’t vibe with, I’ve noticed that a lot of Jayce and/or Viktor x reader fics have the reader as a scientist (makes sense writing-wise, provides a lot of opportunity for characters to interact and bond)

Problem is, I am dogshit at science. I was good at most subjects in high school, but science? Nearly failed. I was good at math and word problems too which made it even more confusing to me but it is what it is ig. So I was hoping for another JayVik x reader where this time, the reader is an artist

Now I primarily draw OCs and people (usually digital or w/ marker) so I’d like smthn leaning towards that but frankly you can do whatever

I just think it’s be funny if, while Jayce n Viktor do their cool nerd shit, the reader is fully unhelpful and doodling in their sketchbook. Quality time except I’m drawing sexualized men (gender equality) and my hot boyfriends are solving global trade or whatever

(Mayhaps also drawing them for studies and anatomy practice and showing them because I like forcing ppl to look at my art >:)) )

Again, take as long as you need to write this, hope you’re doing good :))

MY MUSES - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: after escaping Noxus with your best friend Mel, you've cherished the peace of Piltover compared to the wartime of Noxus. You were able to flourish in the city of progress with your artistry. It was the way you and Mel found solace in your old home. Now, you've been commissioned by the council to paint a portrait of the Hextech duo.

warnings: talks of wartime, insecurities, awkward talk, becoming friends with J + V, anatomy practice, complimenting your two boys, fluff, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I understand your frustration, even I've fallen into “make reader a scientist to make life a little easier.” I hope y'all enjoy artist reader!

You're painting in your studio at the Academy when the door is opened, and you smell the delicious fragrance of vanilla, cardamom, and sandalwood, it’s Mel.

You put your paintbrush down and turn to look at your best friend, a smile beaming on your face. You get up and go for a hug before stopping yourself, your clothes are stained with paint and you don’t want to ruin Mel’s pretty white dress.

She fondly rolls her eyes and pulls you into a hug anyway. Mel’s not a very touchy person. It was seen as a weakness is Noxus. She’s only really touchy with you, you’ve been her friend for as long as you can remember. She wholeheartedly trusts you.

And you know how rare that is.

“Hello dove. How’re you today?”

You scrunch your nose at the nickname, it was a nickname given to you when you were much younger. “It’s because you don’t see the glory of war. You’re gentle. Something I desperately need in my life.” Mel had explained, her Medarda Mask no where in sight.

“I’m good. I’m almost done the landscape you commissioned for the council room.”

Mel’s smile widens the tiniest bit, but her gaze is downcast. This isn’t a social call. She’s been tasked to ask you something.

“Mel, I understand. Just, tell me what you need from me.”

A sigh escapes the gorgeous woman, “The council has requested a portrait to be made of the two Hextech innovators, Viktor and Jayce Talis.”

You raise your brows in confusion, “Okay… why is that a bad thing?”

Mel leans on a clean section of your work station, a hand coming up to rub her forehead, “They’re constantly working. They don’t see the prospect of taking a break. If you were to paint them, you’d have to paint them in the lab; as they do dangerous experiments. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

You place your hand over top Mel’s hand that’s braced against the desk, “I’ll be okay. I can’t imagine they’d let anyone get hurt.”

Mel nods sagely, the hand that was rubbing her forehead is now placed over your hand. She’s now cupping your one hand and rubbing her thumb over your knuckles.

“I’ll tell them what the council has demanded. When will you be free to paint them?”

You look over to the almost finished landscape painting sitting on your easel, “Give me a week.”

Mel nods, gives you one last hug, and leaves your studio to break the news to Viktor and Jayce.

You just hope they’re nice to you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The week passed by in a flash, and here you are. Standing in front of two very large doors that make you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

You don’t understand why you’re so nervous. You’ve painted portraits of the top-class in Piltover. The cream of the crop. The top one percent, and you were fine. You were mentally rolling your eyes every few minutes, but you were fine.

You’re now asked to paint two scientists and you feel like you’re going to have a stroke.

At least Mel gave you some advice in regards to both men, “Jayce is quite kind, easy-going, and easy to talk to. You’ll make quick friends with him as you are. His partner Viktor on the other hand… is a different story. He’s cordial, but stubborn. He’s quite witty with a sass that almost matches mine. He’d prefer it if you skipped the flowery talk and just got straight to the point. He’s not a fan of the mind numbing politics of Piltover. Say what you mean or don’t say anything at all.”

With that mantra repeating in your head, you knock on the doors to their lab.

“Come in!” A voice exclaims, “We cannot leave our stations, the gems may become volatile if we do.” Another voice adds, this time with an unfamiliar accent.

You lightly push open the doors and are stunned by the state of the lab. Papers everywhere, equations on a blackboard you don’t even want to attempt to understand, ink stains, scraps of metal.

You suppose this is their version of an art studio.

“Oh!” The first voice you heard exclaims, “You must be Mel’s friend, the one who’s been commissioned to paint us. I’m Jayce. The one brooding over there with goggles on his face is Viktor.”

A scoff, “I am not brooding. I simply do not see the purpose of a portrait being made of us. It takes time away from our research!”

You cut in, reminding yourself of Mel’s advice, “The council has ordered it. Besides, I need to study you two for a little bit. Understand your anatomy and proportions. Then when I have a clear understanding, we’ll take one day out of your schedule to get the painting done.”

Viktor raises his goggles, putting them into is hair and the most beautiful pair of eyes you’ve ever seen narrows onto you, “You’ll only need one day to paint us?”

“The weather is constantly changing. That means so is my light source, my shadows, my colours.” You explain easily, “If we spend the whole day together, I’ll be able to easily get the portrait done and you two can go back to work. Sound good?”

Viktor purses his lips before nodding, Jayce just looks between the two of you with a small smile. He thought that would’ve taken a lot longer.

Guess you’re pretty special.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

One Week Later.

Their work is fascinating. You don’t understand quite a bit of it, but their enthusiasm and passion make up for your lack of knowledge.

Here they are trying to solve most of the worlds problems and you’re sketching them in your sketchbook with hearts in your eyes.

You focus on their bodies, how they bend, contort, their planes and shadows. How light glows onto them.

You focus on their unique features. Jayce’s sharp canines, Viktor’s cheekbones and moles. Jayce’s broad chest and Viktor’s cane and brace.

Those two points are especially important. They’re so detailed. And they’re a part of Viktor, you’re not going to erase something so vital to him as a human being to make the portrait “nicer to look at” according to the upper echelon of Piltover.

You’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t feel a presence come up behind you, “Whatcha doing?”

You jolt, putting a hand to your heart as your pencil drops to the ground, “By Janna Jayce! You scared me!”

A boisterous laugh permeates the lab, “You we’re so focused, I couldn’t help but wonder what you were doing.”

“We’ll… I was drawing my two very beautiful muses.”

There’s a small silence in the lab.

“Your—“ Viktor starts, then clears his throat as Jayce stands there, stunned, “Your beautiful muses?”

You nod, not realizing their disbelief, “Of course. The two of you have such beautiful features. Jayce is quite tall, with broad shoulders, a tiny waist, and strong legs. A nice hair cut, strong brows, big eyes, and pink lips. You, Viktor on the other hand—“

You’re cut off by said man, “Are not as conventional—“

You cut him off this time, “Are also tall, lean, lithe, with long beautiful legs. You have a face carved out of marble, messy hair, eyes that look like liquid gold, beauty marks, and a nice pale complexion that compliments Jayce’s tan. You’re both quite handsome, just is different ways.”

The two men are stunned into silence, and it takes a few minutes before you realize what you said. You feel your face heat up as you try to hide behind your sketch book. Viktor lightly smiles at that as Jayce laughs and forces your sketch book back down onto your lap.

“You know, I’ve never heard such an honest compliment before.”

“Neither have I.”

You feel like killing yourself. Maybe jumping out of one of the lab windows will do the trick.

“So,” Viktor’s interrupts your dark humorous thoughts, “Do you feel prepared to paint the portrait?”

You look the two men dead in the eye, even as embarrassment consumes you.

“Yes.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A day is set and you bring all your art supplies that you need into the lab. You even set up a place for the portrait to be.

The setting will be in front of their main work station, the hexcore and hexgems glittering in the background. You brought a comfortable armchair for Viktor to sit on, you know these paintings can take some time and you don’t want to over-exert his leg. You assume Jayce can stand for a few hours, placed right next to Viktor.

As you explain your thought process to them, the more excited they seem. And to think, they didn’t want to do this originally.

“Ok, get comfortable. Viktor you can put your cane to rest against one of the arms of the chair. Jayce, can you place your hand on the top of the headrest? Perfect. You two comfortable?”

You get nods and yes’ as your answer.

With that, you start to paints them.

You ensure to be as diligent as possible. You start with the boys, adding bits and pieces to the background as you go. You make sure to her the green in Jayce’s eyes, the beauty marks on Viktor’s face. The house Talis emblem on Jayce’s jacket; the intricacies of Viktor’s cane and leg brace. The purple and blue glows of the Hextech give the painting an almost magical feeling.

You have to say, this may be your best portrait yet.

A couple hours pass and you deem the painting complete. The two boys sigh, Jayce cracks his back as Viktor cracks his neck. Most of the painting was done is silence, a few tiny conversations sprinkled throughout the process.

You didn’t want them to move.

The two come to where you’re sitting and gaze at the portrait in awe. It’s… them. It looks so life like, as good as a picture. But it’s softer, it looks beautiful.

And they look phenomenal.

“Are you sure that’s us?” Viktor jokes, pointing at the painting, “Those men are incredibly handsome.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, “Now you know what to say when you look in a mirror. That’s how you look, and it’s how you’ll be remembered.”

Jayce smiles and puts a hand on both your and Viktor’s shoulders. Viktor looks touched at the sentiment.

“You should move your art stuff to be here. Permanently.” Jayce states easily.

You almost choke on your own spit, “Pardon? Why would I do that?”

“Because we'd miss you,” Viktor replies a cocky look on his face.

You huff out a laugh, “Ill be of no help to you. I'm not a science brain. I'd just be in the lab drawing you two constantly.”

“We’d pose for you.” Jayce jokes

“Even if I wanted to practice nude anatomy?”

Viktor hums, “Not in the lab obviously, but yes even then.”

You smile at them, “It’s a deal then.”

And to think you were scared they wouldn't be nice to you. You just obtained two pretty muses (hopefully for the rest of your life.)

TADA!!! This was such a cute request. I hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. Pebble, you keep those requests coming (and everyone else who requests too 🫵😏)

I have like four requests now in my inbox and I squealed when I saw it. I've never had so many requests before. Usually my inbox has like… spam and fishing schemes. So this is amazing to me!!

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #jayce talis #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor imagine #viktor x reader #jayce imagine #jayce x reader #jayvik x reader #fem!reader #male!reader #gender neutral reader #banners by cafekitsune

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bouquetface · 8 months ago

Text

Future Spouse Based on Nakshatra - Pt. Three

Please read the following for accuracy:

Check for which nakshatra of your dakarkaka.

You may want to check the nakshatra of your Venus (for wife) and Jupiter (for husband) as well.

You may want to read for your moon & AatmaKaaraka nakshatra to see if the traits apply to you.

DISCLAIMER: Keep in mind accuracy is influenced by the ENTIRE natal chart. Planet, sign & house + aspects made all impact accuracy.

DHANISHTA:

General traits:

Full, downturned lips. Youthful looking. Slightly bushy eyebrows. Prominent hairstyle - often longer, wavy, usually lighter.

Strong sense of responsibility.

Often it said they will become wealthy. They are good at research and analysis. They can offer helpful insight - out of the box type thinking.

Strong pull towards art. Deep love for music, film, literature, dancing etc. Interests in history or mythology are likely too.

Likely to have a successful marriage. Late marriage and having kids later in life has been noticed.

Negative traits:

Tend to be inconsiderate - they will almost do anything to get to their desires.

May lie or withhold information for personal gain. Loose/bendable moral compass.

PURVA ASHADA:

General traits:

Often beautiful. Women tend to be thicker. Sensual & soft appearance. Bow shaped lip. Men tend to have a bright appearance.

Influential people. Polite people. Well liked.

Appearance can create haters for no reason.

Supportive. Loyal to friends. Humble.

Humorous. Often their style of humour is overlooked &/or misunderstood.

Likely to have many children (3 or more. Depends on entire natal chart though as well as partner’s chart)

Negative traits:

Do not like suggestions/advice. Do not like being told what to do.

Some tend to have a superiority complex. This isn’t for no reason though. They often are attractive and/or have status in life. This creates enemies making them defensive. Their mindset can become “you need me, I don’t need you”

Women tend to harbour resentment for men due to negative experiences.

Likely to have negative experiences with authority figures as well (ex: bosses, parents or older siblings).

BHARANI:

General traits:

Oval or Oblong face shape likely. Thin to medium lips. Unique look. Stand out in a crowd. Reasons vary: Tall, eye-catching style, shape facial features etc.

Creative. Clever. Materialistic.

Fast moving and/or fast thinking.

Spontaneous. Loyal to friends.

Child like nature. Nurturing side. Deeply cares for animals and humanity. May not feel comfortable expressing this.

Generally it is believed these individuals have long lives.

Negative traits:

Impatient. Impulsive. Lacking discipline. Some are self destructive.

Prone to being overbearing. Those who have kids tend to become very anxious about their children’s life & health.

KRITTIKA:

General traits:

Pointed chin. Naturally thick eyebrows. Natural thin lips. Round, large captivating eyes. Aspect to Saturn can create a bony & tall body type. Men tend to be muscular. Traditionally handsome.

Materialistic. May like to collect.

Respectable. Determined. Well known within their circles - for good or bad reasons.

Confident. Leader.

Straightforward person.

Negative traits:

Critical of others & themselves.

May lack patience. Impulsive side. Repressed aggression.

HASTA:

General traits:

Usually thin arched eyebrows. Thin to medium lip. Diamond face shape likely. Generally tall with small & soft features.

Appears unattached. Adaptable.

Often gains wealth at a later age.

Charming, creative & calm demeanour. Makes them attractive & admired.

Tend to have more daughters than son. (Depends on entire natal chart though as well as partner’s chart)

Negative traits:

Competitive side. Not necessarily a negative because it keeps them motivated.

Can be overindulgent.

Have a controlling side to them.

PURVA PHALGUNI:

General traits:

Medium to full lips. Soft square fade shape likely. Smaller forehead, big/lots of curly hair. Many baby hairs. Hard to tame hair.

Youthful. Often active hobbies/interests.

Charming. Open minded.

Love & appreciation of art. Creative.

Intelligent. Leader.

Negative traits:

Vindictive when upset.

Hates being uncomfortable.

May desire to be center of attention.

Lack of motivation can make them become careless or lazy.

#astrology observations #astrology #vedic astro observations #vedic astro notes #vedic astrology #nakshatra #dhanishta #purva ashadha #bharani #krittika #hasta #purva phalguni

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cripplecharacters · 3 months ago

Note

what are the top 5 things you'd like to see a disabled character do in a story?

Hey! This is a very vast question and a lot of it would depend on the character's actual disability - I have completely different wishlists for what I'd like to see intellectually disabled characters do versus what I'd like to see characters with facial differences do. Different stereotypes and tropes affect different groups of disabled people differently - to work with this fact, the below list will try to account for as large amount of disabled character as I can reasonably think of, but it won't have as much detail as you might want. If you have a specific kind of character in mind, feel free to send another ask.

Not in specific order:

Disabled characters being in love. Disabled x disabled, disabled x abled, disabled x very different kind of disabled, all these variants but including more than 2 characters (since I've yet to see a polyamorous disabled character), all of this.

And I mean in actual relationships, not the pitiful and devoid of actual chemistry thing that we usually get (think "really sad disabled man only becomes happy after an abled woman takes pity on him, but they never kiss or god forbid have sex because that's gross and the disableds surely don't do that anyway").

I want to see an interabled couple going through IVF because they want to have kids, a wife with hemiplegia getting to grow old and wrinkly with her autistic husband, a lesbian with Treacher Collins syndrome moving in with her chronically ill girlfriend after a month of knowing each other, DeafBlind men getting hands on each other in the bathroom of a shitty nightclub, a trans woman with autism asking out a trans man with Down syndrome via her AAC tablet, a neurotypical guy with an obvious crush on his classmate with cerebral palsy.

I want to actually see disabled people being shown as desirable partners, good parents and grandparents, potential crushes, going through some new feelings and going on both good and bad dates, from all walks of life, of all sexualities and genders. Just like abled people.

Disabled characters participating in their community. Especially severely and/or visibly disabled characters. This is obviously a concept as vague as it could possibly be, but a big problem with a lot of disabled characters is that they don't... do anything. Not in the sense that they aren't "active enough", but that they aren't really... characters. They're often reduced to a family member who's at home and maybe the abled character takes care of them sometimes, but that's seemingly all that happens; they have no interests, hobbies, agency, preferences, or an internal thought process. All they do is wait for an abled savior to do something to them, not even with them.

I want to see more disabled characters who have jobs (whether it's a "regular" job, a supported employment workplace, a creative job that maybe they can only do a few hours a week, or self-care as a full-time job kind of thing), participating in hobbies that are accessible and/or modified to their ability level, emailing or sending pigeon letters to their friends, trying out new stuff that they're interested in, having actual complex relationships with their caregivers. Anything to actually make them feel like characters that exist in their setting, not just cardboard cutouts that the author had no ideas for.

Disabled characters who are a part of real-world disability (and adjacent) culture. Obviously also a vast topic. Most disabled characters, regardless of setting, are completely separated from concepts that were made by disabled people for disabled people; usually the connection to disability is their actual medical condition and a sterile mobility aid. This is not incorrect or bad to represent since that describes a lot of people, but I'd like to simply see more variety.

I want to see disabled characters who do parasports, who are excited about tactile art, went to blind/Deaf/SPED schools, call themselves #a babe with a mobility aid, decorate their AAC device, learn about disabled history, experience Feelings when hearing that Neanderthals cared about their disabled children, go to disability-centric events or support groups to meet people similar to them.

Do all disabled people do these? Absolutely not, but I'd like for even 1% of fictional characters to represent those who do.

Yeah I just want more disabled characters doing sports. As in real-life sports that real-life disabled people do, apologies to all the fantasy swordfighting that's out there.

There are so many sports out there we can do, some are adapted, some have a sitting or wheelchair version, while others were made specifically for us. Team sports are such a good opportunity to have your character have a community of people like them, have interesting dynamics, yet the only anything I can think of that's about it is REAL by Takehiko Inoue (wheelchair basketball) and the art by @/gayaest / @/sproutwiki (sitting volleyball). Also some Paralympics documentaries that I can count on a single hand - there's like three of them.

I want to see characters who are starting out and really suck at their sport, ones who are decent, ones with ridiculous sports-anime-level over the top abilities. I want to see all kinds of sports done by all kinds of disabled characters; blind kids learning goalball with their blind parents, quadriplegic guys working their ass off to qualify for national murderball championships, folks using sticker-covered bright-pink ramps in their boccia games, people with POTS playing along with their abled partner on their wheelchair rugby league team, standing fencers becoming disabled and adapting to wheelchair fencing that they love just as much. More disabled people having fun, knowing other disabled people, having interests!

Also, parasports are just cool as fuck and interesting to both watch and read about.

Disabled characters getting to make bad decisions. Disability representation is often extremely black-and-white in terms of morality: the character is either an angel who always does the right thing and talks about being grateful a lot, or the character is comically evil, wanting revenge because of their disability, hating their disability, constantly in grief and anger since not a single mildly ok thing happened to them since they became disabled. Neither of these feel like real people.

Disabled characters should be able to say hurtful things, get mad, lie, and whatever else, without being demonized to hell for it the same way abled characters are. They should be allowed to consciously make a decision that they shouldn't take (also known as "dignity of risk" in context of disability). They should get the same consequences for mistakes as everyone else and need to have the opportunities to actually make them.

In a much shorter way: more complex disabled characters.

These are things that I'd enjoy seeing for disabled characters. But the main thing would probably be that I want more of them. The scope of disabled characters in media is so painfully narrow because there's so few of them + they're usually capped at one per series. More writing featuring multiple disabled people please.

Here is a list of wishes from other mods who wanted me to throw them here:

Disabled characters who act like the author did more than a 10 min google search about their disabilities. [So authors doing actual research.]

More disabled characters of color. A lot of time disabled characters are white because it's only acceptable for them to be one kind of marginalized. In real life that's not how it works. People of color are disabled too!

Characters with comorbidities, characters with physical and mental health and developmental symptoms. Disability doesn't just come with one cut and dry disorder all the time - you can even be diagnosed with some things and undiagnosed with others.

[A character can have 5 comorbidities, or 5 completely unrelated disabilities - both happen. Or, most frequently, a bit of both.]

Characters existing in all parts of their diagnostic journey. [So characters who are yet to be diagnosed, currently investigating their symptoms, ones recently diagnosed, and ones who had their diagnosis for their whole lives - and as mentioned previously, you can be on one stage with disability A, and on another with disability B.]

Characters whose whole life isn't just tragedy/struggle! See this a lot when a story with disabled character is just about how life is hard for them as disabled person. Would love disabled characters being leads in other genres and just existing as people. Not to say disability isn't a struggle, but there is more to life and person than disability.

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anonymous #writing ideas #character inspo #writing advice #writing disabled characters

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mymindisneverhere · 1 month ago

Text

FAVORS (9)

Part Nine

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, SMUT, explicit language, lots of dialogue, (forgive me if I missed any)

heads up: 10.6k word count

Masterlist

*1 Year Later*

“30 minutes until we open the doors Ms. MacArthur.” The waitress announced, knocking on the door to get Khloé’s attention.

“Thank you Jess!” Khloé nodded and returned her attention back down to her hands.

Khloé stared at the framed document she held in her hands. A small smile on her face as she eyed the certificate that had her name signed in bold font.

St. Claire Culinary Institute

Associate of Arts

“Khloé Rose MacArthur”

She had done it. After all of those long nights spent studying, learning new techniques, preparing all sorts of dishes, she had finally received her Degree in Culinary Arts. A feeling of pride overcame her as she continued staring at her degree.

She hung it up right above her office desk that sat in the very back of the restaurant. With just a few more minutes until her grand opening, she was completely content sighing in satisfaction as she took a seat in the large office chair.

Khloé had dedicated one whole year to getting her life on track to where she wanted it to be. Enrolling into culinary school once again, her credits from the years before rolling over into a new semester helped her to get her degree as soon as she could. She joined her local yoga and pilates classes and spent time with the ones who understood her most, her father and her sister. Dedicating time and energy to the ones who poured into her the most had done her justice. This was just the reset she needed.

The night she cried herself to sleep was an awakening for her. Everything didn’t necessarily fall into place right away but she knew she didn’t want the rest of her life to go the way it had been going. She had been clear on what she wanted from here on out. A life full of no regrets and genuine happiness.

Although she had made it clear to her sister that she was done dating, Kandance still did what she could to convince Khloé to get back into dating again. Kandace respected Khloés commitment to achieving her goals but she knew how badly Khloé desired to be loved by the “perfect” man.

“I’m not interested in dating right now Kandace.”

“I’m focused on myself right now, I don’t have time for men.”

This was her response each time Kandace would bug her about her dating life. No matter how hard Kandace tried, Khloé didn’t budge. She was completely caught up in herself. Everyday she woke up, she made sure to do something that would get her closer to where she wanted to be and after twelve months of hard work and some financial help from her father she was preparing to open up her first place.

Khloé spent everyday searching for the right chefs, the perfect waiters and waitresses and the perfect hostess to help run her restaurant. After months of research she had finally crafted the perfect crew and she was ready to launch the grand opening of her place, “The Velvet Rose”.

“Everything is set and ready to go Ms. MacArthur.” Olivia stated, entering Khloés office.

Olivia had been the last person on her list to receive an apology that was well overdue. She had to admit to her that although she didn’t want to hear any of what Olivia had said to her when she came to her apartment just a year ago, she needed that wake up call. They sat and talked about the last few years they spent with each other and how they wanted the years to come to be.

Olivia listed her demands to Khloé stating that she no longer wanted to be treated as if she was beneath her. Olivia wanted to feel equal to Khloé not because of Khloés status but because of the relationship that they had with each other. She had been there for all of Khloés terrible breakups, bad business moves and constant arguments with her family. Olivia felt she deserved to be treated with respect and Khloé agreed without fuss. After everything was said and done, Khloé asked Olivia to be her restaurant manager and Olivia gladly accepted.

“Liv I told you, you don’t have to keep calling me that.” Khloé said. “You’re the manager, we’re a team.”

“I know, but it bothers you so I’ll keep doing it.” Olivia joked, sticking her tongue out before leaving the office.

Khloé rolled her eyes and stood from her seat. Turning to step in front of the full body mirror she kept against the office door, stared at her reflection in the mirror. The gold dress she wore was specifically picked by her to help go with the theme of her restaurant. Her hair was pressed straight and tucked behind her ears, giving her a simple yet elegant look. The blonde highlights her stylist suggested meshed well with her skin tone and her attire for the night.

She smiled at her reflection and took a deep breath before leaving her office and entered the dining area of the restaurant. The place was decorated with small tables near the entrance for the parties of two, large booths along the center wall for parties of four to six and a large table at the very back for even larger parties. Warm shades of gold and bright white filled the room as she walked through, inspecting each corner of the restaurant. The walls were covered in golden dim lights that gave the space a romantic and cozy feel.

Each table had a small candle in the center along with a few white roses in a vase, to further embrace the romantic ambience Khloé wanted to spread throughout the entire eatery. Large bouquets of white roses sat right at the entrance with a smaller version decorating the hostess podium. The place had Khloés luxurious taste written all over, topping it off with a live jazz band dressed in all white attire.

“Attention everyone!” Khloé announced, causing the crew to stop what they were doing and look her way.

The small group of waiters and waitresses stood in front of her dressed in white dress shirts, black ties and dress pants with small aprons around their waists. Two hostesses dressed in white dresses and pumps to match stood side by side awaiting her announcement.

The kitchen chefs, along with the head chef, made their way from the kitchen and stood together, dressed in their uniforms slightly similarly to the waiters with their names embroidered on their shirts.

Khloé eyed her team proudly as they stood awaiting further instruction. Everyone looked as if they belonged, like they were a team. The uniforms and the color coordinated outfits tied the whole place together and Khloé couldn’t be more excited to let the guests experience the food and the atmosphere.

“There will be a full house tonight so I expect everyone to get all of their nerves out now because once those doors open, it’s showtime.” Khloé spoke, her voice full of authority but laced with just a hint of grace. “I want to thank you guys for being here with me. You could’ve gone anywhere else to share your talents but you chose to be here and for that I am forever grateful.”

The team nodded as they smiled to each other, truly excited for their opening night.

“Now, let’s have a great first night!” With that, everyone dispersed, taking their places and preparing for the crowd.

Khloé walked to the front doors with Olivia and took in her surroundings, feeling a large sense of gratitude as she admired the first thing she could actually call hers.

“They’re lining up outside Ms. MacArthur.” Olivia announced, staring out of the window at the line of people that traveled a mile down the sidewalk.

“Let them in.” Khloé stated proudly.

Olivia pushed the large doors open and within minutes people were filling the seats, looking over the menu for the night and ordering drinks. The room was filled with light conversation, greetings and soft jazz setting the tone for a grown and sexy feel.

The smooth sounds of a saxophone rang out into the room from up front as guests entered. The dress code was elegant and formal. There weren’t necessarily restrictions on what could and could not be worn however the ambience set the perfect tone for the attire.

Khloé had invited the most important people she knew to her big night. Her sister, her father, her aunts and uncles, popular influencers in the city, well known food critics and the most successful business owners in the town.

Getting the word out about her place was her number one goal but sharing her night with the ones she cared for most was right after. She slowly walked around the place, greeting each guest and thanking them for coming. She made her way to one of the tables suited for large parties where her family had taken their seats, laughing and conversing with one another.

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur stood, placing a soft kiss on Khloé’s cheek and pulling her into a warm hug. “I am beyond proud of you, this place looks great.”

“Thank you daddy.” Khloé responded with a smile.

She spoke to the rest of her family, sharing laughs and small conversation until her eyes landed on an unfamiliar woman. Instantly spotting the resemblance, her breath caught in her throat as she eyed her.

“Khloé, this is my mother Katherine, mom this is my sister Khloé.” Kandace said.

“Oh my God.” Khloé gawked at the sight of the woman, practically sharing the same face as Kandace. Her beautiful bronze skin, her jet black hair and big beautiful smile just like her sister. “It is so nice to meet you.”

Katherine stood and hugged Khloé. “You as well Khloé, Kandace has told me so much about you. Congratulations honey!”

“Thank you.” Khloé said, placing a hand over her heart.

Khloé sat with her family expressing her gratitude and appreciation before getting up and visiting the guests once again, being sure to get their reviews on the food, the drinks and the service.

The night was going so smoothly. The room was filled with laughter, good music and amazing food. Olivia had suggested that Khloé should only serve a limited amount of items on the menu just to be sure that the wait wouldn’t be too long for the guests. Together they picked the special dishes that would give the guests some insight on what to expect from the restaurant's full menu once they had gone completely public.

From the looks of how things were flowing so effortlessly, that was the best idea for the night.

“Excuse me, if I could have everyone’s attention please.” Olivia’s voice echoed throughout the speakers as she held the microphone to her lips. “I’d like to bring the owner, Ms. Khloé MacArthur, up to the stage to say a few words.”

Everyone applauded as Khloé made her way to the front of the restaurant. The gold dress she wore shined under the soft lighting, accompanied by the beautiful honey blonde shade in her hair, she looked as if she was glowing. She carefully made her way up on the stage and grabbed the microphone from Olivia, clearing her throat before speaking.

“Good evening everyone and thank you all for coming to the grand opening of The Velvet Rose.” Applause filled the room as she smiled, slightly blushing from the attention she was getting.

“This has truly been a journey for me. If I'm honest this was probably the scariest thing that I’ve ever done in my life but it is the most gratifying. To see my vision, my dream come true in real time and to be able to share it with the most amazing people that I know is truly an honor for me. I hope you all enjoy the food, enjoy the drinks and the lovely music and again thank you so much for coming.”

With that Khloé returned the microphone to its stand and carefully walked down from the stage as the room erupted in applause once more. Before she could even make it to the floor Olivia had stopped her in her tracks.

“There’s a guest complaining about the valet parking outside, I think you may want to handle this.” Olivia spoke quickly, a bit of worry in her tone.

Khloé nodded and made her way to the front doors, pushing through them. Her head immediately snapped to the right where the parking lot was but the valet sat unbothered, not busy with anyone or any cars.

“I was hoping I could get a tour.“ The sound of his voice caused her heart to skip a beat. “That is if you have room for me on the guest list.”

She didn’t bother to turn around, she couldn’t turn around. Her feet were glued in place as she remembered the comfort that the voice had brought her so long ago. Her breathing began to increase as she mustered up the strength to turn and face him.

Finally swallowing the lump in her throat, she lifted her dress a bit and slowly turned around. They stood just a few feet away from each other but the impact of their presence was heavy for the both of them.

Terry stood there with a large bouquet of white roses in his hand. He was dressed in an all black tuxedo, a small chain hanging from his neck and a watch to match. His hair was freshly cut as was his goatee. He stood eyeing her with his bedroom eyes, noticing the expression in her face soften as she stared at him.

He walked to her, keeping his gaze on hers as he got closer to her. Each step he took, she thought her heart would beat out of her chest. Her eyes trailed down his body to his feet and back up to his face. He was still so damn fine, finer than he was when she left him in Summers' living room just a year prior.

“Hi.” Terry greeted, staring down at her.

“Hi.” Khloé stared up at him, instantly gaining all of the feeling she had neglected in the last year right in between her legs.

They sat in silence for a while before either one of them spoke again. Khloé was feeling too many things at once. She was already on a high from the opening of her restaurant and now standing in front of the only man she truly ever loved had her feeling like she was floating on a cloud.

“These are for you.” Terry smiled, handing her the roses.

“Thank you.” She smiled nervously, grabbing them before staring back up at him. “What are you doing here?” She instantly regretted asking that question, causing her to stumble over her words. She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t happy to see him but she was still very curious as to why he was there.

“I mean not like, in a bad way, like I don’t want you to be here, but-“ She took a deep breath, calming her nerves before finishing.” I just didn’t expect to see you tonight or…”

“Ever?” Terry asked, finishing her sentence for her.

Khloé looked down at her feet contemplating what she would say next. The past twelve months were solely for her, not a man, not a friend, not her family, not even her mother but her. Although she would constantly tell her sister she wasn’t thinking about a man or dating whatsoever, she would secretly pray that one day she would be with him again.

However Khloé refused to force their connection so she avoided going to the warehouse, she never visited that part of town for anything and she decided not to visit Summer again because there was no need to.

Two months turned into four and then four turned into eight and she still had yet to cross paths with him so she accepted that maybe he wasn’t the man for her after all. She wanted to believe in fate similar to fairytale stories she read as a child. Believing that no matter where in the world you went or what conflict had taken place between man and woman, if they were meant to be together fate would magically merge their paths.

Khloé hoped she would run into him at a grocery store or the bank, somewhere they didn’t plan on seeing each other but somehow ended up at the same place, at the same time. When time passed and she had yet to run into her dream guy again, her belief in the fairytale began to fade. So becoming focused on herself became even easier because she had no more energy left to manifest such a cliché interaction.

But here he was standing in front of her on the biggest night of her life. Not because she paid him to be there or because “fate” brought them together but because he simply chose to be there.

“I bumped into your sister as I was leaving the warehouse at the Garland location.” Terry started. “She told me about this grand opening being hosted by you and I immediately thought ‘Wow, she did it.’”

Khloé blushed a bit at that last part.

“So I wanted to come and congratulate you in person.”

“Thank you Terry.” Khloé smiled.

“You’re welcome Ms. MacArthur.”

She blushed once more at the sound of that name on his lips. When Olivia said it, it reminded her of the years she treated Olivia like she was less than. When Terry said it, it reminded her of comfort and certainty, something she didn’t realize she had missed until now.

The two sat in an awkward silence both unsure of what to say next. Khloé felt a bit silly for being so nervous in front of a man that had seen her in every way imaginable. The longer she sat the more she wondered what life had been like for him in the last year. She could clearly see a difference in him. His look was different, his normal stern expression had slightly faded and he was dressed in a tuxedo. It was clear to her that he had gone through some sort of transformation as well.

“Wait, why were you at the Garland location? What happened to Greenville?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“I just accepted a new role there.” Terry began. “I started about three months ago.”

Khloé’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? What position?”

“Senior Operations Manager.”

“Oh my God, that’s so good! I’m so happy for you!” She exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. Her excitement caused him to chuckle a bit. “But that's a far drive from where you live, you commute an hour and a half everyday?”

“I moved about fifteen minutes away from the job not too long after I took the role.”

“Oh wow.” Khloé said. She stared up at him in astonishment. Here she was getting her life together, evolving in every way she could and so was he. “So much has happened since we last saw each other.”

“I don’t know if it’s too late for me to say this but-“ Terry started, placing a hand to the back of his head to calm his nerves. “I really missed you Khloé.”

Khloé’s breath caught in her throat at the admission. “I missed you too.”

“The day you left Summers place, it was hard for me to keep busy. I wanted to talk to you everyday but I didn’t want to interrupt your process or interfere with the time you needed so I decided to be patient.” He said, placing his hands in his pockets. “To be honest I was scared someone else had come into your life and it was too late for us to try again.”

“I was just trying to become the woman that I needed to be for myself. I thought that if we were supposed to be together, that somehow fate would bring us together and we would.” Khloé spoke softly. “I wanted to see you too but I didn’t know if I would be forcing it or not so I just decided against it.”

Terry nodded, a small moment of silence falling between the two of them again. He looked over to stare at the bright sign above Khloé’s restaurant, a way to avoid the awkwardness that fell between them. Khloé stared down at the ground wondering if she had said the wrong thing. It wasn’t like she had given up on them but at the same time she kind of did.

“Goodnight Khloé, the food was bomb girl! I’m gonna tag you on Instagram!” A woman announced as she exited the restaurant, a to-go container in hand.

Guests were beginning to leave one by one, complementing Khloé and congratulating her as they made their way to the valet.

“Thank you guys so much, come back and see us!” She said, waving as the last few guests left, leaving only her family in the restaurant.

She turned her attention back to Terry and saw the discomfort in his face. The man who was once so damn good at hiding his feelings was doing a terrible job at this moment.

“If you have some time, I’d love to show you the place.” Khloé suggested. “I can have my chef cook something for you, I wanna know what you think of the food.”

Terry looked down at her and smiled before walking over to the large doors and pulling it open for Khloé to enter. “After you.”

They made their way into the restaurant and she led him to the back of the seating area, a small booth sat clean and empty and they took a seat on each side. Khloé looked up at Terry as he maneuvered into the booth. She watched him as he took in his surroundings.

“This is really nice Khloé.” Terry looked around the place, admiring the interior. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, it took a while but we’re here.” Khloé said, placing the large bouquet of roses in the seat right next to her.

“I’m really proud of you Khloé.” He said, his eyes finally landing on hers.

“Thank you.”

“Terrance.” Mr. MacArthur called out, walking over to the booth they occupied. “It’s good to see you again son.”

“Mr. MacArthur, good to see you as well sir.” Terry stood, shaking the older man’s hand.

Khloé looked on in confusion as Terry and her father fell into casual conversation, catching up for lost time. The moment it was brought to her fathers attention that Terry was a worker, her dad called her later that evening to give her some words about the entire ordeal. Ones that weren’t that nice. So to see him conversing with Terry as if he was no longer bothered by it threw her for a loop.

“Congratulations on the senior position.” Mr. MacArthur said.

“Thank you sir, I appreciate it.” Terry grinned humbly.

“Keep it up and you’ll be coming for my spot next.” The two men laughed as Khloé continued to watch in confusion.

“We’re gonna head out princess, you enjoy your first night in your place.” Her father said bending down to kiss her forehead. “I’m proud of you. Call me when you make it home.”

The rest of her family stopped by the booth to greet Terry and say their goodbyes before exiting, leaving Terry and Khloé alone.

“Here you are sir, The Rosewood Rack comes with a rosemary crusted rack of lamb, a side of truffle mashed potatoes and garlic sautéed broccolini.” The waitress by the name of Jessica announced, placing the warm plates in front of Terry as she read off the chef's special. “And a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon for you as well sir, enjoy.”

“Thank you.” Terry looked on with a slightly shocked expression on his face. “This entree describes you to a T.”

Khloé laughed as he dug into his food, taking small bites of each dish before giving her a review.

“This is delicious, honestly.” He said, not letting up from any of the food that sat in front of him. “I’m not even a lamb type of guy but this is good.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” She started, “I know how much you love a hearty meal so I wanted to make sure they prepared something that would satisfy you just right.”

Terry looked up at her as she said those last few words. The dim lighting, the candles, and the soft music that continued to play set the perfect mood for this moment after not seeing each other for a year. They jumped into long conversation, both informing the other about how life had been for the last twelve months.

Khloé began telling him about the aftermath that followed the dinner where the family secret was revealed. She went on to tell him about how her mother refused to take any accountability for what she had done to Katherine and that eventually she moved out of the family house.

Angela was convinced that everything she did was supposed to be done and there was no wrong in how she went about it. She was waiting for Khloé and John to come around begging for her forgiveness. However John was no longer interested in keeping up a facade for the sake of reputation. He had earned his living rightfully and there was nothing that would take away the love he had for his daughters or his business.

Khloé told Terry all about the time she spent in therapy, the long hours she spent studying and how much time went into securing her restaurant. She admitted to him that even during the times she was focusing on herself, her mind would always wander off to thoughts and memories of the two of them together. She wanted him to know that although she was truly working on herself, she still craved him in every way imaginable.

“Why not just come by the job?” Terry asked, genuine confusion written in his expression.

“I just kept feeling like I was forcing you to be with me and I didn’t want to do that. So I wanted to avoid you at all costs.” She admitted. “I had this weird belief that if we were meant to be then we’d cross each other's paths in a more authentic way.”

Terry nodded slowly, somewhat understanding her but not totally. While Khloé still believed in her fairytales, Terry was very much grounded in reality. Sometimes too grounded in reality, not allowing himself enough space to dream or remain optimistic about the possible relationship he could have with Khloé. He didn’t believe in living life on what ifs, he needed total security and if he didn’t have it then he would have to move on. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind always found its way back on Khloé.

Terry went on to tell her how moving up in the company was the best thing that had happened to him. The pay raise, the benefits and the business trips that came with the position, had him overwhelmed with gratitude. He let her know that at times he would become too busy, trying yet again to get rid of any memory he had of her. A simple attempt to protect himself from suffering a loss and not wanting to accept that she had completely moved on.

“But I’m not with anyone Terry, I did this for myself.” Khloé spoke honestly.

“I know but I guess I just thought that you’d either meet someone or you’d never want to be with anyone else ever again.” Terry said.

“Why did you think I wouldn’t want to be with anyone ever again?”

“Because the look on your face when you walked out on me, you didn’t look at me the same way you did before.” He stated. “It was like I could see a wall being built right at that moment. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get past it.”

Khloé stared at him and he stared back at her.

“You’ll always get past it.” She stated bluntly. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but everyone’s got a soft spot for someone. You happen to be my someone, just like I am for you.”

Terry’s eyebrows bent at the statement. He was determined to deny what she was saying because he didn’t think it was true whatsoever. Did he care for her deeply? Absolutely. But Terry could never allow himself to be soft for anyone.

“The way you tore into me back at my condo, the way you looked at me when I tried to touch you to prevent you from leaving, if you weren't soft for me you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d be done with me.” Khloé started, “But you’re not because you can’t be.”

Terry stared at her as she continued talking.

“For a while I thought Summer was your soft spot but I realized she’s not. She is a safe space for you but she’s not the person who gets to push your buttons and still be loved by you.” She watched as his expression softened a bit. “I’m not the only one who tries to play tough Mr. Richmond.”

It had been a minute since he had heard her say his name like that. The sound of his name leaving her lips made him feel some things he hadn’t felt in a while. Noticing the slight change in his breathing, Khloé smirked as she grabbed his wine glass and took a sip. She had done the work to heal but the seductress in her could never leave, she just did a better job at taming it. Truth is, she would always enjoy seeing the effect she had on men in real time.

“You don’t drink anyway, you don’t need this.” Khloé said, a bit of her bossy attitude showcasing itself in a quick moment.

He felt his dick jump as he continued staring at her, watching the glass leave her lips as she tilted her head slightly. The instant memories of those same lips damn near bringing him to his knees had his eyes stuck on them. He didn’t want to be the guy who just popped back into her life hoping to get some but he couldn’t deny the way she was making him feel. It felt like meeting her all over again, getting lost in her lips, forgetting they were in the middle of a conversation.

“Cat got your tongue Mr. Richmond?” She asked, smirking at him.

His eyes darted back up to hers before responding. “No ma’am.” He said, watching her shift in her seat. Going from poised to bothered in a split second. She wasn’t the only one picking up on the small cues that were happening beyond their will.

“You missed me that much?” He smirked.

Khloé placed the wine glass on the table and leaned forward, placing her forearms over one another as she locked her eyes onto his.

“You wanna stay here all night or do you wanna find out just how much?” Khloé asked, her gaze shifting between his eyes and his lips.

The sounds of heavy breathing and light moans filled the room as they kissed each other, tripping over their feet, making up for all the time they lost. They had raced to Terry’s apartment and wasted no time falling into their usual rhythm once they shut the door. Terry swiftly pulled off his suit jacket and returned back to Khloé’s lips, backing her further into the apartment.

Khloé wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to get a better feel of his tongue on hers. Moaning into his mouth she stepped back as they continued tussling with each other's lips.

“Take this off.” Terry murmured in between kisses, yanking at Khloé’s dress.

“Unzip it.” She said, finally breaking their kiss and turning her back to him.

He quickly pulled the zipper down the back of her dress and watched it fall to the ground. Stepping out of it, she turned to him, dressed in only her underwear. Khloé wasn’t a shy woman but she was feeling herself shrink under his gaze once her body was exposed. However Terry’s usual stoic stare had shifted into desire as he studied her body, the one he hadn’t touched in so long.

She had gained a little weight but for Terry it had been in all the right places. Her hips were a bit wider and her thighs were thicker, the way her panties sat right at the base of her hips brought out every curve in her body. He was feening for her in the worst way and she didn’t even know how bad.

“Fuck I missed you.” He spat, crossing the room quickly. In one swift motion, he picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

She pressed her lips against his, kissing and sucking on his tongue as he walked her into his bedroom. The view of the busy freeway provided a hint of light in the room as he laid her on the bed.

Reaching down to lift the long sleeve turtle neck he wore above his head, Khloé sat up and watched him as he came out of the sweater. Her eyes roamed over his torso, the sight of him alone had her growing wetter by the second.

‘Did he get bigger?’ She thought to herself, noticing the increase of muscle in his arms and strong definition in his chest.

He leaned down to kiss her once more, lightly pushing her onto her back. He placed kisses along her neck, the sounds of her moaning in his ear causing him to moan as well. Terry was moving fast, his hunger for her taking over as he roughly sucked on her neck.

“Terry wait.” She said as she let out a breath, placing her hands on his chest signaling for him to sit up.

“What’s wrong?” He looked down at her frowning, trying hard to read her expression.

“Nothing, it’s just,” She started, eyes darting around the room before landing on his. “I’m a bit nervous.”

Terry chuckled lightly, finding it hard to believe that the woman who enjoyed tying him up and draining him dry had become so nervous all of sudden. “I’ve already seen every part of you, what’s making you so nervous now?”

She took a deep breath and paused for a bit before finally saying the words, “I love you.”

The admission caught Terry off guard. He could sense her anxiousness as she stared up at him. The Khloé he was used to was fearless, there wasn’t anything that came out of her mouth with hesitation. The Khloe he knew didn’t stumble over her words or have a hard time finding them either. But this new Khloé was very different. Still her usual bossy self but a bit more cautious with her words and her tone of voice.

He could tell she was desperately waiting for his response as her eyes pieced into his. Her eyebrows bent slightly as she began to grow impatient.

“I love you too.” He finally responded, a heavy weight lifting off of his shoulders after holding onto that truth for so long.

Khloé’s eyes softened, her features relaxing and returning back to normal as she let out the breath she had been holding. She continued staring up at him without saying a word. There was a genuineness behind the words that left his lips. It didn’t feel like he was saying it just to lessen her worry or try to continue on with having sex with her. She could sense his relief as he spoke those same words back to her.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked softly.

“No!” She answered a bit too quickly. “I don’t want you to just fuck me though. I guess I want…” She trailed off.

“Me to make love to you.” He finished.

She nodded her head. Placing a soft kiss on her lips, he slowly lifted off of the bed and held his hand out for her to take. She grabbed it and stood in front him. Turning her around, she faced the large window and closed her eyes, preparing to actually be handled with care for the first time.

Terry moved her hair to the side away from her neck and placed soft kisses along her shoulder. Each kiss was placed with purpose and intention. Her breath hitched as she felt his lips on her, the slow movement making her grow anxious with every touch. He made his way up to her neck and noticed her breathing stop. He knew she was nervous but he wanted to reassure her that there was no reason to be.

“Relax.” He suggested, his voice deep yet soft in her ear. “I got you.”

Letting out the breath she had been holding in, she slowly dropped her shoulders. She unclenched her jaw and closed her eyes, letting her head fall slowly against his chest. The feeling of his lips were slowly chipping at her nerves, eventually clearing them altogether.

He ran his hands across her stomach, pulling her deeper into him. The warmth of her body against his chest, the way she ran her fingers against his arms, felt serene for him. Still placing kisses against her shoulder, he dropped his hand into the crotch of her panties and dipped his finger in between her folds. She was so wet for him, she had been since they agreed to leave the restaurant and head to his place.

He ran his free hand up her torso and played with her nipple, rolling it in between his thumb and index finger. Khloés body pressed against his even more as she squirmed in his arms. He moaned in her ear, feeling her hips rub against his bulge.

“Terry…” She moaned above a whisper, feeling him play with her sensitive clit and nipples caused her to close her eyes.

“You want me to stop?” He asked, the question was obviously rhetorical but he loved to hear the eagerness in her voice.

“No.” She breathed out.

Terry continued kissing along his shoulders up her neck and stopped at her jaw. Her head moved effortlessly as he trailed up her neck, so caught up in the pleasure, she was almost melting into his arms.

He didn’t want her to cum just yet but he made sure to build her up just enough so that when he finally entered her, she’d be dripping like a faucet.

“Tell me how you want it.” He remembered how much she loved to be in charge, one of the many things he adored most about her. Increasing his speed purposely so she’d struggle as she answered the question.

“Ummm.” She moaned, eyes still rolling into her head as he pinched her nipples tightly, still working her clit over.

“Tell me baby.”

“S-stomach.”

He chuckled lightly at her stutter, feeling himself while he had her somewhat at his mercy. Finally pulling his fingers from her lower set, he pushed them into her mouth and watched as she sucked them, moaning from the taste of herself.

“You ready?”

Khloé nodded her head, still resting her weight against him. Turning them both so that they were facing the bed, he pushed her panties down to her ankles.

“Lay down.” He instructed.

She licked her lips and crawled onto the bed, laying flat on her stomach and resting on her elbows. He removed the thin fabric from around her ankles and tossed them before undoing his pants. Getting completely undressed, he crawled onto the bed, stopping to place kisses on the back of her thighs, up her ass and continued up her back. She bit her lip as she felt him against her skin, each kiss causing a soft moan to escape her lips.

Finally reaching the side of her face, he placed kisses along her jaw as he ran his dick against her wet entrance.

“Can you go slow please?” She asked softly, “It’s been a while for me.” She turned her head to meet his eyes, their faces just a few inches from each other.

“Yes ma’am.” He responded.

He ran his dick through her folds once more before pausing at her entrance. His eyes were glued to hers, not wanting to miss any of the expressions on her face no matter how big or small. Carefully pushing himself just a few inches into her, he watched as her jaw dropped, the sounds or her gasping loudly made him clench his jaw. He loved the faces she made whenever they had sex, they were so damn beautiful.

“Can I move?” He asked.

“Yes!” She moaned, a bit more aggressive than she intended.

Terry pushed himself all the way into her, pressing his hips flat against her ass. Both of his hands rested next to her elbows as he held himself up. He dropped his head onto hers taking in how tight she was, afraid he wouldn’t last as long as he planned to. She cooed as she felt all of him at once, inhaling deeply as he held himself in place.

Lowering himself onto his elbows, he wrapped his arms around hers and intertwined their fingers. He rolled his hips slowly, giving her long strokes, as he dropped his chin into the crook of her neck.

Khloé’s eyes rolled as her brows lifted, the side of her face was pressed against his, feeling his lips brush against her jaw. She was in total bliss feeling him for the first time in a long time. The way he thrusted in and out of her sent small shocks throughout her body every time he rubbed up against her spot. She moaned loudly, tightening the grip she had on his hands. He maintained his slow and steady strokes, kissing her cheek as he tried to keep himself from cumming too soon.

“I missed you so much.” She cried, dragging her words as her jaw continued to fall open.

“I missed you too baby.” He replied.

She continued to repeat herself over again, unable to mutter any new words due to the feeling of ecstasy invading her body. Her voice was doing a number on him, causing him to thrust into her even harder, increasing the pressure with each stroke. The harder he dug into her, the more vocal she became and this wasn’t helping him one bit. Cursing to himself, he pulled out of her, quickly stopping himself before he came too early.

“Fuck.” He spat.

Grabbing her hips, he flipped her on her back and smashed his lips into hers. She ran her hands down his face as they fell back into their usual rhythm with their tongues. Without warning, Terry pushed into her, every inch filling her suddenly until he couldn’t push any further. She could feel the pressure deep within the pit of her stomach, he was so big.

Khloé moaned into his mouth, eventually giving up on the kiss because multitasking wouldn’t be easy for her to do at the moment. Pulling out of her with only his tip inside, he returned to giving her long strokes, this time a bit faster than before.

He lifted one of her legs onto his shoulders and left the other on the bed. His eyes were locked onto hers as he dug into her, watching as they began to roll into her head. He took her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking it gently before he pulled back.

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and focused them back on his. He stared down at her intently, studying her eyes with every stroke he gave her. Her eyebrows curled inward from the feeling brewing in the lower part of her stomach. The look in his eyes translated the emotion she had been dying to see in them since she first met him. His usual stoic expression had completely vanished.

Terry looked at her with pure adoration and genuine love expressed in his hazel eyes. Every bit of his movement had intention, he wanted to be sure that she could feel his love for her as he pleased her for the first time in over a year.

The way he rocked his hips into hers caused her to push up the bed slightly. He grabbed onto her hips and held her in place, still digging deep into her. She gasped, letting her eyelids fall low, desperately waiting for the orgasm to take over her body.

“Don’t close ‘em, look at me.” He demanded softly, his voice just above a whisper.

“I-“ Khloé started, opening her eyes once again. Her eyebrows lifted a bit as they stared at each other.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, still thrusting into her. He was aware of the effect his dick was having on her, he just wanted to hear her say it.

“It feels so good.” She whined.

Khloé had always enjoyed sex, particularly being fucked but she had yet to experience sex that included passion and intimacy. She was feeling so many things at once. Not only the feeling in between her legs that traveled to the pit of her belly but also the affection behind it. There was no competition to see who would make who fold first. The only goal was to translate the feelings he had for her through this moment they had both been secretly waiting for.

“You love me?” Terry asked, placing a soft kiss at the corner of her lips.

“Yes!”

“I can’t handle you leaving me again.” He said honestly.

“I won’t leave!” She cried.

“Tell me you’re stayin’!” He could feel her getting wetter the more he spoke to her. It was only a matter of time before she would be cumming all over him and that was exactly what he wanted.

“I’ll stay!” She moaned loudly.

He kept placing kisses against her cheeks before dropping his head to the side of her face, pressing his lips against her ear. “You promise?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” She yelled, digging her manicured fingernails into his back. She clawed at him, attempting to pull him in closer as she came, her nails leaving small marks against his skin. “I’m cummin’!”

She held onto each him tightly, moaning and cursing loudly. Khloé’s legs shook around his waist while he continued stroking, making sure to get all of her. The sloshy sounds of her cumming on his dick had him pressing even harder into her.

“Fuck, yessss!” She cried, marking his back up while she came.

“I love you.” He said into her ear, finally pausing his movements to allow her body to carry out the rest of her climax.

Her breath hitched as she embraced every emotion all at once. Still keeping her nails in his back she stared up at the ceiling as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Terry sat up and placed kisses against her cheek, noticing the tear that fell from the corner of her eye.

“Say it.” Terry commanded.

“I-I love you t-too.” She spoke in between breaths, body still feeling the effects of her orgasm.

Terry kissed her softly along her jaw and neck until her body had completely returned to its relaxed state. Khloé finally looked up at him with heavy eyes. Usually she’d be the one causing a K.O. with her partners but it was her turn to receive all of that pleasure and more… and she did just that.

Khloé’s head rested against Terry’s chest as the two of them laid together. He held onto her, arms wrapped firmly around her waist as she ran her thumb against the thin hairs on his chest. They laid like this in silence, soaking up the presence of one another, not wanting to let go of the other anytime soon.

“Can I ask you something?” Khloé said, breaking the silence.

“Of course.”

“Does this mean we’re officially together or was this just a spur of the moment? You know, because we hadn’t seen each other in a while?” She was somewhat nervous about the answer.

Although Terry didn’t seem like the type to just hit it and go on like nothing happened, she still needed to know where they stood with each other.

“I meant what I said.” Terry started. “I can’t handle not being with you. Your presence alone fills me up. I want to know what’s going on with you at all times. I want to know when you’re upset, when you’re happy, when you’re scared, when you’re confused. I don’t wanna be without you again.”

Khloé sat listening to him go on about how much she meant to him, every word securing her in the role she played in his life. She felt herself smiling against his chest, happy to hear that she was as important to him as he was to her.

“Well you can’t get angry with me and shut me out for weeks at a time, I wanna know what you’re thinking too.” She spoke honestly. “Even if you’re not in the mood to talk, at least telling me that will make me feel better. I don’t wanna feel shut out by you again.”

“I got you. However, you also have to talk to me Khloé. You can’t just make assumptions about how I’m feeling and let your emotions make decisions for you.” He said, rubbing his hand against her hips.

“It won’t happen again.” She said in a soft voice.

“But above all, you’re mine and I’m yours, anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

She sat up and rested on her chin as she looked at him “You promise?”

“I promise.” He responded with a kiss on her forehead.

“Good, I’m ready for round two. It’s my turn.” She said, cutting straight to the chase. She lifted up from his hold and straddled his waist, preparing to ride him until the sun came up.

Terry chuckled to himself appreciating the fact that after all this time, her sex drive never wavered.

“Yes ma’am.”

Terry sat in his office, wrapping up his last zoom meeting before heading home for the day. The end of the months were always the busiest for him. Business calls, payroll, month end stats and having to prepare for the beginning of a new month. The only thing on his mind was having a nice meal after handling so much within eight hours of his work day.

*Knock Knock*

“Come in.” He announced without looking up.

“Are you busy Mr. Richmond?” The familiar voice spoke, causing him to let out a quiet sigh of annoyance before responding. His name on her tongue just didn’t hit the same as it would when Khloé said it.

“Yes I am, do you need something Nia?” He asked dryly, raising his brows as he looked up at her.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner tonight?” She asked, walking further into his office. “My treat.”

Nia had completely taken over Khloés job at the warehouse but not because she genuinely loved the family business. She wanted the man that came with it of course. There was never a day that went by that Nia wouldn’t find a reason to speak with Terry, even if it was something as small as the weather for the day.

“The answer is still no Nia, but thank you.” He said, turning his attention to his computer.

“Why do you play so damn hard to get?” Nia spat. She walked closer to his desk, leaning over the folders that laid across the top of it. “I know you like ‘em feisty, I know you like ‘em pushy and I know you like ‘em to be dominant. That's why you were with Khloé except she’s a fraud and I’m not. So what is it? You afraid of a real woman, Mr. Richmond?”

Terry kept his eyes on his computer not bothering to further entertain Nia and her constant attempts at getting with him.

“You tired ass bitch!” The voice shot through the room, causing Nia to spin around and Terry to snap his head in the direction it came from.

Terry looked down at his watch, panicking once he realized he was supposed to meet Khloé outside so they could head to dinner together. He stood from his desk and quickly walked over to her.

“I’m sorry baby, I had all of those meetings and I lost track of time.” He said, placing a kiss on her cheek.

Khloé’s eyes never left Nia as Terry tried to pull her in for another kiss.

“Give us a minute.” She spoke dryly, ignoring Terry’s attempt.

“But this is my office.” He said, jerking his head back a bit in confusion.

Khloé looked up at him, the expression alone sending him the message loud and clear. Terry threw his hands up in defeat as he walked over to grab his cell phone and keys from the top drawer in his desk.

“I’ll be outside.”

Khloé stood there, LV hanging from her fingertips as she stared at Nia, disdain written on both of their faces. This was a standoff that had been well overdue. Between Nia's backhanded attempts to ruin her relationship with her mother and her relation with Terry, Khloé had waited for the right moment to deal with Nia face to face.

As pathetic as Nia was, she remained persistent. Ruining Khloé’s relationship and spilling her business at the dinner table wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to put the nail in the coffin and Terry was her way to do it. The only problem was, he never paid her any attention unless it was strictly work related. After all of those failed attempts here she stood face to face with her competition who wasn’t even aware that they were competing with one another.

“I could’ve sworn you were done faking your relationship with him, you’re still that desperate Khlo?” Nia smirked, fiddling with the papers on Terry’s desk.

“Not as desperate as you. How many times have you asked him to dinner just to be rejected every time?” Khloé asked, tilting her head to the side.

Nia scoffed, rolling her eyes as she looked to the side.

“Look Nia, I’m not about to waste too much time on you cause you’re not worth it, even your own parents didn’t bother to waste a moment with you that’s why you’re so busy trying to steal mine.” Khloé shot, watching Nias nostrils flare from the comment.

“Bitch you’ve got your nerve, did you forget I witnessed the fallout between you and your mother?” Nia shot back.

“Yes I am aware, but at least she cared enough about me to at least be in my life. Where is yours?” Khloé asked, smiling slightly knowing she had hit a nerve.

Nia stood silently, clenching her jaw as she tried to think of a rebuttal.

“Exactly.” Khloé chuckled. “Now let me make something very clear to you, Terry and I are together, in real life. Not because I’m paying him but because he actually wants to be with me, but I’m sure you’re not familiar with that feeling. You know, actually being wanted.”

Khloé went on. “But even if we weren’t together, you still couldn’t have him or any other man because you’re just not that girl. Hence why you’re begging to pay for his food everyday. So whatever you thought you were about to come in here and do, give it up.”

Nia's blood was boiling as she stared Khloé down. The way Khloé stood there so carelessly, so unbothered by her presence had pissed Nia off to the point of no return. But there was nothing she could do about it because none of what Khloé said was false.

Completely aware of Nia's anger, Khloé dug into her purse and grabbed her MAC Ruby Woo lipstick and her compact mirror. She applied the color effortlessly, seeing as though this had been her signature look for years.

“Now, what I advise you to do is continue doing my old job and focus on figuring out why no one wants you.” Khloé said, popping her lips as she applied the final layer of the lipstick. “Try therapy or Jesus.”

Nias' lip twitched as she sat mugging Khloé, watching as she turned to leave Terry’s office.

“Oh and do me a favor Imani?” Khloé began, turning to face Nia one last time. “Stop trying to be me so bad, because you can’t bitch.”

With that Khloé walked out of the office, heading to her car where Terry stood waiting for her. Spotting her just a few feet away, he lifted his weight off of the car and opened the passenger door for Khloé to get in.

“Everything good?” He asked, staring down at her as she strutted to the car.

“Of course.” She placed a kiss on his lips and stepped into the passenger seat. “Let’s go.”

The two of them made their way around the city, finally stopping at The Velvet Rose. Khloé suggested that they try some new restaurants downtown but Terry insisted on eating at her place. He honestly enjoyed the scenery, the ambience and the food. It was the perfect place for him to end a stressful workday with the woman he loved.

“Pablo, do you mind if I step in here and prepare a meal for Terry and I? You can call it a night if you want, I’ll close the kitchen for you.” Khloé asked her head chef.

“No ma’am, I don’t mind at all. ” He responded, moving around the kitchen to remove his apron and chef hat to grant her privacy as she prepared dinner.

“Thank you Chef!”

Terry sat back with his back pressed against the booth, tapping his leg to the rhythm of the music. Jazz was one of his favorite genres, the soft melodies, the smooth sounds of the instruments blended together always did the perfect job at helping him decompress after a stressful situation.

After about thirty minutes in the kitchen, Khloé walked over to him with two plates in her hands. Finally reaching him, she placed the food down carefully before taking a seat in the booth beside him.

“Why didn’t you have one of your waitresses bring the food out?” Terry asked, sitting up straight as he grabbed the silverware from the table.

“I wanted to bring it.” She said, “Plus I cooked it so it’s only right that I bring it to you.”

Khloé and Terry dug into their food as they engaged in deep conversation. Conversing about their future together, their individual goals and how they planned to spend the rest of their days. They spoke about their living situations and how neither of them were ready to completely move in together but loved the thought of being able to visit one another whenever they chose.

Khloé had made it clear that she didn’t want to move in until she had a ring on her finger and Terry noted that for the future. She placed her fork down on her plate and looked over at as he devoured his food.

“This may sound childish but the anniversary of the first date we went on is coming up soon.” Khloé smiled as she looked down at the food on her plate.

“Why would that sound childish?” Terry asked.

“I don’t know, I just assume only women should care about things like that.”

“We should celebrate.” Terry said, taking a bite of steak. “Maybe go on our first vacation together.”

Khloé looked up at him and a light bulb instantly went off in her head. “I wanna go to Japan. I’ve always wanted to go since Kandace went but I was afraid to go alone. What do you think?”

“I think that’s the perfect place to go.”

The two immediately started planning for their trip out of the country. They discussed dates, flights, resort options and everything in between. Khloé was mostly excited about the trip, eagerly naming all of the cities she’d love to visit, Tokyo being at the top of her list. Terry pressed his back against the booth and looked at her, smolin to himself as she ranted about all of the things they could do together once they landed.

Her excitement warmed his heart, seeing that she still lit up when she spoke to him about her dreams and plans for the future. Terry was so caught in his trance he hadn’t noticed that she stopped talking and was now staring back at him.

“Why are you just staring at me?” Khloé asked shyly.

Terry shook his head and placed the napkin from his lap onto the table. “I just missed this, that's all. I guess I’m just soaking up the moment as much as I can.”

“I told you I’m not leaving again, we have plenty of more moments to come.” Khloé said. “Besides I’m just rambling like usual.”

Terry wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, placing his lips against her temple. “I know but every moment is special to me, no matter how small it is. I like hearing you ramble.”

Khloé stared up at him and smiled, feeling herself slowly melt into the seat beside him. They sat in each other's embrace

The band began playing an instrumental version of For You by Kenny Latimore, the soft sounds of the saxophone and piano filled the space as they continued to stare at each other.

“Dance with me, handsome.” Khloé suggested.

“Yes ma’am.”

Terry grabbed her hand and walked her to the stage where the band sat. Lifting her arms above his shoulders, he rested his hands at her waist and they began to sway to the music. Khloé leaned her head forward and placed it against his shoulder, pressing her forehead into the crook of his neck.

Khloé let herself sink into his arms placing most of her weight against him as they held onto one another. The band continued to play their own renditions of popular love songs, each musician playing their instrument with precision. Khloé closed her eyes as Terry rocked them softly side to side. She focused on the vibration of Terry’s voice rumbling against her temple, humming the melodies of the songs the band played.

After years of chasing external love and validation, she had finally come to realize that the love she searched for was already within her. Centering herself for the first time in her life had brought her the ability to actually feel the love she had for herself in totality. Now that she was able to identify and operate in her own essence, she was able to manifest that same love into the man that held onto her as she stood in her very own restaurant.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she stared into his eyes.

“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” He asked, slightly smiling down at her.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.” He responded, eyebrows slightly lifted, prepared for her command.

“Love me until we meet in the next lifetime.” She stated, eyes darting back and forth between his.

He chuckled and placed a kiss on her lips before responding. “Yes ma’am.”

That concludes FAVORS

Thank you guys so much for reading, I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just started writing for the first time back in August and this was my very first series so I was a little rusty but we pushed through 🤞🏾 I love y’all down! 🩵😭

Now let me finish this one-shot I got for my baby Kelvin…

HAPPY NEW YEAR SISTERWIVES!! 🥳

#aaron pierre #terry richmond fic #terry richmond #aaron pierre fanfiction #aaron pierre x black fem reader #rebel ridge #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre fic #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black!oc

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astrow1zar6 · 2 days ago

Text

Astro Observations~ 48

Venus square Pluto men tend to have a really weird relationship with women. Can have a big love-hate relationship when it comes to women. I’ve seen these men treat their guy friends with more respect than their partners

Leo sun x Pisces sun mix in friendship is so underrated. They really match eachothers creativity & can inspire eachother a lot art wise

Jupiter in the 1st house makes someone very jolly naturally. Even if they are in a bad mood it rarely shows. Can also make someone pretty tall in a lot of cases (not all)

Cap risings can have very visible bones. Could’ve been told by others to “eat a sandwich “

You can feel more likely to create art or sing when the moon transit is in Pisces (even if you’re not the type to want to do that stuff on the regular).

Venus in the 8th house natives are very into hookup culture. Gets into a lot of unconventional relationships. Not really the types that wanna be “wifed up” I’ve noticed. They just here for a good time fr.

Pisces sun Aries moons are great manifestors (especially with an earth rising to stabilize the energy) with a cap rising for example I can imagine these people to be unstoppable when they have a goal.

Mars in Taurus’s usually prefer slower sex to fast sex. (Unless it’s in the 8th house) they are super sensual and want to enjoy every pleasure to the max. Going too fast can piss them off/leave them unsatisfied.

Venus in 2nd house synastry can have very long make out sessions together. Even if you aren’t comfortable with kissing this aspect will make you want to kiss them for HOURS.

Saturn in the 8th house people on the other hand kinda lack sensuality a lot of the time. They can skip foreplay and go straight to the act. Very “cold” sexual experiences.

Juno in the 1st house people are the best people to marry. Can attract some pretty selfish partners tho unfortunately:(

When a Gemini Venus has a crush on someone it’s like painfully obvious. Everyone usually already knows.

Jupiter in the 8th gives big 🍆 energy

Uranus in the 5th house are rarely ever fully single. The types to go on a lot of dates or dates someone outta nowhere or unexpectedly

Saturn in the 5th house have a natural awkwardness around their crushes

Venus in Libras pull game is so strong, they have so many admirers & ppl who have crushes on them

Having a Venus in retrograde in a detriment sign (Aries/scorpio) can make you come off as really rude to others or super vain

I also notice if not severely afflicted Venus in retrograde natives actually have a higher chance of marrying their soulmates than direct Venus natives

Taurus moons either have very a sloppy basic asf sense of fashion or its super chic & creative as hell no in between.

Lilith dominant women are usually treated like shit by other women a lot. Men can see them as someone they just wanna hook up with. It’s actually really sad what these people go thru.

Most fucked up friendship award goes to Pluto in the 11th house folks. Friends could’ve been really jealous of you or your relationship with other friends. Ur friends could also lack extreme boundaries with you and almost act more like a toxic partner. Friends get super obsessed & possessive of you!

Sun in the 9th house people have a gift usually for learning new languages. Could be the types to speak multiple languages.

Pisces mars can be super lazy. Could be the types to ask you to grab the the remote when it’s right next to them

Jupiter in the 4th house prevents you from being homeless. Regardless of your income you always tend to find a really spacious cute home.

People with a 10th house stellium are more likely to “fall in love” with their career. They are also really love $$.

Sun in the (1st, 5th & 11th) house people usually thrive in big social settings.

Sun in the 2nd house could be the breadwinners of the family. Could’ve been the first to break a poverty generational curse. Usually seen as the ones who “made it out the hood” iyk what I mean.

Venus in 2nd house natives face cards are LETHAL

#astro observations #astrologist #astrology #astro community #astro notes #astroblr

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olderthannetfic · 2 months ago

Note

/olderthannetfic/769334704445997057/another-fandometrics-year-in-review-another-bevy

I am - genuinely - very sympathetic to the frustrations of solely f/f shippers and I DO think some people are a little too quick to shrug off the lack of f/f in fandom spaces with “lack of representation in media what can you do” when fandom is all about assigning personalities and backstories to one-line characters. HOWEVER. As someone who likes all kinds of ships, the experiences I have had across many MANY fandoms with solely f/f shippers treating people who also liked the main m/m ship as traitors and bad feminists, not to mention the number of people who have told me, a trans man, that I HAVE to write more f/f and less m/m For The Sisterhood, has made me LESS likely to engage in f/f, not more. Some of y’all are your own worst enemy when it comes to this stuff I swear. (Hashtag not all femslashers, hashtag some of my best friends are femslashers, etc)

Demands that people defend and explain perfectly commonplace things always end up generating dumber and dumber explanations.

I agree that that explanation by itself is kind of weak, but "Why are you asking only about AO3?" (as people often are) plus representation problems plus the other commonly cited reasons add up to a perfectly sufficient explanation. People just don't like what they're hearing.

The kind of f/f fandom people are often looking for—a by cis wlw, for cis wlw one—is not that different in size from the by cis mlm, for cis mlm one. They are both small.

Yes, I know they pretend that's not what they mean. They are lying. Possibly to themselves. Just look at the bawwwwing over the idea that cis men liking f/f could add to the amount of f/f art or the audience for the same.

Many AO3 slashers are better compared to transbian catgirls making lesbian furry porn or cis dudes horny for Buffy/Faith or something. There are plenty of people who care about f/f. They're just not necessarily the ~right~ people in the right spaces making the right art to count in some wanker's statistics.

Part of the reason our explanations and discussions always sound so bonkers is that we constantly compare apples to oranges.

And while we're at it, let's talk about that hoary old ~one-line character~ thing.

The reality is that we like to talk about how we elevate random walk-on characters, but the vast majority of shippy AO3 fanfic is about fairly major characters. Clint/Coulson was bizarrely popular in 2012. It has been twelve years. It is time to get over it.

On top of most things focusing on leads, the focus is often on characters who are given a lot of interiority. The audience is invited to be in their head and care about their feelings. People aren't usually good at analyzing film, so they use more familiar metrics involving text: how many lines do they have in the script? How many minutes does that translate to on screen? They don't know how to quantify a character being treated as an object to be looked at beyond "Booty shorts bad". But it's not general sex appeal or amount of skin on display that matters here.

As audiences, we respond to film grammar and "Just happen to like" or not like some character as a result of it, but we aren't aware of the mechanics, so we can't explain why beyond vague spluttering and "How dare you! Everyone should think this because it's the natural response!"

In general, media with multiple central women who have intense relationships with each other and who are conventionally attractive generate plenty of interest in f/f. Media with one hot girl who has the camera trained on her ass all the time while the men do everything interesting usually don't.

It's a no brainer and the harebrained explanations come from trying to look deeper to find the secret conspiracy where there is none.

The biggest mistake of most of this dumb discourse is "But I see all these queer women here. Why isn't there more f/f?"

This presupposes some default "normal" level of f/f without any actual justification for why that would be expected. You see the same nonsense from people going "Why is there so much m/m?"

What's the default? 10% because of the fake statistic that 10% of people are gay? 75% because action movies are sausagefests and all the important relationships are between men? What's the "normal" level of femslash? 25% because f/f, f/m, m/m, and gen are all equally valid? 80% because lots of fanfic writers are women?

Chasing one precise number is a fool's errand, but building a whole theory on the idea that there's an implicit number without even digging into that assumption is more foolish still.

When you look at the fanfic (or art!) spaces that are full of dudes, they often look like a bit of a mirror of AO3. Lots of het still. Lots of f/f. Lots of lady blorbos people are obsessed with. Limited m/m. Depending on the space, there might be a lot more gen. It's not perfectly 1:1, but then AO3 isn't precisely like other chick-heavy fanfic spaces anyway.

In my experience, the thing that makes a blorbo take off is that they're fairly major in canon, often driving the narrative even if they aren't the main protagonist, and they show up early.

In the cases where they weren't there at the very beginning, them showing up was the catalyst for fans who like this type of character to get into the canon at all. It's not just Castiel: you see it with Methos from Highlander and plenty of others. It's usually in a context where that fandom didn't have that much established for this type of fan. There wasn't a second dude to pair the lead with or the ship turned some people off or something. Highlander, for example, had fucktons of het shippers, both of canon het and of various OFCs and canon dudes. It was the slashers who stampeded over there when friends told them there was new ship potential for m/m. SPN... Sam/Dean was very popular on LJ, but I think it's obvious why a viable non-brother ship was of interest to people. I watched tons of people get pimped into Teen Wolf for Sterek. Of course they ended up liking it and not really caring about other ships: they were pre-selected to like that specific vibe. (And they are all wrong because Scott is the best and Derek has weird teeth.) The same thing happens with f/f. People get into media all the time because they're promised such-and-such a ship dynamic.

Wynonna Earp had plenty of people who were there for the women because the women are who matter for the most part. People were super into the canon f/f because it's hot and because it didn't seem like they were just going to get hit by a bus and shooed out of the narrative.

How many things that everybody and their sister saw have that many main women who matter? Some, definitely, but they're outnumbered by the sausagefests and by the things with very central het. Not everything with a huge audience gets a big fanfic fandom, but most things with big fanfic fandoms do have a big audience. You need critical mass to make a fandom happen.

Something like MCU has a variety of tasty shipping options, but the characters it spent all its time on first were the small selection of guys fandom cares the most about. When other characters were established very early, they also had an early spurt of fandom. I can't be the only one who remembers Pepperony fandom on LJ. It wasn't just people tagging canon ships in the background: Pepper/Tony shippers were a whole thing.

Yes, there are exceptions, but we make a big deal of them while ignoring the overall pattern.

Again, it is time to get over Clint/Coulson, Arthur/Eames, and people hallucinating that Hux had a personality in that first movie.

These are rare exceptions, and they're all snark-based at that. Darcy Lewis was also obnoxiously popular based solely on a few lines of snark, but that didn't count because she wasn't the correct and virtuous choice of favorite female character.

(Seriously, you should have seen the whining about all the people horny for Darcy who didn't give a fuck about boring Jane. Sorry, but your blorbo is a snooze and mine has amazing tits in addition to being funny.)

Let's go look at what's big on AO3 since it's easy and that's what other lazy statistics compilers do and then base their whining on:

Looking at the M/M tag, here's the sidebar:

Castiel/Dean Winchester (111856)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (70823)

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski (70134)

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson (67796)

James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (61397)

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) (56548)

Minor or Background Relationship(s) (55109)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (49179)

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (46679)

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (44754)

I'm seeing canons with huge audiences. Teen Wolf and SPN are way more popular in fanfic fandom, relatively speaking, but they're certainly not obscure media.

I'm seeing a lot of leads. Sirius/Remus does stand out a little: they aren't walk-ons, but fanon did elevate them. Same with Draco, but main protagonist/most obvious nemesis is hardly a surprising ship type.

Let's play with exclude filters and see what's next (numbers won't be exact since this is via excluding the previous batches):

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (43234)

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian (40115)

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V (38398)

Keith/Lance (Voltron) (32757)

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) (32744)

Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester (31834)

Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) (31527)

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) (31011)

Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (30819)

Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (30133)

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (27403)

Original Male Character/Original Male Character (26854)

Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou (26854)

Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin (26454)

Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov (26453)

Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF) (21154)

Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion (20946)

James T. Kirk/Spock (20716)

Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin (20561)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet (20113)

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru (20039)

Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio (18806)

Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel (18013)

Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier (17577)

Dan Howell/Phil Lester (17518)

Levi Ackerman/Eren Yeager (17404)

Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know (17390)

Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou (17141)

Tartaglia | Childe/Zhongli (Genshin Impact) (17041)

Harry Potter/Severus Snape (16773)

Oh look: more leads.

Sure, there are some little oddities, like the fact that taekook is obviously the worst BTS ship and it is a personal attack on me that it is that popular. But come the fuck on: this is a parade of some of the most famous musicians and most popular anime, shows that had huge audiences and particularly huge audiences of the type that like fanfic.

Let's have a look at f/m:

Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug (33773)

Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy (33031)

Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s) (29586)

Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren (24192)

Minor or Background Relationship(s) (21606)

James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (21088)

Kylo Ren/Rey (16028)

James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader (15922)

Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley (15635)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (15335)

Pepper Potts/Tony Stark (14552)

Fox Mulder/Dana Scully (14214)

Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin (13616)

Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson (11471)

Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak (11383)

Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan (11272)

Castiel/Dean Winchester (11187)

Other Relationship Tags to Be Added (10529)

Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov (9750)

Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) (9736)

Okay, it is AO3 after all, so some m/m ships have snuck in there, but the general trend is still leads, leads, leads, now with some readerfic. (For James/Lily, you can blame the insanity that is Marauders fandom on TikTok, or so I hear.)

And f/f:

Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor (21520)

Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) (17873)

Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan (16168)

Minor or Background Relationship(s) (13681)

Clarke Griffin/Lexa (12876)

Adora/Catra (She-Ra) (11532)

Amity Blight/Luz Noceda (10880)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (10532)

Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends) (8925)

Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long (7766)

Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler (7369)

Korra/Asami Sato (7146)

Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair (6720)

Other Relationship Tags to Be Added (6684)

Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught (5764)

Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) (5529)

Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell (5347)

Laura Hollis/Carmilla Karnstein (4895)

Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo (4662)

Charlie Magne | Morningstar/Vaggie (4402)

Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan (4284)

Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer (4223)

Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam (3936)

Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova (3876)

Maya Bishop/Carina DeLuca (3700)

Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva (3689)

Castiel/Dean Winchester (3664)

Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price (3471)

Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs (3394)

Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee (3324)

Carmilla might be a little obscure compared to some media, and some other ships have snuck in here, but again, we're seeing some fairly prominent canons and the leads or at least main cast who have intense relationships in those canons. If most fantasy tv shows were Once Upon a Time, all of AO3 might be awash in nothing but swanqueen and captainswan.

The big thing that one sees is simply that f/f fandom often revolves around different media, while m/m and f/m are more likely to be into the same stuff that's full, full, full of main dudes getting to do things with one woman who matters.

We do not, in general, elevate anybody.

Not unless some very talented writer leads the way first with a juicy longfic that establishes all the fanon.

We repeat the myth that we do because it suits a certain narrative about how creative and transformative fandom is—and another equally popular narrative about how the lack of ship A/B is a ~conspiracy~ to rob one of one's rightful overflowing feed trough of fic.

It's bullshit.

We write about leads.

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