#OH MY GOD SHES SO CUTE!!! SO SO SO CUTE!!!!
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poguehearted77 · 1 day ago
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Imagine y’all just had the fight of your lives (maybe over his dumb gun or something equally Rafe), but later when you’re lying on opposite sides of the bed, he reaches out and pulls you close and says somthing cute or annoying idk And then, oh my GOD—it’s slow, emotional, and HOT because making up with Rafe would be next-level intense. please i NEEED😫😩
OH MY GOD YES. SOME SWEET RAFE AND EVEN SWEETER MAKE UP SEX AFTER A HUGE FIGHT. NEED IT.
#2 from my drabble game
smut: penetrative sex, some praise, I love you's, unprotected sex
Rafe is in deep shit.
You know that, he knows that-- hell, even your pet beagle, Poppy knew it. For once, she bolted away the moment the front door opened, and your oh-so-handsome, conniving and deceitful boyfriend walked in instead of running towards him.
Rafe is a dead man walking. How ironic would it be if he were to die at your hands with the very same gun he'd promised you he'd gotten rid of.
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His body goes rigid when he sees the weapon in your palm. A nervous gulp falls down his throat as he does his best to stand tall. "Where did you get that?" That's what he asks you, he should've never opened his mouth.
You scoff immediately, carelessly angling it around as your upset mannerisms control your arms. "Get it? You mean where did I find it." He doesn't respond which is a wise choice.
"Mr. Montogommery called me earlier, he was looking for you--said you weren't answering your phone. He asked me to leave you a message," You're pacing now, and it made Rafe nervous. You're a little crazy, but so was he. It's why you went so well together.
"Like the good girlfriend I am, I opened your office drawer for a sticky note to leave on your desk, but what did I find? The same gun you told me would never be back in the house, Rafe are you serious?!" Your arms are flailing and he's half-certain he'll catch a stray by the end of the conversation.
He steps towards you with his hands up cautiously, "Baby, give me the gun, and we can talk about this." You snap, "No! Why should I? You don't trust me with it? Why because it's dangerous? Because it could kill you! You're right, Rafe. Why didn't I think of that sooner--oh wait, I did! And you fucking lied to me, Rafe."
Your voice is enraged and bouncing off the ivory-panelled walls of the house but it dies down to a shaky one as tears threaten to spill over the brims of your eyes. "Y/n-" He holds his hand out for you, but you give him the gun instead.
You execute a sharp pivot on the tips of your toes, ready to walk away from him but he finally speaks up and you stop--not turning around, standing still, anticipating. "I'm not getting rid of the gun." It's all he says.
Had you been in the mood, you would've turned around, lounged at him and strangled him, but no, you just kept walking.
Your bedroom is freezing that night, despite it being the middle of summer, and it only gets colder everytime you glance towards Rafe as he gets ready for the bed you begrudgingly shared.
Your expression remains sour, even in your sleep, no matter how far away from your boyfriend you are. There's enough room to fit a full-grown adult between you. The isolation was holding the production of your melatonin hostage, forcing you both to lay awake, backs facing each other but hearts reaching out.
Rafe flips onto his side, staring longingly at the back of your frame. He missed you and you were right in front of him. "Baby," His voice is soft, and the pet name lands on you gently, a testament that your anger has subsided a bit.
You turn over, choosing to lie on your back and face the ceiling. You deem that he's undeserving to see your face at the moment. "I've got another gun in my nightstand." You blamed your miscomprehension on the late hours of the night because surely he did not just say what you think he said.
Rafe can see the way your chest began to rise and fall at a much more shallow pace, he had about five seconds to start explaining before you turned on him. "I told you about my past. I've done some bad things. 'Burying the hatchet' doesn't exist for everyone, and I want to be prepared for anything. When I look at a gun now, it's not a weapon anymore, it's a tool. It's protection."
Your breathing slowed, a little. He takes it as a good sign. "I can't lose you. If something happened to you when I could've prevented it, I'd never forgive myself, and I know you know that." He's right. You did know that. He dedicated his life to you, making sure that you knew that. "I shouldn't have lied about getting rid of it, and I'm sorry."
Your breathing returns to its normal pace. You lay on your side, now facing him. "Fine." Rafe scoots closer to you, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Fine?" You nod, "Yeah, fine. I forgive you, this time, but don't you ever pull some shit like this again or so help me god I will-" He quiets you with a sweet kiss.
Well, it started sweet at least.
Now you're both watching him slide in. Your warm cunt wrapped around his length delightfully. "You're fuckin' perfect, too good f'me." He groans into your ear. His muscular arms cage you in, and you've decided you'd be more than happy to die between them.
Your soft moans bounced off his brawny chest and right back in your face, "Feels so good, Rafe-" Yougaspedp as he picked up the pace, hips rolling into yours for a much deeper angle. Your back arches off the bed slightly as sweat rolls down your back and sticks to the sheets.
It wasn't long before you were both chasing your highs. Rafe always sounded so fucking hot when he was close, his deep groans pitching up to breathless whines when you purposefully clenched around him, threatening him to fill you up unrestrained. Once you came, he pulled out and finished on your heaving stomach, catching your breath.
He doesn't get off of you just yet. He balances himself on one forearm as the other hand comes up to gently move the strands of hair from your face, "I love you," he means it, his eyes say it when his mouth does. "I love you".
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justwantswafflefries · 2 days ago
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AHHH OH MY GOD SHES SO CUTE EHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEEEEEEEEEE
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faithshouseofchaos · 1 day ago
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But I love them — Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader
Word count — 985
Fluff
Warnings — slightly suggestive towards the end this is mainly for a my girlies who are apart of the big boobs community
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon in Charles’ apartment, the kind of day that begged for nothing more than lounging on the couch and ignoring the world. He was half-watching a football match, the sound of commentators filling the space as he absentmindedly scrolled on his phone. Beside him, Y/N was curled up, legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through her phone with a focused look on her face.
Out of nowhere, she sighed, set her phone down, and said casually, “I think I’m finally going to do it.”
Charles looked up, brow furrowing. “Do what?”
She didn’t even glance at him. “Get a breast reduction.”
It took him a moment to process the words. He blinked, sat up straighter, and turned to her with wide eyes. “Hold on. What now?”
Y/N finally looked at him, her expression calm but resolute. “I’ve been thinking about it for years, and I think it’s time. My back can’t take it anymore.”
Charles stared at her like she’d just suggested selling their firstborn child. “Your back? When did this become about your back?”
“Always,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Charles, you know this. I’ve been complaining for ages.”
He leaned back, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ve complained, sure, but I just thought it was, like, normal life complaining. Not surgery-level complaining!”
“Charles,” she said firmly, her tone laced with both patience and warning.
He sat up, his full attention now on her. “You’re seriously thinking about just… getting rid of them? Like, just like that?”
“Yes.”
“But…” He gestured dramatically at her chest. “You can’t just get rid of them! They’re—” He paused, grasping for the right word. “They’re iconic!”
Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, already regretting bringing this up while he was awake. “Charles. I’m in pain all the time. My shoulders have permanent dents from my bra straps, I can’t go running without strapping myself in like a gladiator, and every button-up shirt I own gapes open like it’s crying for help.”
“Okay,” he said, raising a hand to stop her. “But—”
“And bras?” she interrupted. “Do you know how much I spend on bras? A hundred bucks each, minimum. And they’re not even cute. They’re functional. Like, ‘industrial scaffolding’ functional.”
Charles blinked at her, his lips parting like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he said weakly, “But… you look great in them.”
“Oh my god.” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “This is not about how I look, Charles. It’s about how I feel. And I feel like I’m carrying around a couple of bowling balls every day of my life.”
He frowned, leaning forward as if he could reason his way out of this. “But what about us?”
“What about us?”
“Our dynamic! The… the whole…” He gestured at her chest again, like it was a key player in their relationship. “You know, vibe.”
“Charles,” she said flatly. “They’re boobs.”
“Not just boobs,” he argued. “They’re your boobs. They’re a part of you. A part of us!”
She stared at him, deadpan. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious!” He stood up, pacing in front of the couch now. “Do you know how many people would kill for what you’ve got? And you’re just gonna… throw them away like an old sweater?”
“Okay, first of all, ew. And second of all, you’re being dramatic.”
He stopped pacing to point at her. “I’m not being dramatic. I’m being honest. You’re about to break the hearts of an entire fanbase—”
“Your fanbase,” she corrected, raising an eyebrow.
“Exactly!”
Y/N let out a disbelieving laugh. “Charles, I’ve made up my mind. This isn’t about you, or your ‘fanbase,’ or even how I look. It’s about me being able to live my life without constant pain and discomfort.”
He deflated a little at that, sinking back onto the couch. “But what if you regret it?”
“I won’t.”
“But what if you do?” he pressed. “What if one day you wake up and think, ‘Wow, my life was so much better when Charles was worshiping the temple of—’”
She picked up a throw pillow and smacked him in the face with it. He caught it with a grin, but his eyes were still slightly pleading.
“Charles,” she said, softer now. “I appreciate that you love me exactly as I am. But this isn’t about you.”
He sighed dramatically, flopping backward on the couch. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m going to miss them. Like… a lot.”
“Noted,” she said dryly.
“Maybe I’ll throw a farewell party,” he added. “You know, invite some friends over. We’ll say our goodbyes properly.”
Y/N laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me,” he said smugly, pulling her back onto the couch and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“Unfortunately.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Y/N got up to grab a glass of water. Charles pulled out his phone and began typing into the search bar: “Can boobs grow back after surgery?”
She glanced back at him from the kitchen, catching the guilty look on his face.
“Charles!”
“What? I’m just… curious!”
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, but there was a smile tugging at her lips, drinking the water and setting the glass down on the counter as she walked back over to Charles.
“Hey!” Charles says as y/n snatches the phone out of Charles's hands her own hands cupped his face “It’ll be okay Charles. It’s not the end of the world baby, you know that right?” You ask.
“Of course I know that but I just love them so much,” Charles says, reaching up to cup her breast feeling the weight of them.
“Can I fuck them?” Charles asked out of nowhere.
“Charles!”
“What can’t blame me for asking” he says smiling holding his hands up defensively.
“You no what I don’t see why not”
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rafesbabyg1rl · 13 hours ago
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You were asking for reqs for rafe x reader, if you are taking them, I have one in mind. In which rafe is extremely possesive of bsf reader, and gets easily jealous. One day she was at a kook party, and a guy approached her and they started to talk and that sh*t went down, rafe got aggressive and almost beat the guy to a pulp. Reader is like a shy cute innocent, bimbo type. And smut after the scene if you write it.
Summary: Innocent!reader X possessive!Rafe, bestfriend!reader X bestfriend!Rafe. Summary is basically the anonymous ask!
Warnings: Rafe is possessive of reader. Established friendship. Rafe almost beats a guy to death. Mentions of drugs (no actual drug use), alcohol consumption. Lots of smut; p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, SLIGHT degradation (some praise too). The classic 'what are we' at the end. The L word.
Word Count: 6.1k
Author Note: Hello Beauties! Thank you for the support and kindness you've all shown me. And thank you for this ask, I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did your idea justice. Sorry that this is a bit long, it just sort of happened. Also, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday yesterday, well those that celebrate. I'm hoping to finish part four of The Watcher soon so I can get it out, life has just been so exhausting. Anyways, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.
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Your best friend, Rafe, had asked you to go to a party with him. Well, more like he had told you to go. Although it’s not like you’d ever miss the opportunity to party with your best friend. So, here you are; walking around the side of Topper’s house, looking for Rafe. You two didn’t come together, he got here before you. He knows you don’t love being around his ‘friends’ and their various illegal substances, even though he says he’s clean, he likes to have time with them before you get there. 
You round a corner, now entering the Thorton’s backyard. You look for Rafe as you work your way through the loud and busy crowd. You hear a friend call your name, you turn your head to her, and she waves you over. You approach her and a few others with a smile. You greet them.
The other girls chat amongst themselves as your friend speaks up, shouting over the music. “Hey!” She’s over enthusiastic per regular, probably a bit drunk too.
“Hey!” You shout back. 
She begins, “Oh my god! I have to tell you something. Guess who I saw—”. Usually, you’d want to hear all the gossip she’s about to ramble to you, but not right now. “Do you know where Rafe is?” You shout over her, cutting her off.
“What?” She asks, stepping closer to you so she can hear you.
“Do you know—” You’re suddenly interrupted by some guy standing beside you. You turn to face him.
“Hey.” He says, his tone confident. A cocky grin spreads across his face.
“Hi.” You smile politely, “Do I know you?”. You say hurriedly before turning back to your friend. She looks between you and the guy a few times before facing you and giving you a knowing smirk. You know what that look means and before you can say anything, she walks away. Leaving you alone with him. You roll your eyes at her playfully, although you really are annoyed that she didn’t tell you where Rafe is. 
Slowly, you turn your head back to the guy, flashing him another fake smile. He grins again before speaking, “No…no you don’t.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer to you so he doesn’t have to shout over the music as loud. “I’m Devin.”
Your fake smile is getting awkward, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about talking to him right now. “Nice to meet you, Devin. B-but I need to–”
Devin cuts you off, “Let me get you a drink.” 
You laugh shyly, “Oh...I-I’m okay, I actually have to…”
“Let me just get you a drink, it’ll only take a second.” He moves closer to rest his hand on your lower back for a slight moment, to get you to turn toward the drinks. 
Rafe was on the back patio sitting on one of the couches when someone had mentioned to him that they saw you. He went to go and find you, which is when he spotted you laughing with some guy, who moments later put his hand on you. Rafe’s already had a few drinks tonight, so his judgment clouded even more than usual, especially when it comes to you. 
As you walk towards the drinks, Devin’s hand falls and he follows close behind you. 
After a moment, you hear a mix of gasps and ‘ooohh’s’ from everyone. You turn to look behind you where everyone seems to be gathering. You find that Devin isn’t behind you anymore.
Immediately your eyes land on some commotion in the crowd, you squeeze through the ring of people forming around the area. Shit. You run forwards, pausing just before the fight. 
Devin is flat on his back, Rafe straddling him. Rafe has Devin’s shirt clenched in one fist, holding his head off the ground as he repeatedly drives his other fist into Devin’s face. 
“Rafe!” You shout. Keeping your distance, not wanting to get too close while he’s out of control. You’ve seen how he can get. In the years that you two have been friends, you’ve had to calm him down from countless fights, since nobody else can ever seem to do it. But, when nobody else steps in to try and stop the fight, you step closer, knowing something has to be done. “Rafe, stop! Stop it!” You scream. 
Devin’s completely unconscious, his nose is probably broken, but you can’t really tell; his face is a swollen mess of blood and bruises. You can’t stand here and watch anymore, and nobody seems to be listening to your cries for help. Because nobody is stupid enough to get in Rafe’s way while he’s like this. You step behind Rafe, putting your hands on his shoulders. You try to pull him back all the while trying not to get punched.
“Rafe! Look at me! Look at me, Ray!” Rafe turns his head to the side, momentarily stopping his actions, letting Devin’s head rest on the floor. You put a hand up to cup his cheek. Speaking quietly now as you plead to him. “Rafe…c’mon, that’s good, h-he’s had enough…”. Your tears slow, but your breath is still erratic as you look at the unconscious man. 
Rafe turns back to the guy, your hand falling from his face. Rafe pulls Devin’s head up, like he was going to punch him again. Instead, he lets go, letting the boy's head hit the floor. Rafe stands up without a word and grabs you by your wrist, tugging you away. 
Before you know it, you’re being shoved into your best friend's truck. His random mumbles don’t make much sense to you, talking about ‘he got what he deserved…Should’ve fuckin’ killed him…yeah, should’ve fucking killed him for that. Touchin’ what’s mine…’
When you get to Tannyhill, Rafe wastes no time pulling you into his room. You sit on his bed stiffly, waiting silently as he paces the room.
“Rafe?” You call out softly. “You okay? What happened back there? What was that?”
“He touched you.” Rafe states. His tone is low and rough, sending a chill down your spine. Even after all the years you’ve been his best friend, you still never know how to act when he’s like this. 
“Barely. He barely touched me.”
Rafe completely disregards what you say, shaking his head and blowing out a jagged breath as he continues to pace across his room, a bit slower now. “Why was he even talking to you? You were supposed to be with me. I told you to go to the party, not him.” 
You take your chance to get a word in as he spews out angry nonsense. “I was looking for you and he started talking, ‘wanted to get me a drink. I was just being nice; I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t even want to talk to him, I was looking for you, Rafe. I don’t even see why that matters–”.
He pauses, looking over at you. His movements are sharp as he strides over to you. “Don’t see why it matters…?” He repeats your words, more for himself than to you. “It matters because you’re mine.” His words are sharp, definitely directed to you that time.
“Rafe…you almost killed him…because of me? I don’t get it Rafe; I don’t nearly kill all the girls you fuck.” You state.
Rafe lets out a breathy chuckle before speaking. “Still don’t get it, huh?” Rafe laughs. “God you’re so innocent. So naive.” He pauses, stepping closer until he’s standing in front of you, looking down at you as you sit on his bed. “I need you, y/n. I can’t…god, I can’t even fuck anyone else anymore without thinking about you. I can’t let anyone else have you, got that? You understand now?” He asks harshly as he runs a rough hand through your hair. 
You try to swallow the lump in your throat. You look up and nod weakly, causing Rafe to flash a devilish grin. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, his voice coming out low. 
“Yeah…” You mumble back brainlessly, too shocked by your best friend's confession. You had always thought Rafe saw you purely as a friend. Although thinking back, you don’t know how you ever thought that with how he acts, especially lately. 
No time is wasted as Rafe quickly leans down, capturing your lips with his. The first kiss is hesitant, and you don’t kiss back. But when he pulls away to look at you, trying to gauge your emotion, you lean in. Your best friend takes that as a sign to continue. His lips quickly find yours again. When he feels you start to kiss back, he escalates things. Kissing you more roughly now, acting as though he’s a starved man and your lips are his meal.
His hand moves from the back of your head to your throat, lightly squeezing. At first you don’t even realize, too distracted by the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth. But when Rafe squeezes your neck even tighter, you move your hands to reach up and wrap around his wrist in an attempt to pull it away. Your mouth still occupied by his, the kiss is too fucking good to break. It feels like everything you didn’t know you needed. He’s giving you what nobody else could, because only he knows exactly what you need and exactly how to give it to you. Your lack of breath reminds you of your situation and you pull away from the kiss momentarily.
Rafe’s grip loosens as he pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Tell me you want this.” He mumbles breathlessly. 
You search his eyes as you catch your breath. Nodding, you finally speak up. “I want this.” You say definitively.
Not even half a second later, Rafe’s body crashes down onto you, pushing you down so that you’re laying on his bed. Rafe has one arm beside your head, holding himself up as his other remains on your neck. He hovers over you, one knee pressed between your thighs. Rafe leans down, his lips attaching to your neck, kissing and sucking frantically at your skin. He’s been waiting so, so long for this. 
His lips find your ear, softly biting at it before whispering. “Let me take care of you, baby. You want that, hm?”. While waiting for your response, his free hand traces down the side of your body until it reaches the hem of your skirt. He moves his face to the other side of your head, giving some attention to your other ear. “Need your best friend to help you feel good…give you what you need, yeah?” His hand slips under your skirt, slowly gliding up your inner thigh, sending shivers through your whole body.
“Yes–” A moan escapes your lips, interrupting you. Your eyes meet his before you continue. “Please Rafey…need you…”
His lips meet yours at the same time his hand meets your clothed cunt. He kisses you sloppily, exploring every part of your mouth with his tongue. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, your touch sending shocks through him. He rubs you through your panties. He can feel as you grow more needy, the wet spot on your panties getting larger. 
He can’t believe this is actually happening. He’s wanted to do this to you for so long; he’s dreamt of this moment happening in almost every way possible, but this…he never could’ve imagined this feeling. “Fuck…you’re so wet f’me already.”
“Ray…please…” You can’t help but rut your panty-clad cunt against his hand, searching for friction. Usually you’re never this bold, but you’re comfortable with him. You always have been, he is your best friend after all. You just pray that he understands what you need. 
Except Rafe doesn’t respond in the way you had hoped for. No, instead he pulls his hand out from under your skirt, eliciting a whine from you. He presses a genuine, wet kiss against your parted lips before moving down your body. Rafe slides down, kneeling onto the floor in front of the bed. He grabs you by the back of your knees and tugs you down towards him until your ass is at the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he swiftly removes your skirt. He spreads your legs, making them bend so your heels are on the edge of the bed. Eagerly, he presses wet, sloppy kisses up your inner thighs, his eyes trained up on you.
The sight of him like this between your thighs, doing exactly what you need…it drives you crazy. You lean your head back, letting out a moan as Rafe mouths at your entrance through the fabric your panties.
It’s not long before he’s peeling back your panties as well, sliding them off of you completely. Your legs threaten to close from insecurity, but your best friend is sure to hold them open.
“Fuck…this pussy’s even prettier than I imagined, baby. Soaked…just for me.” Rafe leans in, his mouth hovering just above your core. He silently asks for permission.
Being your best friend, Rafe knows that you’ve never done this before. No guy had ever wanted to date you while Rafe’s your best friend, they could see that you’re his, even if you couldn’t. 
His breath is hot on your bare center, he watches as you squirm and clench around nothing. Eagerly you nod, giving him permission. And within seconds his mouth is on you.
At first, he’s slow; gentle as his eyes continue to meet yours. He licks a warm stripe up your center, briefly pulling back to watch your reaction. Your head falls back, your mouth parted, and eyes closed as you experience this new sensation that your best friend is so generously giving you.
Rafe begins to lick and suck at you. His tongue circles your clit as he looks up, knowing you’d like it. A moan slips past your lips as your hand flies to the back of his head, the other gripping onto the sheets beside you. 
“Nnnghh…f-fuck, Ray…” You whine as his tongue fucks you relentlessly. He only mumbles against you in response, sending vibrations through your core. This felt even better than you had ever thought it would. When you heard people talk about sex, you didn’t think it could actually be this good. Though maybe that just has to do with the fact that Rafe’s your best friend, and he knows exactly what you need.
“Yeah?” One of his hands leaves your leg and moves to grope your tits through your clothes. “You like this, huh? You’re just a slut for your best friend, hm? Letting me have you like this…”
“N-need you…” You mutter, grieving the loss of his tongue on you. He stares at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. 
“I know, baby. I know.” Rafe’s mouth continues to work on you. His tongue gathers some slick from your entrance and brings it up to your clit, circling it with his tongue a few times before repeating the process. 
The feeling in your lower stomach is starting to build. It’s getting hard for you to sit still for him. It’s even harder for you to stay quiet. A plethora of moans escape you as Rafe’s mouth stays busy between your thighs. Your hand holds his head down, your other grips the sheets underneath you. 
“Rafe…please. S’too much, I can’t—” You whine. 
“Ah ah ah…stop running, baby. I got you. I got you.” Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you in place. “God,” He mutters breathlessly. “You taste…you taste so fuckin’ good. Hiding this from me all that time, hm?” He leans back down and continues his ministrations on you.
Your toes start to curl, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. Suddenly he stops and before you get the chance to look down to see why, one of his fingers is prodding at your entrance. “Gotta stretch this pretty little pussy out, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”
You nod, allowing one of his thick, long digits to slowly slide into you. You almost scream when he starts to move it, his mouth working on you at the same time. Rafe adds another finger, now thrusting two in and out of you. 
“Fuck baby, you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good. Jus’ gotta get you used to this, hm? You gonna let your best friend be the first to fuck you?” Rafe asks. You nod in response, agreeing to his words. Rafe’s fingers spread apart inside you, stretching your hole, preparing you for his cock. His tongue pauses again as he looks up at you and correct his previous statement. “The only one to fuck you.” Rafe puts his head back between your thighs, his fingers fucking you mercilessly as his tongue sucks at your bud. 
You nod again, followed by a whine. “F-fuck…Ray. I-I think I’m gonna…”
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm?” 
“Mhmm…yes, fuckk–” You respond, your fingers fighting to grasp onto the little hair he has. Your thighs begin to squeeze around him, causing him to pull his head up against the force of your hand on him. 
“Just a little more, baby. You can take it. I know you can. You gonna let me help you finish? You wanna cum?”
“Yes! Yes! Please Rafey…please let me cum.” Your begging makes him chuckle briefly before going back down on you. His tongue moves with precision, working on you with a purpose; to make you cum. 
Without warning, the band in your stomach snaps. You scream out his name as his tongue circles your sensitive bud and his fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Your best friend continues to work you through your first real orgasm. You’ve never felt anything like this. Why the hell did you wait so long to do this with him?
“God…baby. You’re so fuckin’ perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those pretty sounds.” Rafe carefully slides his fingers out of you, making you clench around nothing at the loss of him. He gets up from his knees, standing over you again. Rafe’s face glistens with your slick. His hand moves up to brush your hair back while he brings his free hand up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders. You oblige and he pushes two digits into your mouth. “Taste that? Taste how fuckin’ good you taste?” He pulls his fingers back, immediately moving down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. Rafe climbs on top of you, his mouth finding the sweet spot behind your ear. He whispers, “You okay?”
“Mhm…better than okay.” You reassure him. Your legs are still shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm. 
“Good.” He mumbles against your skin. “‘Cause I’m not even close to done with you, baby. We’re just getting started.” He doesn’t wait before he’s pulling off your shirt, kissing down your chest. Soon after, he unclasps your bra with one hand, pulling it off of you and tossing it onto the floor somewhere. 
His lips are vicious, attaching to any and every bit of your skin. His hands gently cup your breasts, his mouth finding and attaching to one of your nipples. His eyes stay trained up on your face, he likes seeing how you react to his touch. He pulls back, straddling your lap. Your hand shoots out to grab the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it upwards. He smirks and quickly does it himself, tossing it aside. He watches you like prey as your eyes skim over his bare chest. 
It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, you have, many times. But no matter how many times you see him like this, you’ll never get used to it. You’ve never seen him in this way though. It’s different, more intimate. You’ve never shared this kind of intimacy with anybody before. And you’re glad you’re doing it with your best friend, whom you’re comfortable with. 
The low light of his bedside lamps reflecting off of his toned skin, damp with sweat. You let out a slow breath as you take in the sight. “Fuck.” You mutter. 
Rafe leans down, kissing and nipping at your earlobe. He whispers, “Like what you see?” He laughs. 
You nod your head eagerly. “Mhmm…”
“Use your words baby, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?” 
“I…y-yes.” You whine as you wriggle underneath him, trying to squeeze your thighs shut in search of some much-needed friction.
Rafe knows what you need. He knows that you’re ready now; ready to give him everything, let him take your innocence, your virtue. He uses one hand to prop himself up as the other works at his belt. Once you realize what he’s doing, you try to help him out, eagerly unbuckling his belt as he kisses you passionately, like he’s never kissed anyone else before you; like you’re the only girl on this fucking planet. 
Once his belt is off, you work at his pants. He leans up so he can tug them off, throwing them aside with the rest of the discarded clothes. All that’s left between the two of you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel his hardened form pressing into your leg as he kisses you, practically devouring you. Without thinking about it, you find your hand tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You beg. “Please”, your lips whisper into his ear as he bites at your neck. “Rafey…”
He leans back again, this time getting off of you and standing at the side of the bed and in front of you. You can’t help but touch yourself as Rafe frees himself from the constraint of his boxers. You watch as his hard cock springs up, hitting his stomach when it’s finally freed. He smirks, leaning down to remove your hand from yourself. 
“I got you, baby. I got you. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles, moving his hand over your core again. His strong fingers circle your clit. Your breath hitches as you watch him touch you, his other hand holding the base of his cock.
“Rafe?” You manage to ask through your cries. 
“Hm? What is it?” Rafe says your name softly, encouraging you to continue. 
“Will it hurt?” You’ve heard that the first time can be uncomfortable. And judging by Rafe’s size, this was going to be more than just uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to back out of the situation, you need this. You need him.
Your best friend’s expression becomes more serious as he looks at you. His hand comes up from your core to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “It might, baby. It might be a little uncomfortable for a moment, but I’ll do my best to make it feel good, yeah? I’ll go slow. And if you don’t like it I want you to tell me. You’re okay, baby. It’s just me, your best friend. I’m gonna take care of you. M’kay?” You nod in response, his eyes darting between your eyes to get a sense of what you’re thinking. Rafe clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah. Use your words, pretty girl.” His hand reaches out for your chin, tilting your face up towards him. 
“Please Ray…”
“Please what?”
“Fuck me…” The words sound so vulgar coming from your sweet, innocent mouth. He’s never known you to speak this way, but he’s not against it. He pumps his fist over his cock a few times, his head leaning back as he lets out a groan. “Please Rafe…I-I need you in me…”
Your words snap him out of his amazement. “Atta girl.” He replies. You can feel his tip gently rub against your slippery entrance. Your warm juices on his cock feel better than anything he’s ever experienced. You’re like a drug to him. A drug that he can’t get enough of. 
He pulls back before you can get used to the feeling of him. He leans over you, reaching into his dresser drawer. When he moves back over you, you see the shiny square wrapper in his hand.
You place your hands over his as he tries to open the condom. “No…”
His head snaps up at you. “No…? No what?” He asks, confused. “You don’t want to do this?”
“No…Rafe, I-I want this. I just…I want to feel you. No…no condom.” You explain.
“Fuck, y/n. Are you sure?” Rafe’s disbelief and shock is very apparent in his tone. 
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m on the pill.” You confirm.
“God, how much more perfect can you fuckin’ get?” He chuckles, making you huff out a quick laugh. 
Soon his lips are back on yours as he uses his hand to guide his glistening, pink tip back to your puffy cunt. Slowly, he pushes into you, just so that the very tip of his cock is inside of you. He looks up to your face, pending your reaction. 
“F-fuck…Rafe.” Your hands move to his hips, pushing him further inside. Rafe gives in, pushing another inch into you. “Mnghh, fuck…Rafe.” Rafe settles there for a moment before giving you another inch or two. Each time he moves, he looks to make sure you’re still enjoying it, giving you a minute to adjust each time. When he finally bottoms out, you feel so…full. The pain is there, but it doesn’t last long, fading into a light discomfort as your soft walls mold to his shape. You involuntarily squeeze around him.
“Shiiiitt, baby…Squeezin’ me so tight.” He pauses to kiss you, his lips soon finding that soft spot behind your ear that makes you shiver. “M’gonna move now, alright?”
“Mhm…please…” You whine. You hook your arms under his, bringing your palms up to grip onto his back. Rafe continues to kiss all over your neck and chest as he slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is left inside. Without warning, he pushes into you a bit quicker this time, with a bit more force than before. But you’re not complaining. You cry his name out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He begins to move at a slow, steady pace as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. “F-fuck…” You yelp, gripping onto him even harder.
“Fuck, baby…your nails, they hurt.” He mumbles amusedly into your ear as he nips at it. Immediately your grip loosens. You feel terrible but can’t manage to muster up an apology since you can’t think clearly with how his cock is repeatedly kissing your cervix with each thrust. 
“Faster.” You beg, pressing your forehead into his arm. He listens cautiously, carefully picking up the face. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. The new position allows him to hit an even deeper spot inside of you. When his digits start to circle your clit you almost let out a scream, making him chuckle. 
“Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?” He laughs as he fucks you senseless.
“Fuck…Rafey, no, I…I can’t. Can’t take it.” You moan, throwing your head back as your eyes squeeze shut. 
“You can and you will.” He speaks emotionlessly, overtaken by pleasure. Rafe’s hand moves from you clit up to your throat again, he applies a bit of pressure. Your hands leave his back and wrap around his wrist. Your eyes stay shut as your face contorts into that of pure bliss. His thumb slides into your mouth and you suck and bite at it, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feeling of him fucking you. You don’t see how you can ever stop; this feeling is…unlike anything else you’ve felt before. “You got this baby. M’almost there. You can let go, baby. Just let go f’me.”
Sooner than later you feel the newly familiar feeling of pressure building in your lower stomach. When it snaps, your body tenses up, a wave of moans escape your mouth as the band snaps and pleasure washes over you. Rafe continues to fuck you slowly, his movements becoming more sporadic than strategic.
“Fuck, where do you want it?”
“My pussy, please Rafey…fill me up?” You ask, eyes wide with tears as you look up at him. “Please?”
“Shit, you sure?” Rafe groans, barely able to hold on any longer.
“Y-yes...I’m sure.” Only seconds later you can feel his warm seed spurting out inside of you. Your gummy walls soaking him in as they squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s got.
“Fuckk y/n. Do that again.” As he thrusts into you without any specific rhythm, you obey his words, squeezing tightly around his length again. Rafe lets out a guttural moan, tossing his head back for a moment before looking at you again, watching how well you take him, as if you were made for him. The way he fills you up you is like pieces of a puzzle, just meant for one another. “Shiiitt…you’re so fucking tight. Squeezin’ ‘round your best friends cock so good.”
After you’re both worked through your orgasms, he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of him, feeling a big opening left where he had been. Rafe leans down to press a deep, meaningful kiss to your lips. He pulls back, wiping your hair and sweat from your face with a proud smile.
“God, baby. You did so good, so fucking good. That’s a good girl. My girl, yeah?” He leans down again, pressing a kiss to your neck. Rafe whispers in your ear. “m’so proud.” Before pulling away completely, he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks, your nose, and one final kiss to your forehead. 
You turn on your side to face him as he lay on the bed beside you. “Rafe…” Your voice shows your exhaustion, but also your hesitancy.
He turns on his side to face you as well, propping his head up against his hand. “Hm?” He says with a smile. He can’t help it, it’s impossible for him to see you and not smile after what you just did. 
You flop back down onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. It’s too hard to say this while looking at his beautiful smile. “That was…” 
“Incredible?” He interrupts, his fingers lightly tracing up and down your arm. 
“What was that?” You blurt out, scared that if you don’t say it now then you never will.
Rafe’s smile fades quickly, he props himself up on his elbows, staring down at you with furrowed brows. “Woah woah, woah. Hey. What? What d’you mean?”
You give a light shrug, his fingers no longer moving over your skin. You avoid looking at his pretty eyes. “I mean like…what happens now?”
He sighs, laying back down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you’re my girl now, yeah? I thought that was obvious.” 
“Your girl? The Rafe Cameron I know doesn’t do girlfriends.” You say lightly.
“That’s because I never wanted one. I never…needed one, I’ve got you.”
“So…we’re friends?” You ask, attempting and failing at trying to hide your emotions.
“We are, aren’t we?” Rafe responds, not knowing what his words imply or how they’ll make you feel.
“Yeah…yea we’re friends.” You say dryly. 
He turns his head to face you. “Hey. Y/N. What’s wrong? Hey…hey, talk to me.”
“Nothing, Rafe. I’m fine.”
“Jesus, no you’re not. C‘mon baby, what is it?”
“Nothing!” You snap. You’re angry about your own reaction, feeling stupid once the words leave your mouth. Grabbing the sheets, you cover yourself up.
“Did I do something? What’d I do?” Asks Rafe, making you feel worse about yourself. It’s not his fault you feel like this. “Is it what we did? Look, I’m sorry if—“
You cut him off, not being able to listen to him blame himself. “I just…I don’t think friends do what we just did.”
“Jesus, y/n. Look…” He trails off, cursing himself. “Do you not wanna be my girl or something? ‘Cause I can—“
“No, Rafe. I just…I don’t get what you mean. Your girl?”
“Yeah.” He says, confused.
“Like…your girlfriend? Dating? Us?”
“Fuck. Yes, baby. My girlfriend.” Rafe says the word as though it’s a pain to say it. “Will you be my girlfriend? Please?” You could tease him about the way he’s practically begging you.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” You joke, not being able to resist. Rafe laughs, glad to hear your usual self. 
“Well, I’m kinda hoping that I’m your…boyfriend, now.”
“Hmm…let me think…” You say, tapping your chin as if this is something you need to contemplate. You can see his demeanor sadden from the corner of your eye, causing you to look over at him. “What’s in it for me?” You add, a smirk threatening to appear on your face. You can barely hold back your laughter at this point, but he still looks so sad, like a puppy who can’t have a treat. “Jesus Rafe, I thought you’d never ask.” You don’t even give him enough time to respond before you’re on top of him, his lips immediately seeking yours.
“Yeah? You mean it?” He asks between kisses, almost nervously. 
“Of course I do, Rafe. ‘Promise.” 
You always know just what to say to him to calm down his mind, he loves that about you. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. God, I fuckin’ love you.” Your eyes widen at his confession, you look down at him. He’s almost just as shocked as you are. He didn’t even know he felt that way. The words just slipped out, but they felt so right. “Fuck, no, I meant—“ Rafe starts, but you cut him off. You kiss him again,  passionately. This kiss shows him exactly how you feel, somehow being more intimate than having sex with him was. 
“I love you, Rafe. I promise.” You know how he can feel like everybody is against him, so you try to reassure him as much as you can. You’re the only one who’s ever made him feel cared for; he just never wanted to fuck things up with you. “Please just…can you promise me that you’ll stop beating up random strangers who talk to me? ‘Cause I don’t care about them, Rafe. I care about you.”
This is all so new, talking to each other in this way. But it’s how you’ve both always felt. “But y/n, he-“ Rafe pauses, reconsidering his words for you. He sighs and then mumbles, “Yeah…I’ll try.” He looks back at you, you with a stern look in your eyes. “I will. I promise.”
You smile, leaning down for a kiss. Quickly, things start to escalate again. Rafe flips you both over so he’s on top. He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and nipping at it as he works his way down, kissing every inch of you. 
“Mnmh…fuck…” You moan.
Rafe smiles against your skin. “Yeah, baby? That feels good huh?” You only nod eagerly as a response. Rafe takes hold of his already hard cock, using his fist to pump over himself a few times, letting out a low growl. He rubs his dewy, pink tip over your sticky hole. 
You let out a moan, still being sensitive from your previous orgasms. “F-fuck…Rafe, m’too sensitive, s’too much.” You whine.
“Shh…shhhh baby, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do nothin’, jus’ wanna show you how proud of my girl I am.” His mouth works it’s way down, landing back between your thighs. Your boyfriend softly bites at your inner thighs, his eyes staying trained on you as your face contorts in pleasure. Eventually he finds your soaking core, lapping up the mix of your juices. You feel his fingers gather some of your arousal, mixed with his cum. Before you know it, those fingers are deep inside your throat. “Taste that, baby? Hm? Taste how fucking good we are?” 
You nod, whining when his mouth finds your core again. His tongue flicks at your most sensitive bud, making you jump. Although Rafe only holds onto harder the more you try to run. “Baby, it’s okay. Let me take care of you; clean you up.”
It doesn’t take long until you’re yet again, a shaking, crying mess underneath him. When his mouth works it’s way back to yours, you can taste both of you on his tongue. “Fuckin’ love this pussy. I fucking love you.”
You smile a weak, tired smile at him. He rolls off of you, flipping you both on your side so he can spoon you. He kisses your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing mindless shapes into your skin. “I love you too.” You respond as you drift off to sleep in your boyfriend's arms.
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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to leave more asks, I will most likely get to them at some point. Thank you!
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pitchsidestories · 1 day ago
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aurora II Mapi León x Reader
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masterlist | word count: 1190
summary: Mapi and reader getting engaged under the northern lights.
author's note: dear readers, this cute oneshot was requested and we hope you'll like it as much as we did writing the story. 🫶🏻🫶🏻
„Oh, Mapi, you know you didn’t need to.”, you began, your voice full of emotions.  
In your slightly shaky hands, you held the opened envelope in which there was an invitation to see the Northern lights. A childhood dream was laying in your palms.
It was coming true, and you were going to see that natural wonder with no other than the person you loved the most. A single tear ran down your cheek as an incredible feeling of gratitude spread through you.
The Spaniard pressed a featherlight kiss to the place where your cheek was still a bit wet.  “But I wanted to. I know you always wanted to do that, and you deserve it after the year you’ve had.”
For a brief moment, your face darkened; the last few months of the 2024/25 football season had been really tough for you. While Mapi and Irene were fit enough to play in the starting eleven again, you were demoted to the substitutes' bench again, after having grown in the role of defender and been indispensable to the team for many months.
Obviously, you were happy for the two, yet it hurt to be only considered the second choice once more.
“Thank you, amor.”, you whispered gratefully.
“You’re welcome.”, she replied.
“I simply can’t wait for that.”, you hummed excitedly. Something magical at the end of the year was just what you needed, a small winter miracle.
“Luckily, you don’t have to wait for long.”, Mapi reminded you softly.
‘But you're going to be so cold!’ you realised, and there was a hint of a guilty conscience in your voice.
“You can keep me warm.”, the defender responded with an amused smile on her lips.
“I promise I’ll.”, you grinned at your girlfriend.
“Also I already bought us matching sweaters.”,Mapi confessed sheepishly
“You did?”, you asked her touched by such a thoughtful and admittable, cheesy gesture.
“I did.”, she confirmed smirking.
“Maria Pilar, you’re the softest human with tattoos I’ve ever met, I swear.”, you said.
“My tattoos have nothing to do with that.”, the fellow football player laughed.
The weeks had flown by.
Still, it felt to you like a dream when Mapi and you were looking up to the night sky in the northern parts of Scandinavia. The northern lights above your heads.
“Yes.”, she agreed solemnly. With curious eyes the defender turned her head to look at you.  “Is it just like you imagined?”
“No, it’s even better.”, you admitted.
“It’s?”, Mapi questioned happily.
You quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek: “Yes, because you’re here with me.“
“You’re so sweet.“, your girlfriend smiled, her cheeks red from the cold.
“Also this feels so good right now. We’re only half way through the season but it’s already been an exhausting one for sure.“
“I know. And that’s why you’re not supposed to think about football here.“, Mapi reminded you gently.
You nodded gingerly. Of course she was right, this was not the time or place to think about football when you finally got to see this remarkable light display with your own eyes. “Sorry.“
Silently, you both watched on for a moment, taking everything in. You still couldn’t believe this was all real. It was almost verging on overwhelming.
“Y/n?”, Mapi said suddenly into the night.
“Hm?”, you replied without taking your eyes off the sky.
“I need to ask you something.“
Finally you turned towards her and what you saw, made the northern lights pale in comparison. There was no way to top this, yet Mapi found away.
The defender kneeled in front of you, holding a delicate golden ring in a little box.
“Oh my god!”, you whispered, incapable of stringing more words together.
“I haven’t asked yet.“, Mapi chuckled.
You shook your head in disbelief: “Well, you already got down on one knee in the freezing cold and pulled out a ring from your jacket so this is pretty self-explanatory!”
“So… Can I get an answer then?”
“Without asking? Hm…“, you teased her.
Mapi shot you a look: “You just said I didn’t have to.“
“It’s a yes, amor.“, you finally answered. You couldn’t contain the smile spreading across your face when you pulled Mapi up from the snowy ground and kissed her.
“You will be my wife?”, she asked as if she needed confirmation that you knew what you had just agreed to.
“Yes, and you’ll be mine.“
She beamed at you happily: “I will be. Even in the cold… Can we go inside now?”
“Of course, I can’t let my fiancée freeze any longer.“, you nodded with a laugh and led her inside your rented cabin.
“Thank you.“, your fiancée said, rubbing her hands together to warm them back up once she was inside.
“You’re welcome. Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate?”, you suggested once you saw how badly Mapi was shivering.
“Yes, please.“
While she took off her boots and winter jacket, you disappeared into the small rustic kitchen only to return with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate a few minutes later. You had even added mini marshmallows. Carefully, you handed Mapi a mug and watched her take a sip.
“Better?”
“A lot.“
“Good.“, you sighed relieved.
“That’s all I ever wanted.”, the defender realized gratefully.  
“A hot chocolate under the northern lights?”, you asked her amused.
“With my future wife.”, she added proudly. Her words made you feel suddenly very hot, so you had to pull off the scarf.
Despite the rather chaotic proposal you heard yourself saying. “Feels like a dream.”
“It does, huh?”
“Yes, I don’t want to wake up from it yet.”, you confessed.
The fireplace crackled in the background.
“You don’t have to. That’s our life right now.”, Mapi reassured you, the Spaniard gently touched your chin and turned it towards her so that you could look into her hungry eyes.
They and her waiting lips were the invitation you needed, both of your mouths touching in perfect unison, the kiss was perfect, bittersweet, you could still taste the hot chocolate in it.
Then she leant her forehead against yours, her sentence sounded full of promise. “Love you, future wifey.”
“Te amo.”, you whispered gently in your fiancées mother tongue.
“I know.”, Mapi chuckled, her lips escaping a protesting sound once you got up to light some candles and turned out the big lights, so it was even cozier than before.
“Isn’t this perfect.”, the Spaniard admired.
“It’s plus we can see the northern lights from our beds.”, you pointed excitedly to the glass ceiling which gave a picturesque view of the night sky above your heads.
“Nice, right?”, she grinned, as you both laid down on the soft mattress.
“Yes, it’s an amazing place to make..”, you started blushing.
“Love?”, Mapi finished the sentence for you with a teasing look on her face.
“Yes.”, you bit your lips while your fiancée began to leave small kisses all over your body.
Aurora, the blush of dawn would be here soon, but you two had only eyes for each other as you made love under the most beautiful sky you’ve ever seen.
if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !
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helen-with-an-a · 9 hours ago
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Hii! I was thinking maybe like a alexia!player reader who is also good at singing😂 and have it inspired by ‘perfect to me’ Bradley Marshall- and it’s like the lead up to their wedding? And she surprises alexia with this song she sings during their first dance? And you could maybe showing them asking for bridesmaid etc?🫶🏼
Hiiii - so this request is so stinking cute but I've changed it slightly to make it a little more private moment between them. I kinda did it as snapshots of just after the proposal, the day before the wedding and then just after the wedding (so the wedding isn't included if that makes sense)
You Are The Music In Me
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Description: You gift Alexia something very special for your wedding
Word Count: 4k
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ugh she's so pretty wtf
Alexia was fairly sure you could sing. She’d picked up on it in the most casual, unassuming moments – like when she noticed you humming along under your breath to the music you played while making dinner. Your voice would weave in and out of the melody, blending effortlessly with the rhythm of your cooking. It was a subtle, soothing accompaniment that made the kitchen feel more like a concert hall.
Then there were the times when she’d catch those docile tones drifting through the bedroom as you sang softly while you were in the shower. Even with the sound of the water cascading down, your voice managed to pierce through, delicate yet clear. It was as if the steam and tiles amplified your singing in an intimate, private performance.
And let’s not forget the car rides. She’d often hear you softly harmonise with the radio while you drove, your fingers tapping the steering wheel in perfect time with the beat. Your voice would seamlessly blend with the music, an effortless harmony that spoke of a deep, natural musicality.
Despite these subtle but telling glimpses into your talent, every time Alexia tried to coax you into singing out loud – into letting your voice be heard beyond those private moments – you would shy away. You’d offer a sheepish smile and dismiss her encouragement with a casual wave of your hand, as if to brush off the compliment and the request. It was clear that your singing was a cherished secret, something you shared only with yourself and the music, never quite ready to fully unveil it to the world.
It was the one thing Alexia had never managed to persuade you to do, no matter how gently she tried or how earnestly she asked. Your singing remained an elusive treasure to her.
-----
“Yes,” The single word was filled with all the love and commitment you had been feeling. It was a quiet but profound. “Yes, yes, Alexia. Yes, I will marry you. Oh my god.” As the words left your lips, you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the tears that began to well up in your eyes.
Alexia’s face lit up with an ecstatic smile that seemed to brighten the entire room. Her eyes glistened with tears of joy, mirroring your own emotions. The ring she had so thoughtfully chosen was nothing short of breathtaking.
As Alexia gently slid the ring onto your finger, you were filled with a sense of disbelief and elation. The reality of what was happening sank in – you were about to marry the love of your life, the person who had become your everything. You pulled Alexia up to standing, her hazel eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She leaned down, pouring her emotions into a passionate kiss.
The world could have ended for all you knew. In that perfect, suspended moment, nothing outside of this bubble of joy seemed to matter. The stars could have fallen from the sky, the ground could have crumbled beneath your feet, and the cosmos itself could have unravelled, and it wouldn’t have made a difference. All that was important, all that filled your heart and mind, was Alexia. The person who meant more to you than anything or anyone else. She was perfect, with a kindness that touched everyone she met and a sweetness that made even the simplest moments feel extraordinary. She was your Ale – your love, your confidante, your everything.
As you held her close, her breath warm and soft against your lips, she whispered, “Voy a ser tu esposa.” Her voice was filled with wonder and affection, the words barely more than a breath.
You couldn’t help but giggle, your joy spilling over into laughter as you responded, “That’s generally how this works, Ale.” Your voice was light and teasing, infused with the happiness that bubbled up from the very core of your being.
Alexia’s eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and reverence. “Lo sé, mi niña descarada,” she said, rolling her eyes with a dramatic flair that made you both laugh. “But I get to be your wife,” she continued, her voice filled with awe and deep emotion. The words carried a profound sense of joy and disbelief, as if she was marvelling at the dream she had just realised.
“And I get to be yours. Mrs Putellas. Forever and ever,” you exclaimed gleefully, the words spilling out with an almost childlike delight. Your heart swelled with the excitement of your new identity.
With a burst of energy and joy, Alexia swept you up into her arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around in a joyful, impromptu dance. The movement was exhilarating and exhilarating, a physical manifestation of the happiness and excitement you both felt. As she twirled you around, the world seemed to blur into a whirlwind of laughter, love, and unrestrained bliss. The moment was electric, filled with the pure, unfiltered joy of two people deeply in love, celebrating the beginning of a lifetime together.
“If only we had some music … we could practice our first dance,” Alexia mused, her voice filled with a dreamy, whimsical tone. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she envisioned the romantic moment, the thought of dancing together under the soft, flickering light of the candles adding an extra layer of enchantment to the already magical evening. She spun around slightly, her gestures playful and full of anticipation.
You chuckled softly, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “I’m not singing, Ale,” you replied, a hint of playful defiance in your voice. The idea of serenading her, especially in this intimate, perfect moment, seemed both amusing and slightly daunting.
Alexia’s eyes widened in exaggerated shock, and she gasped dramatically. “Even after I just proposed to you?” she asked, her voice laced with faux indignation. Her reaction was a perfect blend of surprise and playful reproach. The sparkle in her eyes and the mischievous smile tugging at her lips made it clear that she was teasing, enjoying the playful exchange.
You laughed, your heart swelling with affection at her charming display. “Is that why you did it? Just to hear me sing?” you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. Alexia’s face softened into a genuine smile as she took your hand in hers, the laughter in her eyes mingling with the deep love and joy she felt. The look she gave you was one of adoration, filled with all the warmth and sincerity that came with her deep feelings for you.
“Eh, there were some other reasons as well,” she teased, her tone light
“Oh really, like what?” you asked, leaning in closer, eager to hear more. The curiosity in your voice was genuine, as if you were hanging on every word she said, fully invested in whatever she was about to say.
Alexia’s smile grew even softer, and she looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Like the fact that I am desperately, hopelessly, totally in love with you.”
-----
You had decided to go the traditional route of not seeing each other before the wedding. It wasn’t necessarily your first choice, but Alexia had asked for it and you would move mountains for that woman if she asked you to.
When Alexia had expressed her wish to follow this tradition, her eyes shining with a blend of excitement and sentimental longing, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of devotion. Although the idea of spending those final hours apart was not what you would have chosen for yourself, her happiness and the fulfilment of her wishes were far more important to you. You knew that this was a special request for her, something that would make her feel even more cherished and treasured on your wedding day.
You had come to a compromise of enduring 24 hours apart, a span of time that felt both unbearably long and exhilaratingly brief. Those 24 hours seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with a palpable sense of anticipation and yearning. Every minute apart was marked by a mix of excitement and a longing to be reunited. The separation, though challenging, was a testament to your commitment and dedication to making this moment as special as possible for Alexia.
The hours seemed to crawl by, each one underscoring the significance of what was to come. The anticipation of seeing Alexia in her wedding dress, the thought of her walking down the aisle towards you, and the sheer joy of finally being together again made every second of waiting worthwhile. Each tick of the clock was a reminder of the love and devotion that bound you together, making the eventual reunion even more poignant and memorable.
You had decided to leave her a little gift, a gesture that was both sentimental and deeply personal. After much thought and searching, you managed to find an ancient old Walkman – a vintage piece that seemed almost nostalgic in its own right. It wasn’t easy to track down, and the search had taken you quite some time, but the effort was well worth it for the joy it would bring.
The Walkman was a relic from a bygone era, a classic cassette player that symbolised a touch of nostalgia and a personal connection to simpler times. You knew that Alexia would appreciate its charm, especially given her love for vintage items and the meaningful gestures that spoke to her heart. Along with the Walkman, you had prepared a CD loaded with carefully selected songs. Each track was chosen with love and intention, representing a soundtrack to your shared moments, memories, and dreams.
You carefully placed the Walkman and the CD in a beautifully wrapped box, leaving a note for her, explaining what she needed to do.
Bon vespre, amor meu, Less than 24 hours and you will be my wife. Listen to this alone – it will take 20 minutes to listen to the whole thing. Sleep well, my love Te amo con todo mi corazón Your soon to be wife, x Ps. Listen to it when you aren’t wearing any makeup
Alexia had never regretted anything more in her life. It wasn’t the fact that she was marrying you; in fact, she saw that as the greatest achievement of her life, a dream come true that filled her with boundless joy and anticipation. No, what she deeply regretted was having asked to spend the last few hours before your marriage apart. The separation, meant to heighten the emotional impact of your reunion, instead left her feeling a profound sense of longing and melancholy. She missed your presence more than she could have anticipated, and the anticipation of being together again only intensified her regret.
The box was elegantly adorned with a ribbon, and even from across the room, Alexia could spot your handwriting on the attached tag. The familiar, personal script instantly brought a flutter of excitement to her heart.
Unable to contain her emotions, Alexia felt a wave of embarrassment at the speed with which she moved towards the desk. Her steps quickened, almost as if the box was a beacon guiding her through the haze of her separation. The anticipation of what lay inside the gift was palpable, and she couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief and joy at the thought of connecting with you through this special token.
When she finally peered inside, her eyes widened in recognition and delight. Sitting in front of her was a black Walkman, an object reminiscent of the one she had used as a child to listen to her favorite music. The sight of it instantly evoked a wave of nostalgia, transporting her back to simpler times when life was filled with the comforting sound of music through her Walkman’s headphones. The vintage device, so carefully chosen and wrapped, was so obviously from you, even without the note.
She carefully fished out the headphones that you had thoughtfully included with the Walkman and felt a fresh wave of excitement wash over her. The headphones, compact and classic, were a perfect match for the vintage device. They were delicate, with soft cushioning around the earpads that promised a comfortable fit, and their design mirrored the nostalgic charm of the Walkman itself.
With a mixture of curiosity and eagerness, Alexia moved to the bed, where she could sit comfortably and fully immerse herself in the experience. The bed was adorned with plush pillows and a cozy blanket, creating a serene and intimate space where she could enjoy this special moment. As she settled onto the soft surface, her fingers gently caressed the Walkman and its accompanying headphones, appreciating the careful attention to detail that had gone into choosing and preparing this gift.
She placed the headphones over her ears, adjusting them to fit snugly, and then turned her attention back to the Walkman. With a sense of anticipation, she inserted the CD into the device, the familiar click of the mechanism echoing in the quiet room. The action was filled with a sense of ritual and connection, as if every step of the process was a way of drawing closer to you, despite the physical distance.
As she pressed play, Alexia was momentarily startled by the unexpected sound of someone clearing their throat. The noise, though gentle, cut through the quiet room and brought her attention sharply back to the Walkman.
The voice that followed made her heart skip a beat. “Hola, mi casi esposa,” you greeted warmly. Even after all the years spent living in Barcelona, your Spanish still carried that charming, endearing lilt that never failed to make her smile. “It’s me, your almost wife. In case you couldn’t tell,” you added with a soft, playful giggle that was instantly recognisable and filled with affection.
The sound of your voice, so delicate and infused with happiness, immediately lifted Alexia’s spirits. The sincerity and warmth in your tone were like a soothing balm, easing the pangs of separation she had been feeling. Your voice was a comforting reminder of your love and the special connection you shared, making the separation feel a little less daunting.
She listened intently as you continued, your words carrying a mixture of playfulness and guilt. “So, I know we said no wedding presents, but I couldn’t not.” The confession was tinged with a touch of sheepishness, and Alexia could easily picture your expression – a sly smile accompanied by a slight blush as you admitted to breaking the agreement you had both made. The image of you, trying to hide your excitement and affection while going against the agreed-upon rules, brought a soft, knowing smile to her face. It didn’t matter that you had gone against your promise, you would get back from your evening meal to find a similarly wrapped present waiting for you, Alexia’s own handwriting on a note just for you to read.
“Anyways,” your voice continued softly, “there are a few songs on here that make me think of you and our life together so far. Each one holds a special memory or a moment we’ve shared, a soundtrack to our journey together. I hope you enjoy them as much as I’ve enjoyed putting this together for you. But just know, above all, that I love you to the ends of the earth and I cannot wait to marry you.”
As your voice carried the sweet promise and deep affection, Alexia felt a lump form in her throat. “Sweet dreams, my beautiful girl. T'estimo molt,” you added, the endearing words resonating with warmth and sincerity. The intimacy of the message, coupled with the sound of your voice, made her heart swell with emotion.
Alexia struggled to blink back the tears that had suddenly welled up in her eyes, their warmth streaming down her cheeks. The first song began to play, its melody a tender echo of your love and the moments you had shared. Each note seemed to intertwine with the feelings of longing and joy that she had been experiencing, amplifying the emotional impact of your heartfelt message. The music, now a bridge between your hearts, made the separation feel less daunting and the anticipation of your union even more poignant. The combination of your loving words and the carefully chosen songs created a beautiful moment of connection, making her feel profoundly loved and cherished as she prepared to drift off to sleep with the comforting thought of your upcoming marriage.
As the final song faded, your voice appeared again.
“One final song, my love. And then it’s time for bed, I need you well rested for tomorrow,” you giggled sweetly. “You are absolutely perfect for me, Alexia Putellas Segura. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. I would give my lungs if you needed to breathe, or the light if you can’t seem to find it. I should probably save this for my vows, but I promise to make you laugh every day until we’re old and have grey hair and need a stairlift.”
You cleared your throat again, the sound small but deliberate. As the initial notes of a piano began to play softly, Alexia held her breath in eager anticipation. Then, your voice emerged, breaking through the gentle accompaniment with a tender, melodious clarity.
From the very first note, she was captivated. Your voice was nothing short of enchanting, possessing a pure, ethereal quality that seemed to lift the air around her. It was as though a choir of angels had descended to serenade her, each note resonating with a sublime harmony that touched her soul deeply. The emotion in your singing was palpable, each phrase imbued with love and tenderness that transcended the physical distance between you.
Listening to you sing for the first time was an overwhelming experience for Alexia. The sound of your voice, rich and warm, wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, soothing the ache of separation with its intimate and heartfelt expression. It was as if every word you sang was meant just for her, a musical love letter that conveyed the depth of your feelings and the profound connection you shared.
The piano’s melody danced beneath your voice, creating a perfect backdrop that enhanced the beauty of your singing. Each note seemed to echo the emotions you had shared in your message, amplifying the feelings of joy, longing, and affection. Alexia found herself completely absorbed in the moment, the combination of your voice and the music creating a magical, almost surreal experience.
As the song progressed, Alexia’s heart swelled with a mix of awe and affection. The tears that had been brimming in her eyes now flowed freely, a testament to the emotional impact of your performance. The beauty of your voice and the personal nature of the song made her feel incredibly close to you, despite the physical distance. It was a profound reminder of the love that awaited her and the shared journey you were about to embark on together.
-----
“Are you happy, amor?” Alexia asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of nervousness and vulnerability. She stood above you, her elegant dress rustling softly as she fidgeted with the fabric, her fingers betraying the anxiety she was feeling despite her radiant smile.
You cracked an eye open, intending to tease her, but the earnest concern in her eyes made you pause. “Alexia Putellas, you did not just ask me if I am happy on my wedding day?” The question was playful, but beneath the teasing tone, you could sense a deeper emotional undercurrent.
Alexia’s eyes widened, and she bit her lip, clearly anxious. “So … you have no remordimientos? No, what’s the phrase … um … c-cold…” She hesitated, searching for the right words.
“Cold feet?” you asked, a small laugh escaping you despite the sincerity of the moment.
“Sí, no cold feet?” She looked down at you nervously, her teeth sinking into her lip as she scanned your face
“Ale, where is this coming from?”
She took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t want you to regret marrying me. I do not think I could take it if you did.” The confession was delivered with such raw honesty that it tugged at your heartstrings.
You reached out, gently taking her hands in yours, feeling the slight tremor in her fingers. “Ale, you are the absolute love of my life. I stood up in front of all our friends and family and promised you that I will love you until my dying breath, and probably long after that too.”
Your voice was steady and filled with unwavering conviction. “There’s no question, no doubt in my mind. This day, the promise I made, this life we’re starting together is everything I’ve ever wanted. There’s no room for regrets, only endless love and joy.”
Seeing the relief flood over Alexia’s face, you pulled her into a tender embrace. The warmth and sincerity of your words seemed to melt away the last traces of her apprehension, replacing it with a profound sense of reassurance.
“As you held her close, Alexia's shoulders relaxed, and she nuzzled into the comfort of your embrace. “I’m sorry, amor,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I just … I had a dream last night. It was about something Mapí said years ago, something about how some people don’t realise they didn’t want to get married until they are actually in the midst of it. And, and, and I don’t even know why it popped into my head last night, but it did, and I just needed to make sure that you don��t regret marrying me.” Her words tumbled out in a rush, her accent thicker than usual
Your heart ached at the sight of her distress, understanding how deeply this fear had affected her. You cupped her face gently, lifting her chin to meet your gaze. “Ale, I could never, ever regret marrying you. You are my best friend, the love of my life, my person.” The certainty in your voice was unwavering, each word imbued with the depth of your commitment and affection. “There’s nothing that could ever change how I feel about you. I chose you, now and forever, and nothing will ever make me question that decision.”
Alexia nodded, her blonde curls bouncing softly with each movement, creating a delicate halo of warmth around her face. Her eyes, filled with affection and vulnerability, met yours. “Te amo mi esposa,” she murmured, her voice carrying a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with love.
You smiled warmly, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over you. “And I love you, my beautiful, if not a little silly sometimes, wife.” The playful comment brought a soft roll of her eyes, a gesture that only made you love her more. Her playful exasperation was part of what made your relationship so special – each quirk and each moment of shared humor was a testament to the deep bond you both cherished.
With a gentle sigh, she looked at you with a mix of hope and anticipation. “Will you sing for me?” she asked quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. The request was simple but filled with the intimacy and closeness of your shared moments. It was a tender plea for comfort and connection, and it touched you deeply.
You nodded with a reassuring smile, understanding the comforting power of a familiar song. “Let’s get into bed, baby,” you said softly, guiding her gently toward the bed. “I’ll sing you a lullaby, yeh?”
235 notes · View notes
onlyangel4 · 1 day ago
Text
onlyangel4 1k event - P3. gr63. ab23. SMAU.
trope: soft launch
pairing: alex albon x george russell x reader
faceclaim: maia mitchell
1k event
alexalbon posted a story tagging georgerussell
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written: catching up with this one
georgerussell posted a story tagging alexalbon
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written: drinks with al before heading off for the triple header
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y/ninsta posted a story
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written: first fit of the weekend, so ready to support pookie
f1wags
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 73,348 others
f1wags: for his first time since joining f1 george has been accompanied while entering the paddock. actress y/n y/ln was pictured entering the vegas paddock with him ready for media day
view all 5,284 comments
user1: alex albon found screaming crying and throwing up
user2: i bet alex is gutted
user3: my dreams of alex x george have been ruined
user4: everyone talking about alex when we really need to discus how gorgeous y/n is
user5: fr, well done mister george russell
mercedesupdates
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liked by user6, user7, user8 and 23,283 others
mercedesupdates: guys george and y/n are the cutest couple ever, george was asked about her in press today and he answered, "yes we have been dating for over a year and i thought vegas would be the perfect place to show her off to the rest of the world, she is the best and i'm sure the fans are going to love her almost as much as i do"
view all 3,292 comments
user6: did anyone see the way alex was smiling so much when george was talking about y/n he is so happy for george it is so cute
user7: george is smitten
user8: they are so fucking cute, it makes me feel sick
georgerussell posted a story tagging y/ninsta
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written: p1 in qualifying today all because i have my lucky charm
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: race day baby
f1updates posted a story
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written: alex albon has been forced to dnf after issues with the car
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williamsupdates posted a story
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written: y/n ran to go and comfort alex albon after his dnf, i wonder if george knows how close they are
f1wags posted a story
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written: y/n and george celebrating his win
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georgerussell
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liked by landonorris, logansargeant, y/ninsta and 1,293,283 others
tagged: alexalbon. y/ninsta.
georgerussell: convinced that winning was influenced by having my two favourite people by my side this weekend.
view all 198,283 comments
alexalbon: i think that was all your skill, we are so proud of you
y/ninsta: what he said
y/ninsta: think i need to come to more race weekends
alexalbon: please give me some of that race luck my love
landonorris: you three have broken my twitter
y/ninsta: ipad kid
user9: oh my god this is the hard launch of the century
user10: this is so insane
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
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@formulaal
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163 notes · View notes
bloggerspam · 2 days ago
Text
I'm a dummy and have fucked up the reblogs.
So I'm going to fix that and delete the incorrect posts so that the chapters are all in one place in the correct order. Please bear with me and I'm sorry for any confusion....
===
Gotham is unusually sunny, which works in Steph's favor by providing ample lighting.
Steph adjusts herself, posing just a little against a streetlight behind her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She smooths down her skirt, her favorite black denim pencil skirt that makes her legs look long, for the millionth time. Her oversized jean jacket and fitted purple turtleneck keep her warm as she waits impatiently beside an equally posed Jason.
He's decided to cross his arms and casually lean back against Danny's bike, wearing a tight black thermal henley that really doesn't do anything to hide his muscles. His jeans look painted on, and his leather jacket is tucked safely in her car, parked a little ways away.
They're both pretending they're not acting like peacocks.
It's mostly working.
She's entirely grateful that Sam decided to bail the two troublemakers out, rather than Jason and Steph having to beg. Sibling solidarity can go a long, long way when cute boys and girls are involved, but it's better to err on the safe side when your main antagonist is your pesky nosy cop of a brother.
…Not that Steph's a Wayne by any means, but still. It counts.
The sound of bickering, familiar voices cause their nerves of waiting to turn into the nerves of anticipation.
"Fenton I swear to Clockwork I will end you if this happens again!!" Val's smooth baritone rasp is threatening, and even though it's playful, it still brings shivers down Steph's spine.
"What makes you think it'll happen again?" Danny challenges, Jason perking up beside her like a puppy.
"Because I know you, you dolt." Val growls, both of them coming into view now, "I bet you've already got plans on a better version knocking around in that empty head of yours!"
And fuck. Val's wearing a loose yellow crop top and low rider jeans, and with the way she jostles about with Danny, Steph can see a little peak of her abs every time she reaches up. Steph licks her lips at the flash of the other woman's dark skin, wants to bite at the pouch she's got going on that Steph knows means she's packing practical muscle.
Steph really, really wants to get her mouth on that woman ASAP.
If only Val would actually use said god damn muscles and pick up on the damn hints Steph's been leaving, that would be phenomenal.
"Just because you're right doesn't mean—oh!" Danny pauses, causing Val to stutter stop with him reflexively.
"Bossman?" Val squints, before her eyes widen, "Steph? Is that…Danny's bike?"
Jason puffs up his chest, proud, looking especially pleased when Danny beams and rushes towards them to check over his baby. It puts Danny all up in Jason's business, who refuses to step away probably for that purpose. Damn him, but he's smooth.
"Did you guys bail out the bike for him?" Val asks, smile soft as she comes to stand next to Steph, "You really didn't have to, Danny's not worth all that trouble."
"Oh, it was no big." Steph shrugs, peering down at Val through her eyelashes as best she can, "Between you and met? It didn't cost a penny." She winks. "We heard from a little birdy Danny quite likes bad boys."
"Yeah?" Val smirks, and gods is it hot, "And you totally didn't go along with it to, oh, I don't know, egg him on?"
Steph giggles, giggles like a schoolgirl! Ugh. She can't with herself sometimes. "Hey, who says he didn't need my expert help? I'm a beast with a lock pick you know."
Wait. That's not a normal thing to brag about. Abort! Abort!!
"Nice. I'm no slouch either, but I can't imagine it was easy." Val chuckles, shaking her head. "Which of you managed to crack Danny's security system? Your lockpicking skills extend to hacking too?"
…Apparently, it is a normal thing to brag about. Proceed as planned!
"We had a little help." Steph smiles her most winning smile, leaning a little into Val's space. The other girl's eyes widen, licking her lips, and Steph almost says fuck it, almost leans closer, if only—
"So I was thinkin' we could watch that new horror movie playin' at the threatre," Jason's voice is low, Steph almost misses it, if Val immediately swing her head towards him, "Carnage for Christmas, y'know, 'tis the season and all…"
Pouting at her missed opportunity, she looks over herself to see what the fuss is.
Danny is smiling helplessly up at Jason, who has a hand on the bike and is leaning over him close. They look snug, Danny fiddling nervously and looking besotted whilst Jason is eyeing Danny like he wants to eat him up.
Steph refuses to get jealous. Jason's got a head start, but that doesn't mean—
"Danny hates Christmas," To her credit, Val looks like she very much does not want to interrupt whatever is going on over there, "Plus, he's scared of ghosts."
Which. What?
Jason, mirroring her confusion, sputters. "But—I thought?" Jason's eye flick back and forth between a sheepishly embarrassed Danny and a reluctantly cockblocking Val. He settles on the safest thing to say. "Isn't Amity Park 'The Most Haunted Town in America'?"
Both Amity Parkers nod with a grimace.
"Aren't your parents ghost hunters?" Steph asks, though she regrets it when both of them stare at her with hard eyes.
"We never told you my last name." Danny's voice quavers, and he backs up just a tiny bit. "…Did you look into me?" Jason's expression crumbles, just that tiny bit, reaching over only to stop and bring his hand back when Danny flinches.
You mean his bully and his stalker? Sam had said. Fuck.
Steph and Jason both try to say no, only—only they did. Thankfully, Val steps in.
"Danny, they're Waynes." Her voice is forcefully calm. "It would be weirder if they didn't look into you."
That, thank all the fucking gods, does the trick. Steph bites her lip from refuting her Wayne status, watching tensely as Danny starts to cautiously relax, no longer looking like he's ready to bolt at any minute.
"Right." Danny breathes, relaxing enough to lean back into Jason's personal bubble, "Right, of course."
Steph and Jason silently resolve to give Val an expensive gift and a raise, respectively.
"Where did you find out about his parents?" Val asks, still in that forceful calm, silently urging them to…what, give a good excuse?
"From us, guard dog. Breathe a little." Sam's voice sounds out from the police station. "Not that I blame you, but we promise Danny is safe."
It's an odd thing to say, a concerning thing. She can tell Jason's already made a mental note to figure that shit out pronto. Boy's definitely gotten attached.
"Long time no see!" Tucker grins, waving at the four of them, "Sorry we took so long, that brother of yours had a lotta questions and Sam was not having it."
"ACAB." Sam deadpans, rolling her eyes and startling laughter out of Steph and Jason.
"He's not even supposed to be here," Steph rolls his eyes, "He usually works over in Bludhaven."
"He gave us some bull about police officer exchanges," Jason adds on, "which neither of us bought."
Danny relaxes all the way now, darting up a glance as a softly smiling Jason (gag) and even daringly leaning a shoulder against him. Jason preens.
"Wait go back," Val squints suspicious eyes at Tucker, "What do you mean long time no see?"
"It was a joke," Tucker's smile goes sly, "We met yesterday, committed our first crime in Gotham together and everything."
"Even got ice cream to celebrate" Sam smirks, "Swapped stories."
Danny looks up at Jason, wide eyes sad and mouth pouty, "You committed crime and got ice cream without us?"
Steph watches as Jason try to placate Danny, who is clearly joking and not having it, and feels all kinds of jealous and happy for him.
It just reminds her that she's gotta get going, so she leans just that little bit closer to Val, who is focused on Sam.
"What kind of stories?" Val crosses her arms, which. Delicious. Steph wants to bite them. Maybe Steph has an oral fixation.
She's okay with that. Hopefully Val is too.
"Oh…you know," Tucker drawls out, taking his sweet time, "Like how Danny's parents are ghost hunters turned ecto-biologists, a little bit about the ghosts and our town heroes…"
"…maybe a little bit about the Phan Club," Sam adds, not so innocently, "And how you were obsessed with Martina William's buck teeth in Junior Year because you thought they made her so cute, like Bugs Bunny—"
That seems to be the last straw. Val lunges.
Sam and Val chase each other, another, less monkey'd version of how Danny and Val brawled together.
It gave Steph more opportunity to observe their fighting styles, do a little more guesswork on the mystery that was Amity Park.
Danny liked to throw things, reliant on his apparent strength. Not for the first time, Steph wondered if Danny was a meta, if this was further proof that maybe Danny was Phantom, the blurry, hazmatted hero of Amity Park.
Val liked to flip and trip people up, even now, she was hooking her feet and flipping over objects on the street. She's been filmed on all sorts of security cameras, but her background doesn't discount her as Red Huntress, the newer hero that seemed antagonistic towards Phantom. Steph's not sure though, there isn't a lot of overlap beyond that in their fighting styles, and maybe it's the suit but Huntress' body type looked more svelte.
Sam, apparently, liked to use the other's momentum against them, stepping out and pushing against already moving limbs to twist them all around, topsy turvy. When Val went low to sweep a foot under, Sam stepped back and kicked it, turning Val all the way around and giving Sam a wide opening to the other girl's back, easy pickings
Steph squinted. Red Huntress liked to use weapons, so it was harder to really cement a fighting style, but she's seen Huntress use that move in one of the clips Babs sent over. And Sam was a little more on the petite side...
…Was Sam Red Huntress?
"You guys really like to brawl, huh." Steph said absently, trying to see if she could make any other connections.
"Everyone in Amity Park knows at least a little somethin' about brawling." Tucker shrugs, "It'd be hard not to, Most of the older generations were really into self-protection of any kind, even before the ghosts came around."
"Mom's a 9th degree black belt and Dad does judo," Danny agrees, "Jazz, my sister, took to Krav Maga like a duck to water, but got Dad's terrible aim."
"What about you?" Jason asks, peering at Danny's arms, no doubt remembering Danny's ease in tossing Val clear across a room and probably drooling about it. "Judo?"
Danny blushed, but it was Tucker that answered. "Danny's a whiz with weapons." He grinned a sharp little grin, "And yeah, he knows a lil' somethin' about judo. He's stronger than he looks."
Danny scratched the back of his neck, bashfully, "Mom was a little disappointed about the Krav Maga, I just don't have the head for it, but she perked right up when she found out I was good at handlin' guns."
Jason's eyes flared, and he leaned in a little closer with a gleam to his eye, voice so low Steph could scoop it up from the god damn floor. "Yeah?"
Ugh. Someone gag her. This does put the Phantom thing a little on the grayer side, since the 'ghost' hero relied more on their punches.
Steph shakes her head to clear her thought, looking hopefully over at where Sam and Val were still at it. She sighed, but turned back with a smile anyway. "And Val?"
"Val's dad works in Security," Danny's ears are so very red from Jason's attentions, "She's got some history in Hapkido, or was it Taekwondo?"
"Explains all the kicks," Jason whistles, "And all of Amity Park's like that?"
"Nobody realized how weird it was to have PE just be a karate class until Sam came around." Tucker continues, gesturing to the girls, "She came to town later, but she's also kind of good at most physical things."
"She's kicked my butt too many times to count," Danny grumbles, "Aikido is tricky to handle."
"At least you can keep up." Tucker rolls his eyes. "Leave some talent for the rest of us."
"Says the resident tech genius." Danny scoffs, but wisely keeps it at that when tucker rolls his eyes. "Besides, you're passable at guns."
"Passable," Tucker mocks, "Gee thanks."
The more she hears about Danny, the more she thinks he's too good for Jason. But then again, he also seemed perfect for him, so Steph called it a wash.
"So about that movie?" Jason decided to change the subject, probably impatient to get loverboy to himself. "We could watch something else, if Christmas or scary movies aren't your thing."
"The new Venom is out," Danny perked right up, turning towards Tucker for some reason, "We've been meaning to see that, right?"
"Uh," Tucker hesitates, gaze wide and frantic as it darts between Danny and Jason, "Y-yeah, buddy but I think—"
"The Marvel movies are one of the few movie franchises we can all agree on," Danny explains, turning back to Jason and looking up brightly, "We usually wait to watch on stream or something, but…" Danny bites his lip shyly, voice quieting, "…maybe we can watch it theatre just this once?"
Jason looks like he's trying his damnedest to not look disappointed, which—Steph feels for him, really. She and Tucker share a look, trying to figure out how to delicately navigate out of this disaster.
"Actually, I was thinking of—" Steph tries, only to be interrupted by a loud boom!
All six of them stiffen, bracing themselves and looking for the source. Those stories about Amity Park being a less Gothic version of Gotham is starting to hold water.
"Hello, Gotham!" A familiar grating voice echoes, "Welcome to my funtime jamboree!"
"Which one is this guy?" Val asks, still looking for the rogue.
"It's Riddler," Steph and Jason say at the same time.
Val groans, Sam rolling her eyes as the boys for some reason cheer.
"There are several bombs hidden throughout Gotham," Riddler continues over the police speaker system, "And each of them require some…shall be say creative problem solving!"
Steph gets tugged by the arm, pulled away before can even think about a way to separate naturally and disappear with Jason.
"Val?" Next to her, Jason has being herded by Sam, as Danny and Tucker conspire together over what looks like an old, beat up PDA.
"Danny and Tucker love escape rooms," Val explains, face scrunched up cutey in distaste, "I've been dragged to too many to count—"
"Wait—Riddler is too dangerous for citizens to—" Jason starts, trying to turn around to grab Danny, but is pushed forward by a surprisingly strong Sam.
"Yes, yes," Sam rolls her eyes, "We know, civilians etcetera and all that. Don't worry."
Steph and Jason try to argue, but are summarily stuffed into Steph's car—when did Val pick pocket her keys? Why is that so hot?
Before either of them can comprehend, Steph's been buckled into the driver's seat, Jason in the passenger, with the car somehow running.
The doors slam, and when both of them look through the passenger window, Sam has Tucker and Val in a rental car with her, Danny on his ecto-bike, already driving off.
Towards the commotion.
Steph and Jason share a look.
"What the fuck just happened?" Steph asks, stupefied.
"I didn't get Danny's number." Jason answers, equally confused but still buckling up and putting in a comm, "And you didn't even get to flirt."
"Hey!" Steph defends, putting in her own comm, "I'm not the one whose date thought they were asking the whole group to the movies!"
"Just drive," Jason growls, but it's lost in the sound of Steph revving her engine and their comms bursting into life with Babs' commanding voice and Duke's cheery timbre.
Riddler first, then dates.
Hopefully.
Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.
ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)
Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)
also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.
===
Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.
She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 
The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.
To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 
She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.
She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 
Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 
Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 
So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 
Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 
All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 
It's the little things.
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paigeluvvr · 2 days ago
Text
roles switched
summary: paige let you guys switch roles
warnings: SMUTTT!! fingering giving head hair pulling squirting strap on sex overstimulation
paige x reader
you and your girlfriend was going out tonight with her teammates. you didn’t want to go but the thought of drinking got you. “babe you almost ready?” paige asks you coming into talks shared bedroom. “yeah i’m done, how do i look?” you ask paige “fucking amazing baby, can i have a 360?” you understand why she would want this because you are literally dressed like a slut right now. “yeah” you say as you begin to turn around. she grabs your ass while your in the middle of turning. “now can i have a kiss?” “you don’t have to ask.” paige says and kisses your lips.
the bar has this energy that is booming and you can see, smell, and hear it. so you know there will be a headache coming in sooner or later. so you go to the bar and order you and paige’s drink. “how can i help you ma’ma?” the bartender asked you. “um can i have a shirley temple and a vodka soda.” “yes i will have that right with you miss.” “thank you.”
you go back to the booth they are all at to give paige her drink and sit down. “here you go baby.” she looks at you surprised “thank you baby but i didn’t have to buy this for me.” she tells you. “i know i just wanted to do something nice.” she gets out of her seat to kiss you on the lips.
“babyyy” paige comes to your seat and you can already tell she had way more drinks then needed. “yes baby?” you say to her “can we leave i’m starting to feel sick and i have a headache.” she tells you and you feel bad because she looks as what she says. “aww baby yes we can leave, do you want to tell the girls bye?” you ask her. “no can you just text them i don’t fell good.” you tell her ok and yall walk out of the bar.
“baby i don’t feel so goo-.” paige tells you before she throws up into a trash can. “paige baby are you okay?” you ask her and she keeps throwing up. after what felt like hours she finally says “ok baby now we can actually leave.” so you walk her to the car and she says she ok to drive and you trust her. “baby can i have a kiss?” “i would love too but you just vomited everywhere so no sorry.”
yall are back at home for about an hour when paige says “baby can you top me tonight?” you looked at her surprised because you didn’t think she would let you top her. “um yeah if you want me to.” you tell her and she gets supper happy. “yay i can’t wait.” she tells you and that is what makes you say “we can do it tonight right now.” “oh my god yes!” she tells you as you get up and drag her to yalls shared bedroom to fuck her. “baby i need you so baddd.” paige tells you. “really how bad?” you ask her and she shoves her boxers down to show you how bad. “oh my gosh p your soaked.” “i know ma that’s how bad i want you and how much you turn me on.” she says so you waste no time in pushing her down on the bed. “OH FUCK!” paige says as you suck on her clit. “does that fell good baby?” you tease paige and she nods but you won’t accept that. “words baby.” “ye-s fuck it fe-els so go-od.” she says so you go faster. “oh god.” you can tell she’s close because her moans are turning into screams. “i’m cummin-g s-o hard.” she is now gushing in your face and her hands are pulling your hair so hard it might bleed. “good girl.” you tell her has she sits up and your up too.
you come back from the closet with a black box that you and her know to well. “ma i hope you don’t think your fucking me with that.” she says to you. “baby yes i am i’m topping you so i get choose what i do.” you tell her because you do have control so you strip out of your clothes and attach the harness on your waist. you waste no time in shoving the strap into her cunt so she lets out a cute little squeal. “baby!” you start slow so she can get use to the feeling. now that she is used to the feeling you are plowing into her at a pace that is deadly.
“oh god!” paige says as you pound into her like you’ve been doing for the past 15 minutes. she has already came 7 times going in her eighth according to her. “you gonna cum again?” you ask her teasing her. “y-eah.” she says and you can feel how tight she is so you pull out of her edging her. “baby why did you stop.” she asks you so you say “wait baby.” you get off the bed and head over to your bed side table that has a drawer full of vibrators. you pull out the biggest one and he eyes widened but your already putting it on the highest setting and placing it on her clit. “it’s too much.” she tells you and you don’t care. “i’m gon-na cum!” and just like that she is gushing and you notice something else. paige bueckers just squirted on you. “holy shit am i pissing?” she asks you and you laugh. “no baby you squirted that was hot.” she turns red from that.
after yall clean up and stuff yall lay back down. “goodnight baby i love you.” you tell her “goodnight ma i love you more and can you top me more?” she asked which earns a slap on the arm. “owwww”
finally finished this after forever…😫
taglist: @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @paiges-1vur @avvwritesstufff @moshuka @paigebueckersmommy @azzibuckets @writingbuckets @ohbueckers @cosmopretty @bbydoll18xx @pb524830 @pbnbucks
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icanseethefuture333 · 8 hours ago
Text
PAC 18+: how to walk ‘em like a dog 🦮🎀🐆
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“Back to the kitty, ‘cus she kinda pretty
Couldn’t stop lookin’ at her ti-ti-ti— face!
Me and cat mama rolled into the distant fog
Little did she know, I’m a nasty dog.”
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Pile 1:
Shufflemancy -
Pussy Talk by City Girls ft. Doja Cat
Kehlani by Jordan Adetunji
The Zone by The Weeknd
Ten of Cups, Six of Cups, Five of Swords, Make An Altar, Chanting, Use Your Hands, Camera, Mirror, & The Grim Reaper
Hey pile,1 😝. The person who wishes for you to walk them like a dog admires you so much, they might even over romanticize you in their head, to them, you fulfill their fantasies. They think about you in different positions and wonder how your hands feel on them 😮‍💨. They get hard/wet just by the thought of you alone. I believe you show that to this person as well, you could tease them often or like to give them a show whenever you walk past them. “P*ssy talented it do cartwheels and he pay cus he like how that part feels, p*ssy give speeches, heart felt, say the p*ssy really talk like it Garfield (it do)” 😅 oh god, I think this person is obsessed with the sounds your bodies make during sex, they are heavily infatuated with you. “I like the way your body is, is that too obvious? Okay I like your confidence, oh that’s what good karma, like kehlani is, bad just like kehlani is.” This person desires to be fair in the bedroom, they want to cum with you, pile 1. This might be someone you’ve known since childhood, your first love, or an ex that you met when you were young. You could be playful and mischievous in the bedroom, but also like to take the lead. Switch vibes are prominent in this pile. You and your person like to give and take. You could be a brat and they want to be your brat tamer. If you follow each other, this person has been watching your stories on social media, I feel like you post risqué photos for them and wonder if it’s working 👀 trust me it has, cus they have been getting it off to your pictures in secret 🤫… This person definitely worships your body and your beauty.
Full reading on my patreon
Pile 2:
Shufflemancy -
Goodies by Ciara ft. Petey Pablo
Slumber Party by Ashnikko ft. Princess Nokia
Bimbo Doll by Tila Tsoli ft. BJ Lips
King of Wands, King of Cups, Knight of Cups, Watch A Movie, Massage, Rest, Talking, Keys on a Ring, & Love Call
I love how hyper feminine my pile 2 is 🎀! You guys are so popular and have so many options in your dating life. People think that you are so cute but in a tempting way. Do you dress y2k, mcbling, or coquette? Whatever your style might be, people think it looks so hot on you. You could attract both girls and guys with your looks, especially older guys. “You may look at me and think that I’m just a young girl but I’m not just a young girl. Baby this is what I’m lookin for - sexy, independent, gotta spend it type for gettin his dough. I’m not being too dramatic that’s just how I gotta have it. I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it.” You know your worth and don’t settle for less, despite your sweet appearance you know you give people a run for their money. People even wish to give you their money. Are you a sugar baby? If not, you should become one, you’d be very successful. I have a feeling you have people wrapped around your pretty finger. Others desire to spoil you with gifts and money. Dare I say I see this pile being with both a woman and a man (maybe even at the same time?)👀. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress up in my house, I gave your girlfriend c*nnilingus on my couch. She cute, kawaii, hentai boobies that excite me. I think she really likes me, ask politely, can I - woo ooh ooh (slumber party).” Two people wish to initate things with you but you have total control over the situation. Your features really entice people, you could have doe eyes, big lips, nice boobs, and a cute butt. When you talk, this person(s) doesn’t know where to focus their eyes, they get so nervous around you and have to control themselves from getting too intense with the conversation. They also really wish to hear you dirty talk to them. Your voice is a a major turn on to this peoples, it’s giving phone sex operator level of skill lol. As I was typing “hear”, I accidentally spelled “head” so they definitely want to see your lips on their d*ck/p*ssy as well😚.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 3:
Shufflemancy -
Get On Your Knees by Nicki Minaj ft. Ariana Grande
Distraction by Kehlani
Rocket by Beyoncé
Eight of Pentacles, Seven of Wands (reversed), Nine of Cups, Sex, Abundance Planning, Deep Breathing, The Sword and The Rose, Not Today, & Clock
PHEW 😮‍💨 don’t hurt em now, pile 3. This is my dominant pile. You guys know how to take charge in the bedroom. This person wants to be at your mercy. I’m talking having you on top and riding them as hard as you can or them getting on their knees to beg at your feet. This person actually wants to be walked like a dog lol. They are very submissive and like pain. I feel like you know this as well 😂! You have so much control over them and they want you to know you run this relationship. I feel you and this person are already together or have a thing going on, if not I see things progressing sexually pretty fast. This might be a tinder date situation. “Get on your knees, get on your knees, baby just get on your knees. Say pretty please, pretty please, pretty please. Baby just say pretty please” you could like to use this person as a stress reliever. The sex would be slow and intense. “Do me a favor, pick me up, take me out later. Don't worry about no paper cus I got much stacked up for nights like this” I see that you’re a hard working person and don’t have time to be in a committed relationship but value trust, loyalty, and honesty. This person provides that safe space for you and allows you to express your flaws in peace. You don’t have to be perfect and fake a smile like you usually have to do in professional settings. I see that this person really wishes to be with you in a romantic way but doesn’t want to rush or force things on you if they know you have other responsibilities to tend to. It’s reminding me of Nani and David from Lilo & Stitch. David had a huge crush on Nani but due to her focusing on needing to be there for Lilo and being a provider, she didn’t have time to acknowledge his feelings until later she was settled in her career. I see that you are grateful towards this person and attracted to their emotional intelligence.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 4:
Shufflemancy -
Blah Blah Blah by Kesha ft. 3OH!3
Please me by Cardi B ft. Bruno Mars
Dip It Low by Christina Milian
The Chariot, Seven of Swords, Ten of Wands, Pleasure, Flow Like Water, Hydrate, Addiction, Date, & The Phoenix
Heyyy, pile 4 😉. I see that this person got you down bad lol but not to worry since the feeling is mutual. I feel that you came on to this person before they even did. You could be an extrovert while this person is an introvert. They’re very reserved and are careful with how they express themselves. You might flirt with this person while they’re on the job or when they’re focusing in class. They like to pretend they are disinterested in your advances to see how much you’re willing to keep going after them. It could stroke their ego a little bit knowing someone as “cute” as you likes them (I heard an emphasis on the word “cute”). You could be feeling confused on whether or not they like you back and it results in you feeling pouty about the situation. This connection could be relatively new but this person is wanting to explore how things go! This person could want to tease you a lot or perhaps even degrade 🫠. They might like to talk shit playfully just to get under your skin. For some reason I feel like this person likes to make you mad 💀 they can be really annoying. They like when you tell them to shut up or put them in their place. If you yelled at them even and kissed this person the next, they would live for that shit. They’re kinda toxic honestly 😂. “blah, bl-bl-blah, blah, blah. Coming out'cha mouth with'cha blah, blah, blah. Zip your lip like a padlock (Yeah) and meet me in the back with the Jack at the jukebox (back, back). I don't really care where you live at, just turn around, boy, let me hit that. Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat just show me where your d*ck’s at”. This person really enjoys your banter and despite being so hard on you they really only have a soft spot for you, I heard “that’s my baby” 🥹☺️. Pile 4, you must have a great ass as well 🍑. This person looks at your physique when you’re not looking, they really want to know what it feels like to have your body pressed against them. “Please me, baby. Turn around and just tease me, baby. You know what I want and what I need, baby. (Let me hear you say) Please” this person’s energy is honestly all over the place 💀 they’re just so horny lol. This person wants you *london accent* BAD, man.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 5:
Shufflemancy -
Lolly by Maejor ft. Justin Bieber & Juicy J
Walk Like This by FLO
Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado ft. Timbaland
Seven of Pentacles, Page of Cups, The Star (reversed), Plan A Meal, Nourish Your Temple, Music, Love, Passion, & Photograph
Ooo wee, pile 5🫣🤭, when I say this person has a biiiiig 📦 for you. This person has very masculine energy, almost giving fuckboy/frat guy vibes 😂. They could be very fit and muscular with a nice smile, they know they’re fine and attract a lot of people towards them. There could be a height difference between you and this person. Their attraction to you is because of the stereotypical phrase “idk you’re just different”. They don’t have the exact reasons why they’re into you but they do like your creativity, mannerisms, and shy demeanor. This person could have a corruption kink 💀. They could want to see you break out of that good girl / good boy routine and try something new and risky. You and this person know of each other but don’t seem to be very close, perhaps they are in your friend circle or you guys are just acquaintances. They often have dirty thoughts of you giving them head and seeing how much you can take of them. This person could wine and dine you first before wanting to go down on you. “Order what you want, girl, it ain't no problem. I'ma tell the waitress that my baby need a bottle. Order what you want, said it ain't no problem. Got a piece of candy and it's all for you. She say she love my lolly. She wanna make it pop. She say she love my lolly. She wanna kiss the top”. They like sex that’s really rough and nasty, if it’s not messy and loud they’re not into it 😭. I see that they’re into positions like 69, cowgirl, and missionary. They’re big on seeing your face during sex, they get really cheeky about the good work they’re doing and would want to pin your hands down so you can beg for more. I do see jewelry and this person wearing chains🙂‍↔️. This person would be more so walking you like a dog but you have them on a leash in the sense you keep them coming back. They could have you walking funny after you’re done 🤭 you might be really sore the next day as well. “There's a reason I walk like this (I walk). My baby, he be lovin' on this (Oh yeah). When he do it, he be workin' that shit (Oh yeah) And every night he got me wantin' more of it”. You might feel confident and pleased after having sex with this person and can feel a sense of relief.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 6:
Shufflemancy -
Play With It by Tommy Genesis
Who Am I (What's My Name?) by Snoop Dogg
Girls Need Love by Summer Walker
The Fool (reversed), The Sun, Five of Cups (reversed), Write a Gratitude List, Take a Walk, Clean Your Space, Family, Not Enough, Ax, & Healing Heart
Pile 6, you still not over your ex, huh 😔? It’s ok, no judgment here, baby 🫶. I see you and your ex still have an attachment together, things might be on and off or you don’t really know where the direction of this relationship is headed towards. I see that you are a very caring person and because of miscommunication, you and this person seem to never be on the right foot. It’s possible some of you who picked this pile have a baby with this person or will get pregnant (please use protection if this isn’t what you want!). I see a lot of fertility going on in this pile, you and this person could prefer to make love or have sex as if you’re making a baby lol. This person could have a breeding kink? They get turned on by the idea of you being pregnant with their child. Whenever you wear sundresses that is also sexy to them. I feel like your body is so tea, pile 6. Either you’re really thick and curvy or your body is just gorgeous to people, especially your sp. This person fantasizes about doing it raw while you touch yourself in front of them. “Play wit' the p*ssy, wanna play wit' the p*ssy. Come get a hooky, baby, come get a hooky. I wanna fuck you, baby, I wanna fuck you. If we not fuckin', baby, come get it poppin'”. This person is scared to fully pursue because you seem to be in a place of healing in your life and doesn’t want to add to that. There is another person that is new coming who also wishes to take your ex’s spot 👀 Oop! I feel like this will be their friend who will make passes at you and this will make your sp really jealous lol. In the bedroom, their jealousy could make them more dominant and want to take control. There is a lot about wanting to hear you moan or scream their name. They can be very vocal too i'm getting a lot about hissing so maybe they hiss whenever you get their spot? PHEW- They could want to fuck you doggy style while they spank your ass. “She want the nigga with the biggest nuts, and guess what? He is I and I am him. Slim with the tilted brim, what's my motherfuckin' name? Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb). Snoop Doggy Dogg Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)” they can be really boastful after sex if they get you to cum and you can get annoyed by this lol. You might tell your person “it wasn’t even allat🙄” and they’ll tease you cus they know it was 😋. I see this person providing you with aftercare and massaging your back and feet. Even though you might not be together at the moment, this person really values you as a person and knows their place.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 7:
Shufflemancy -
Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) by Usher
JT Coming by JT
Huff n Puff by Red Velvet
Page of Swords, Knight of Wands (reversed), The Emperor, Be Still, Energy Work, Sync with the Moon, The Snake, Lightning, & Separation
Alright this is giving my queer pile 🥰, very androgynous energy all around here 😎. Regardless of what your gender might be, both you and this person are independent and like to have things a certain way. You could have met them through a dating app or while on a date with another person (Crazy work but ok 😂). I'm getting maybe someone is a bartender or works at some place where they have to socialize a lot. You and your sp are very flirtatious towards the other but someone gets super shy when it comes to compliments. This is for a select few of you but some of you might be transgender? Perhaps you are a trans man/woman and this person is cisgender. You might be nervous to be too flirty with them in case they might reject you but honestly i'm getting go for it baby, life is too short to be worrying about those things (just remember to be safe is all 🫶🏽). This person will be very polite and respectful towards you so just allow yourself to unwind when you go out with this person. "I ain't gotta do a lot of flexing (Uh-huh). Shorty, you already know what it is. Ha, and girl, tonight we gonna do a lot of sexin', yeah. Can't nobody do your body like this." They could be very forward and direct when it comes to communication they do not like beating around the bush, i'm getting someone likes to man spread a lot or you will notice that they sit with their legs open. Laaaawd when I tell you this person has a big 🍆 or owns one, they will have that shit ready for you LOLLL. This person gives big dick energy they're just very secure with themselves and how they carry on. You might feel insecure about some things and ask them "does this bother you?" or "do you find this attractive?" and they're gonna be like "yah" to everything. THEY MIGHT NOT EVEN GIVE A VERBAL RESPONSE TBH they just might nod their head or whatever and look at you like "is we fuckin' or what 😏🎶?". To them, these questions don't make sense like for example they would think "why wouldn't I like hip dips?" or "facial harmony? what the hell does that even mean? I don't care about that, I care about you." So if you are someone who compares themselves to people on the internet truuuust when I say this person is not chronically online to understand any of that shit. They like what they see and they just want to give it to you and more. "It's been a while since you gave, ho, it's time to give it up (Give it up). Like a bitch with a fresh BBL, you can't sit with us (Nah). Fine motherfucker, white boys say I rock (Hah). I gotta stay protected 'cause y'all stay on my c*ck. My new whip beautiful, I call it p*ssy whip. It was a gift, my nigga friends say he p*ssy whipped." Your sp might be older as well or very mature for their age.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 8:
Shufflemancy -
SHY GUY by Tinashe
Good For You by Selena Gomez ft. A$ap Rocky
Unfold by Alina Baraz
Seven of Swords, Five of Pentacles, The Star, Journal, Look for Fairies, Movement, Hammer, The Dragonfly, & Self-Indulgence
Aww this is my soft pile 🛌. I see that you guys are very spiritual and dreamy. You might fantasize a lot about this person. For some of you, you might even be manifesting them. I see that the feelings you have towards this person are very tender and loving. I see that this person is very flighty and doesn’t wish to have such a big commitment. This person you are interested could have ghosted you or there’s something wrong with your communication. Maybe you and this person have different time zones or a conflict of schedule. There’s something about the person not being there for you. “Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline (La, la, la, la). Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline. Shy guy (Guy, guy, guy, guy, guy)” I believe you are being too kind to this person and need to detach and allow them to chase you. Focusing on yourself and seeing other people will allow this person to show up for you and be the person that you need. Now is the time for you to be self indulgent and take care of yourself. Some of you should practice healing in the bedroom and should learn about what makes you feel good sexually. Perhaps exploring with new partners will help you find new things that provide pleasure. I see that you are very submissive or lean towards more vanilla. Try to vocalize what makes you feel good to your partner and be more assertive. Your energy reminds me of Jhené Aiko’s song “P*$$y Fairy”, very sensual but delicate. To this person if you were to show them your new found confidence, they will crumble to their knees and will feel stunned. They might ask you questions like “where did you learn this baby???” Or “have you been having fun without me?”. They really love how you taste 😳 this sp wants to pull your dress/skirt up or pants off and just go to town. Their favorite thing is when you’re all dolled up and getting ready to go out. “Gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight. Do my hair up real, real nice. And syncopate my skin to your heart beating. Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you. I just wanna look good for you, good for you. Let me show you how proud I am to be yours.” I’m seeing that they admire your facial expressions during sex for to them it’s too cute, something about makeup smudging? Things can get really messy 👀
Full reading on patreon
Pile 9:
Shufflemancy -
Come Alive by Jackson Wang
Earned It by The Weeknd
Swim by Chase Atlantic
Eight of Wands, Death, The Hanged One, Dance, Look to the Stars, Sound Healing, The Grim Reaper, Ascending, & Healthy Choices
When I tell you this pile is NASTYYY. It’s honestly crazy how much this person wants to match your freak, pile 9. Definitely saved best for last. The sex almost feels cinematic in a way. Something about this person just gives main character vibes that is so seductive you can’t turn your eyes away from them. I believe your relationship with this person could have progressed pretty fast. For some of you, you could have kissed or even had sex after the first date. While I also see that this is a friends with benefits situation (does someone have a contract?!). You could find them mysterious or wish to get to know them on a more interpersonal level. You could feel that these things are more surface level in terms of attraction and don’t want the intimacy to only be superficial. I see that this sp is charming and prefers to disclose things little by little. “I come alive. You start me up a million times. And I'm terrified. That you could leave me crying.” So this person could be afraid of opening up to you because they are nervous about getting their heart broken. They might have previously gotten out of a relationship and they are learning how to trust in a partner again. Your sp could be afraid of rejection and that's why they are disorganized in terms of how they want to pursue you. Providing this person with assurance will help them gain courage, also pile 9, make sure to do what's healthy for you, try not to overly devote your time to this person. I see that communicating with your partner and talking about how you have been feeling will want to open up more and trust you. Something about wearing lingerie in the bedroom is a major turn on for this person. Taking control and guiding this person will help allow them to let their guard down. "Cause girl, you're perfect (girl, you're perfect). You're always worth it (always worth it). And you deserve it (and you deserve it). The way you work it (the way you work it). 'Cause girl, you earned it, yeah (earned it). Girl, you earned it, yeah". Your sp would be over the moon for you.
Full reading on patreon
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shapelytimber · 2 days ago
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Wanted to paint some of my favorite characters, nothing more nothing less
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[COMMISSIONS]
Way too much yapping like an embarrassing amount, the individual portraits and the template I used below vvv
I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters- especially to people who (presumably) don't know them xjfkdk apart from the very popular ones ofc
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ILLYA KURYAKIN (The man from U.N.C.L.E)
gay ass little Russian spy I love him he is so *dramatic* and a huge nerd and a Beatles fan and into fashion design- perfect pocket size blorbo ;w; also seeing a Russian character being given a positive leading role in an American tvshow from the 60s ?? Yes he lives in New York and works for UNCLE America.... But he is still a communist ?? Incredible ! Also I really like the fact he isn't given the cliché personality traits often given to Russian characters i e anger issues drinks a lot violent ect (looking at you shitty(imo) modern remake... What did you do to my little guy ;;). In a close contest with Spock for the "gayest man from tvshow" of the 60s..... And in my heart he is winning djdkd for me the gay subtext of muncle hits so much more because it's not a scifi show- it's closer to home, Napoleon and Illya were *like that* in the present day of the 60s, they were both human, and no alien fuckery made them go to the village more than once or play house in the suburbs or get attached ass up to get pegged on a regular basis... Truly a show that feels written by an old queen and a guy with the biggest fem dom fetish jkvjjkb (don't get me wrong tho I adore star trek tos and spirk too <3)
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KUROO HAZAMA and PINOKO (Black Jack)
sometimes I rewatch some of the oavs from the 90s when I'm sad :) I had a huge phase a couple years back when I read nearly all the manga (should really finish it... Or reread the whole thing frankly), watched *all* the shows (bar young black jack, hated that shit) and idk I just love this venal bitch so much- him and his daughter and his conflicted feelings for his tboy ex that he still loves kfkfkf btw I'm dying for a modern take on this like please please please I'd love to see Kei Kisaragi's story rewritten a bit (trans character in the 70s sure was progressive but oh boy-), because him and black jack's relationship makes me so *weak*.... And maybe see him a bit more than in one story- anyway ! When it comes to his daughter Pinoko, it's very hit or miss- when the writers lean on the cute father adoptive daughter relationship it's great, when they lean more on the whole "she has a crush on him" (very much like a child in most case, and he *never* reciprocate thank god) and bring up the fact she is technically 18 a lot (she was an evil tumor trapped in her sister before he created a body for her- black jack shit dw), and she gets jealous of other women.... Well it's terrible and I'm uncomfy :(
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EVA KANT (Diabolik)
Look.... You just can't show me danger diabolik 1968 and not expect me to become insane djdkdkdk she is so cool ;; !!! Her and her devious eel of a man (here as a panther, because even tho I haven't read the comic yet, I'm taking an educated guess that all the panther imagery is here to represent him, the lethal twunk always in the all black gimp suit... And if it's not then fuck my entire life ig fjfkkd), the cuntiest het couple you've ever seen, such freaks I love them ! Partners in crime that will blow up the tax offices of the whole country if you try to put a bounty on them <3 they are in the guilty faves category only because I'm this invested in these characters after 1 (one) movie fkfkf watched the first two remakes and was hmmm let's say underwhelmed, could have been worse but going after the 60s one ie peak cinema was hard... I went in fully invested in these heterosexuals and they still fucked up their romance and relationship ;; (don't spoil me the third one btw haven't seen it yet ! I know it's the yaoi one- which doesn't give me much hope for Eva tbh...) I'll soon start reading the comics tho ! Managed to find all twelve volumes of "Il grande Diabolik" in french for pretty cheap so I'm excited for that :D (might scan them and upload them online because omg I tried finding scans in *any* language and only found a dubious website that sold digital copies for 7€ a volume ??? What is this)
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UTA (The Void / Тургор / Turgor / Tension)
Apathy girlyyyyy she just like me for real for real nfkfk what absolutely charmed me about her is yes her design, but more importantly her chamber's design (if you've never played the void, a sister's chamber is a space that represent her. You get a sense of who she is by exploring her chamber before finding her and talking to her soul it's great). The lonely island out at sea, her laying down on a suspended steel boat in a grotto, looking passively at the moon by a crack on the ceiling.... And the moon is looking back. Incredible ! I love this game so much
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KIM KITSURAGI (Disco Elysium)
Do I really have to explain this one ? When I played the game with quiji I remember I kept saying "when Kim talks, we *listen*" djkdk we did get a good grade in Kim Kitsuragi and got him to dance in the church <3 this fucking centrist cop wormed it's way into my heart and many others because of course he did. The only Kim K in my eyes. Also funny anecdote : before I played Disco Elysium, I had one concept art masterclass where a kinda famous concept artist came to give advice, make us really stressed then give us a shitty grade.... And when I tell you this man looked so much like Kim ??? Same haircut, glasses, face with a scar *exactly* where Kim's portrait has a stark shadow on his cheek and he was dressed in an orange top- truly uncanny. Anyway, Kim is so fucking cool how does he do it
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DARK VADOR (La guerre des étoiles)
*sight* not surprising if you know me... and to be clear when I say Vader I don't mean Anakin Skywalker, post barbecue only zouz here. I refuse to yap about this man djdkdk I already do that way to much in ao3 comment sections
And here is the template I used ! Don't know who made it tho sorry...
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PS : all these where made in 2-3 hours each :D wanted to challenge myself by painting quickly, and I mostly (looking at the Eva Kant one that gave me trouble) succeeded !
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monamipencil · 2 days ago
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🧍‍♀️i can't even describe my emotional state rn
i was so happy to read pt.2. i thought it'd be happy. v, you weren't lying when you said angst, no comfort. THIS HURTS. THIS IS SO ANGSTY BUT ALSO SO SOFT, AND I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TYPE OF EMOTION I FEEL ATP
but my god, your writing skills??? i love that so much. and i love LOVE your world building. this was so fun to read. i can't wait to read more from you!!
annotations;
avoiding his reflection in the mirror as usual.
oooh, this makes me curious
Upon the first splash of water hitting his face, he thought of you. It was inevitable. The image of you sitting on the ground, surrounded by trees. That night, he left you for good. That night nothing made sense.
🧍‍♀️it does make sense honey, you're just in denial.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.” He recoiled, shaking his head and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of you. But your last words to him were a curse, echoing inside him every night, refusing to leave.
ow ow ow, ok. that cut, deep.
How come he did not think that by killing every single demon within the town’s radar he was putting a target on you for other hunters?
since when have you used your brain? (yes im insulting him, how dare he?)
Jeonghan missed you.
THIS IS ANGSTY BUT ALSO SOFT AHHHHHH
The pull. The feeling he got every time he closed his eyes, the need and deep craving for you that made him go insane. He let himself feel it. It tugged inside him, like a thread that was tied to his very core.
your descriptions >>>> i actually felt the pull. v, i love your writing
The same thigh he had been rubbing since he woke up. It made no sense.
IT MAKES SENSE, YOU IDIOT
A sheen layer of cold sweat covered your face and neck, breathing hard. “Fuck you,” you sighed when he stopped squeezing your flesh.
lmfao. i love her 🫶
“Why haven’t you fed?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand that he was reprimanding you.
he's worried.
“I’m not talking about human food,” he said with annoyance, shooting you a look that made you shrink in your seat. “Why haven’t you been feeding?”
HE'S WORRIED. eating my fist rn, this is soo ughhhh, adorable and heart breaking at the same time. idek what emotion im feeling atp.
You saw him walking away from the car, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his long hair tied in a messy ponytail.
PONYTAIL JEONGHAN ?!?!
You knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him. And you knew what it was.
this is ... domestic and soft.
With a sigh, you walked inside the room.  “One bed?” you turned to him with an exasperated look.
qsadfghjnmhngbfrdszghyjuhn, AHHHHHH-wait, you guys have fucked countless times.
Jeonghan frowned, not at you but at the thing stirring inside his chest. That feeling he got only when he was with you. “When is the last time you fed?”
HE'S WORRIED WHAT IF I THROW MYSELF OUT OF THE WINDOW
“You’ll die,” he sentenced after some seconds. “Are you insane?”
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me when a man does the bare minimum, but my bar is in hell.
“Why do you want to become human?” the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them.
oh ... 🧍‍♀️she's down bad
Jeonghan had never seen a demon cry, let alone one that wanted to become human. It made no sense.
IT MAKES SENSE HEXSBKNDFMGFHGVFCDSFGH YOU IDIOT
“Is that necessary?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he sank under the covers with you.
lmfao, this guy is slick
He found himself entirely pressed to your body, his front to the back of yours. His nose buried in your mane of hair, an arm draped over your waist.
fuck, this is so domestic, and soft, and cute, and lovely, and sweet, and-i can't.
Jeonghan pressed his fingers on your chin gently, tugging you so you locked your pretty eyes with his. “Does it not, really?”
RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅
“Did you think I would want you more if you were human?” he asked without heat in his words, his gaze reading your features over and over. “Did you think that would give you a shot at a normal thing happening between us?”
🧍‍♀️she's just down bad, ok? go easy on her.
By this, you meant, the out-of-the-ordinary need for him, the desperate craving that refused to let you live. Maybe then, the bond between you would not be so unbearable.
asdfghjkl i love this. so angsty and so soft, and i dont even what the fuck im feeling
“What?” he bit back, holding your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks. “What will you do, eh?”
AHHHHHHWDSNHAOVFUBRHJL DFCVMDSCVBNHDNHTBGFVDC AH YOON JEONGHAN THE MAN YOU ARE
Nothing in existence would make him stop wanting you, damned to hell or not.
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But did he miss you the same way you did? Did he crave to hear your voice like you did his?
fucking hell, oh he fucking did.
“Scary baby demon, what are you going to do?” he teased again, kissing the apple of your cheek, his breath caressing your ear. “I want to see that,” he said mockingly. “Make me suffer.” “I’ll be mad at you.” “I ache for you,”
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“You fucking brat,” he spat, pressing his face on yours, giving you a hard kiss in the process. “Delusional little demon. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?” “Did you really think… I’d stop wanting you?” he panted in between his hard thrusts, the strain in his voice telling you how close he was to his release. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”
this is my live reaction. im actually dead, this is my soul typing
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“I won’t do it again,” “That’s it… that’s my girl,”
WTF OMG IM JUST A GIRL, I CANT- I CAN'T
“Jeonghan,” you started, your tone reducing itself to a whisper. “There is a reason why we can’t get rid of each other.”
say it. SAY IT
“It makes no sense,” he whispered dejectedly. It made perfect sense.
im killing myself if my soulmate goes through stages of grief instead of happiness when it is revealed.
Jeonghan sighed, touching your forehead with his. “That’s a high price to pay,” he whispered.
well, what do you expect? this is the third time, SHE'S DOWN BAD
“I like you the way you are.”
oh my FUCKING GOD I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.
“Don’t go,” he mumbled. Fool. He was a fool.
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whyyyyy NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
FOR ONCE, JUST ONCE, WHY CNA'T THEY BE HAPPY
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the traitor | yoon jeonghan
› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 8.4k
› 🎧: mood – dpr ian | shameless – yuni | symphony – highvyn ft. jey | read your mind – meloh | dive – jooyoung | dead man running – seulgi | for us – v | moonstruck – enhypen | war-r-r – colde
› this one shot is part 2 of the curse - hannieween fest
› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️
› warnings: smut with plot, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex (both receivers), pussy drunk jeonghan, cockdrunk reader, cum swallowing, creampies, cowgirl, mating press. pet names: baby, baby demon (hers)
› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
› author's note: this is part two of my demon hunter hannie! hehe i loved writing it sm and thought to give you a follow-up part!
› additional note: this isn't proofread
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the traitor
JEONGHAN WAS WOKEN UP BY A TINGLING FEELING. As a hunter, he needed to pay attention to a few things, like sudden surges of emotions. Hunches. Tingling sensations were not particularly something he would consider in the bunch. But alas.
He pushed himself up, swinging his legs at the rim of the bed and stared at his knees for a long second. He took a deep breath, rubbing his leg. It was pointless, he thought when he could not find a reason to leave his bed in the middle of the night.
But being a hunter also meant he needed to be on high alert nearly all the time. In his experience, sometimes it was a good idea to pay attention to those moments when nothing made sense at all, such as this.
Sucking in a breath, he got up, stretching his arms over his head as he went over to the small bathroom, avoiding his reflection in the mirror as usual.
Upon the first splash of water hitting his face, he thought of you. It was inevitable. The image of you sitting on the ground, surrounded by trees. That night, he left you for good. That night nothing made sense.
Needless to say, he was exercising all of his will not to go back to you.
Stop trying to make sense of everything.
After that, he debated whether to go back to bed or not. He could take a bottle, try to numb his senses and finally get a good night of sleep. But he needed to stay sharp.
It was a lost game. He got dressed, throwing his pair of black pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Finally strapping his chest harness on with his knife. Going out in the middle of the night meant to him that he was out for blood.
That was his way to distract himself.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.”
He recoiled, shaking his head and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of you. But your last words to him were a curse, echoing inside him every night, refusing to leave.
Jeonghan let out a long exhale as he wandered through the night. The streets of the town were completely deserted, he knew he would have to stay out for some hours before he found a target.
These nights, he had been hunting until he travelled three towns over. All because he cannot find it in himself to sleep, he has to fight the urge to seek you out somehow.
Maybe this will be the night he breaks.
There was nothing in this town. It was too safe, too clean. He knew it would not be long until he had to move to a different town and start over. He had been commissioned to travel to different parts of the globe to find something to hunt down, so maybe he was doing his job right.
So why did he come back to this shitty town? 
Something spiked in his nightly walk. There was something unusual in the air and it was not good. Jeonghan had really good senses, but his intuition was something that discerned him from the rest. Sometimes, people would tell him that his intuition was something out of the ordinary for hunters. So he paid more attention to that rather than his other senses.
He subconsciously rubbed his leg and caught his hand just as it dawned on him.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.”
Fear set in, and adrenaline kicked in as he started for a run. He had been stupid. So fucking stupid. How come he did not think that by killing every single demon within the town’s radar he was putting a target on you for other hunters?
Jeonghan knew the town by heart, but he could travel to your apartment with his eyes closed. Countless were the nights he stumbled upon your front door, burdened with misery all over. This cannot be the way he finds you dead.
“No, no, no, no…” he had been repeating the word like a prayer as he climbed through a labyrinth of stairs, panting, sweating until he burst the door open, already knowing you would not be there.
He called your name, either way, his voice bouncing back the walls. There was something off. A glass was shattered, pushed against the corner of the room. One of the chairs was drawn back, in the middle of the way. Jeonghan painted a scene of what could have gone down.
You were probably having the bowl of cereal that was abandoned on the table when the other hunter burst in. Jeonghan could not catch the scent of the other hunter, so that meant whoever that was, they masked themselves well.
No, you would have felt his presence before he could even breathe in your direction. Even if you were young, you were not completely inexperienced in the world of hunters. He made sure of that.
Another possibility was that you were asleep when the other hunter came. The sheets of your bed were tossed to one side. Jeonghan crouched next to the mattress, a terrible feeling sinking inside him upon getting your scent lingering on the pillowcases.
Jeonghan missed you.
“Where are you?” he whispered, closing his eyes to focus on your scent.
You smelled like freshly picked flowers. The smell he would get in the early morning after a night of rain. The fact that you did not smell like death, or blood made it hard for him to focus sometimes.
He opened his eyes, his focus falling on the open window. Then, he knew why he could not make a story from his surroundings. He had been wrong to assume it was just one hunter.
Someone had also come through the window. You were trapped from the beginning. His chest contracted painfully. But somehow he knew you were not dead yet. Have you been taken? For what end?
The possibilities were endless. Even if hunters had a long history of hating demons, some of them were missing some screws in their heads too.
Jeonghan needed to find you, soon.
Making his way down the stairs, part of him wondered why try at all. He could be rid of you once and for all. He could probably turn a blind eye to this and wait for your name to appear on the ledges. He would be free from the fucking pull that lead him to you every time.
The pull.
The feeling he got every time he closed his eyes, the need and deep craving for you that made him go insane. He let himself feel it. It tugged inside him, like a thread that was tied to his very core.
Jeonghan had refused that feeling ever since he met you, thinking it was some kind of trick you played on him. Silly little hunter got all wrapped in a demon’s finger.
But if he dared to give in to the pull, everything smelled of you. Every gulp of air he took as he walked in the direction his senses told him, he saw your face, your teary eyes as he walked away. Fool, he was a fool.
He was led to the forest, the same path he had gone through when he saw you last. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he should go back and hunt you down.
But then he heard noises, leaves rustling, and a small intake of breath. The sweet way you drew air into your lungs.
He thought of risking calling your name, but he did not know if the hunters were around. So he just followed the sound of your movements until he could get his sight on you.
You could barely walk right. Something had brought you to your knees, your arms were shaking as you forced yourself to stand up, with a low grunt.
Jeonghan called your name this time, making you lift your head.
He stopped abruptly at the sight of something shiny in your fist.
“Don’t move,” you said, punctuating each word painfully.
“What happened?” he asked, his tone declining in sickening worry, his gaze coasted at each of your limbs, zeroing in on your thigh. The same thigh he had been rubbing since he woke up. It made no sense.
“Step back, Jeonghan,” you panted in pain, raising the knife at him when he made a motion toward you.
“You didn’t notice me coming,” he muttered, analyzing the situation quickly. He sent his gaze around, seeing if there were signs that there was someone lurking by. “Let me take a look at that.”
“How did you find me?” you asked, letting yourself plop back to the ground, letting go of the knife.
Jeonghan got to your side, dropping to his knees to look at your thigh. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, eyeing you. “I’m going to touch you now.”
You nodded and braced yourself for the searing pain in your leg. “Two hunters came for me,” you said, clenching your jaw tightly to resist the pain throbbing in your skin, around the gaping hole that was turning black.
“I know,” he said, examining the open wound. “Did they stab you?”
You shook your head twice. “They were using a crossbow. Silver arrows,” you explained despite the need to rest your head on the ground and sleep through it. “I feel dizzy.”
Jeonghan shot you a look. He was worried. “It’s the poison, they must’ve poisoned the arrows to neutralize you,” he said at once. “What did you do to the arrow?”
“I used it on one of them,” you replied with half a smirk that slowly vanished as Jeonghan started to press on the wound, seeing any signs of anything odd or unfamiliar.
“Sorry,” he breathed as you tensed in pain. “I need to see if there’s anything in there,” he explained, but what did not satiate the doubts running in his mind.
“I can’t heal it,” you repeated and now he could see that beneath the pain and the need to deflect it with humour, you were scared.
“I know, I know,” he told you, giving you a stern look. “I can help you but you’ll have to be quiet.”
“Are you missing this opportunity to gag me?” you quipped but your tone was made weak by the fear of feeling pain.
Demons were used to pain, yes. But you were a fairly young demon and lived for most of your life in the human world. Such pain was not welcome for you.
“Breathe,” he instructed and used his hands on your thigh to squeeze the blood that had gone black and tacky around the wound.
You gritted your teeth, writhing in pain on the cold ground. “Stop, stop, stop,” you cried out, trying to get his hands off you.
But Jeonghan was quicker, and stronger than you at that moment. He did not deter from his task to squeeze the poisoned blood out of you despite your desperate cries for him to stop.
You lied, nearly limp from the exhaustion the pain had put you through. A sheen layer of cold sweat covered your face and neck, breathing hard. “Fuck you,” you sighed when he stopped squeezing your flesh.
“I’m not done yet, I need pressure on the wound,” he said, moving back to unfasten his belt with his bloodied hands. He strapped the belt around your upper thigh, forming a tight tourniquet.
“Hurry,” you said through heavy breaths. As you eased your back on the ground, Jeonghan caught sight of the dark wings splayed beneath your body, a clear sign that you could not conceal yourself any further.
Jeonghan made no comment about the weakened state you were in. A knot was set in his stomach upon realizing that you were dying. He grabbed one of the vials he kept in his hunter’s belt, it contained a white liquid. “This is going to sting a little,” he murmured, unstoppering the vial with his mouth and not pausing before pouring the antidote on your open wound.
Your hand flew to clench at his wrist, letting out a scream that was quickly muffled by his hand clasped in your mouth.
“I’m nearly done,” he said with a composure that you could see through. Beneath that, Jeonghan was worried you would not make it.
“Am I going to be all right?” you asked in a daze, slurring out your words.
“Drink this,” he pressed the vial to your lips, pouring the rest down your tongue, which you gulped willfully, it tasted like white vinegar.
You rested your head on the ground, taking slow and deep breaths as though you had just finished running a marathon.
“You’re going to be all right,” he said after a quick examination of the wound. “But you’ll need to feed soon.”
“Right,” you mumbled in understanding. By feeding, Jeonghan did not mean human food. Although you could eat human food just all right, it did not sustain what your soul craved.
He meant sins. You needed to feed off human sin. They made you stronger, and faster. They gave you the fuel needed to fight hunters. Going off sins for a while made you just as strong as an average human.
“Why haven’t you fed?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand that he was reprimanding you.
“Been busy,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.
The last thing you heard was Jeonghan mumbling, “We’ll need to move soon,” before you fell into a deep sleep on a floor covered by dead leaves. 
Upon regaining consciousness, you noticed with some slowness that you were not surrounded by trees, and you were moving. Your wings were cradling you, so that meant your horns were on sight too.
You tensed up, drawing in a shaky breath, palming your body in search of the knife that you stole from your attackers.
“Easy,” Jeonghan murmured next to you, a hand on the wheel, the other on the shift stick.
“Where are we?” you said, looking around.
“Radewood town,” he replied nonchalantly, eyes set forward on the road.
“Why?” you asked slowly, hiding your wings, from his view, then your horns.
“How’s your leg?” he asked instead, glancing at your thigh.
The wound had stopped bleeding, it was no longer oozing that black substance that had Jeonghan looking worried. You hissed painfully upon searching it with your fingers. The blood had dried, but it was not healing at the speed you would normally have.
“It hurts,” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip. “It’s not healing.”
Jeonghan nodded. “You need to feed,” he reminded you with the same tone of reprimand of earlier.
“Well, I fled without stopping to grab my purse so,” you sighed. “I don’t have money.”
“I’m not talking about human food,” he said with annoyance, shooting you a look that made you shrink in your seat. “Why haven’t you been feeding?”
You blinked slowly at him and shook your head after deciding that there was no answer that would please him. “I have–,”
“Don’t say you have been busy,” he cut in.
“Well, it’s the truth,” you said with a clear tone that gave away your lie.
But Jeonghan could feel it. Whenever you told a lie, there was a change in the air that only he could notice as a hunter. No human could ever detect your lies, only people like him.
“You know I know when you’re lying,” he said flatly, throwing you a dark look.
“Be content with that,” you bit back. “I’m not telling you anything else.”
Jeonghan shook his head, deciding not to press any further on the matter. He licked his lips, filling his lungs with the fresh midnight air that swept in through his rolled window.
“Jeonghan,” you called softly and did not proceed with your question until he glanced your way. “Why are you helping me?”
Jeonghan turned on a different street again, checking his rearview mirror, pretending to ready his answer. “I don’t know,” he replied.
There it was the empty void extending between you and him. If he lied, you would have sensed it too.
“How did you find me?” you pressed, trying to the best of your ability to analyze him. You were still weak, but you could still observe him despite your foggy brain.
“I don’t know,” he repeated with a low tone that barely cut through the noise of the engine of the car.
It made no sense. The way he found you in the woods was not done with any of his training. He simply closed his eyes and let him be taken to you. He did not even think twice as he carried your body to his car and started it, taking you far away from the town where you would be at risk of being hunted down.
“We have to lay low for now,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes as he cut the engine on an empty parking lot.
You raised your gaze to the motel sign, flaring in red neon light. “Is this your version of laying low?” you said with a sarcastic huff. “We could’ve done that back in the forest.”
Jeonghan opened the door, not bothering to look at you or give you a reply. “Stay here.”
You saw him walking away from the car, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his long hair tied in a messy ponytail.
You could run away. You did not know if Jeonghan was even aware of this. Maybe he was, you had a bad leg, and you were growing weaker.
Plus, there was the fact that he was now aware that he could trace you with his eyes closed.
You swallowed hard, waiting for him in the passenger seat of his old Mustang. You were going nowhere.
Some minutes later, you saw Jeonghan exiting the building and walking towards your door, which he opened to retrieve his belongings, which were his belt and his knife.
“This way,” he mumbled, motioning to one of the doors with a jerk of his head.
Reluctantly, you exited the car, closing the door behind you. Jeonghan turned and walked over to the door, introducing the key, and opening it for you.
You knew better than to fight it. There was a quiet storm brewing in the man’s head, and you were in its eye. You knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him. And you knew what it was.
With a sigh, you walked inside the room.  “One bed?” you turned to him with an exasperated look.
“I didn’t think you would mind,” he froze by the doorframe.
“Whatever,” you waved a hand dismissively before he could offer to change it.
As soon as Jeonghan closed the doors and the blinds, you started to the bathroom, taking all of your clothes off in front of him. You made no invitation, no offer but you still left the door open, the sound of the shower filling the tiny room.
Jeonghan made another small inspection, looking out of the window through the blinds before deciding to relax. He took his jacket off, leaving it neatly by the chair that was pushed to one corner of the room. He took his boots off, sitting down on the chair with a low grunt of exhaustion.
As he sat up straight, he caught sight of his hand, only noticing because he had started moving it, rubbing his palm on the exact spot where you had been injured.
“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself, raising his gaze as you returned to the bathroom, wholly naked, pressing a towel to your hair.
“You okay, hunter?” you eyed him curiously, like a cat that just noticed a flashy light.  
Jeonghan frowned, not at you but at the thing stirring inside his chest. That feeling he got only when he was with you. “When is the last time you fed?”
“Here we go again,” you rolled your eyes but continued towel-drying your hair without bothering to respond.
“Answer me,” he muttered when you turned your back on him. Your reluctance to answer his question might have given him the answer.
“The last time we saw each other,” you said, your words echoing his own thoughts.
“Why?” the word was sharp like it took everything in him to suppress the dark emotion pulling on his every nerve. “That happened months ago.”
“Why do you care so much?” you spat, turning around to face him.
The question seemed to make him return to his senses, his eyes flickered with an emotion that you were to weak to catch. “I don’t,” he replied, stepping back from his initial anger.
“I’ll feed whenever I want to,” you said and this time you did not lie.
Jeonghan stood up, commanding your gaze to lift up to find his. “So you’re not hungry?”
You bit your tongue. Your eyes were dead, and despite the hot shower you had just taken, you were cold to the touch as Jeonghan curiously raised a hand to your shoulder. It was pointless, your plan had crashed and burned miserably.
“I’ve heard stories…” you whispered, closing your eyes to repel the sensation firing inside you. “Stories of ways a demon can become human. You can’t become human if you’re feeding off them, right?”
When Jeonghan did not reply, nor move you opened your eyes again. He was still rigid in the same trance he had been upon finding you injured and bleeding in the forest.
“You’ll die,” he sentenced after some seconds. “Are you insane?”
You brushed his hand off. “I knew you’d say that,” you whispered with a pained look, turning around to sit down on the bed.  
“Why do you want to become human?” the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them.
“Not your business, Jeonghan,” you replied impishly, throwing the towel to him, which he saw coming, catching it with ease.
“It is if you’re running away with me,” he said. Your temptation to feed could become dangerous. And he was toeing that line too deliberately.
“I didn’t choose to run away with you,” you bit back with an indignant huff.
“That’s the thanks I get?” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “What was I supposed to do, then? Leave you to die? To be found by them?”
He did not need to explain who he referred to. The two hunters must have noticed that Jeonghan ran away with his things, his car, leaving an empty place behind. And you are nowhere to be found. He was a traitor.
“Maybe,” you whispered, lowering your gaze to your lap. You skirted the pads of your fingers around the wound that still refused to heal completely.
Jeonghan stood before you, using a hand on your chin to force your teary eyes on him. A finger scooped your tear as it rolled down your cheek. The tear glistened on the pad of his thumb as he showed it to you, a shocked expression plastered on his face.
Demons felt emotions, yes. But nothing like sorrow. Jeonghan had never seen a demon cry, let alone one that wanted to become human. It made no sense.
“It’s possible, Jeonghan,” you whispered shakily, letting your tears flow freely.
“Humans are weak. They get sick, they die. Besides, the guilt of everything you’ve done as a demon will crush you,” he said, dropping his hand from your chin. “Why would you want something like that?”
“I’m done talking,” you said childishly, turning over to draw the covers of the bed and tucked yourself in. “Goodnight.”
He blinked perplexedly at you. The best option was to wait for another opportunity to bring up the matter, but for now, he needed to rest. He disposed of his chest harness, and his knives, leaving them on the old and battered bedside table, where he could reach out if needed.
A smile threatened to break on his face when you turned slightly at the sound of him taking his pants off, then his long-sleeved t-shirt, discarding his clothes at the foot of the bed.
He paused, tugging the band of his black boxers with his fingers. He took them off, making things fair.
“Is that necessary?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he sank under the covers with you.
“Just playing your game,” he said, tugging the hair tie loose before lying his head on the pillow next to yours.
“I’m not playing any games,” you huffed with annoyance, turning over so your back was to him once again.
There it was the ripple in the air between you and him. Jeonghan did not need to comment on it, but you hated it.
Hunter abilities or not, Jeonghan would be able to read through your lies blindfolded. He was just that good at reading people, reading you.
Jeonghan stared at the ceiling, his heartbeat going a mile per hour, like a bird’s wings batting frantically inside his chest. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge pushing him to raise his hand at you, to reach out and touch your skin.
You closed your eyes, commanding yourself to sleep. But it was nearly impossible. Jeonghan’s scent was too distracting. The hunger caved a hole deep inside you. It was no ordinary hunger, it was one that had your soul twisting.
You balled your hands into fists, sinking your face into the pillow. His lust was nearly palpable, looming over you like a monster preying on you.
However, you were too weak to actually act upon it. Soon, you fell asleep, not noticing when or how.
Jeonghan however, was too riddled with questions to do the same. He turned his head on the pillow, seeing your wet hair, your naked shoulder. His thigh throbbed in something that reminded him of pain, though his flesh was fine and did not hurt.
Why would you want to become human? What could be a good enough reason to want to abandon your life full of pleasures? It made no sense. Jeonghan had never heard of a demon becoming human, but he saw you crying, so that must mean that it could be done.
Still, it meant that there was a price to be paid. There always was.
Wandering through endless questions, Jeonghan fell asleep. Now and then he was reminded of your presence in the bed, feeling your warmth or hearing you move beneath the sheets.
Even if he were not a light sleeper, the distraction of your warmth was enough to stir him awake. He found himself entirely pressed to your body, his front to the back of yours. His nose buried in your mane of hair, an arm draped over your waist.
And he was hard. Fuck, he was so hard it was starting to become annoying. It would be so easy to slip himself inside your pussy, waking you up in the process. He had done it countless times before.
He let out a silent sigh through his nose, only getting the scent of your hair when he breathed in. Your hand found his arm parked on the curve of your waist, you were awake. Jeonghan pressed himself another inexistent inch further, his hard cock wedged on your ass.
“Jeonghan,” you mumbled sleepily, turning over to see him. You threw him an innocent look, big eyes, pouting lips. “What are you doing?”
He responded by giving you a confused look. In other times, you would not even ask questions, you would just let him take you, take whatever he wanted, for however long.
Jeonghan brought a hand to your chin, his touch igniting your skin, making you blink dumbly. “How long are you going to keep resisting it?” the words flew out of his mouth before he could even comprehend his own question.
But he knew what you were doing. He was an expert in pushing his feelings down, particularly, he knew what it felt like to resist this pull.
“However long is necessary, Jeonghan,” you replied, but your tone wavered in the urge to press yourself against his hand, to feel him.
“Why?” he asked, his eyes skirting through your reaction. He knew you wanted this, why were you refusing him?
“If I keep this for long I might get what I want,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes in utter shame.
“Why do you want to become human so desperately?” he asked again, looking at you with an obfuscation that was hard to mask.
You shrugged, keeping your sunken gaze on his chiselled chest. “That doesn’t concern you.”
Jeonghan pressed his fingers on your chin gently, tugging you so you locked your pretty eyes with his. “Does it not, really?”
Your brow furrowed, your gaze darkening. Feeling like you were being mocked, your eyes watered again. “Fuck off, Jeonghan,” you scoffed weakly, trying to free yourself from his grip.
He did not want to see it, but your reaction told him everything he needed to know. It took him some seconds to shake the perplexion off. It made no sense. “Did you think that being human would change things?”
You made no verbal reply, scoffing as you brushed his hand off you one more time.
But you knew him well enough to expect that would not work on him. He needed an answer now, and he would stop at nothing to get it now that he knew it fully concerned him.
“Did you think I would want you more if you were human?” he asked without heat in his words, his gaze reading your features over and over. “Did you think that would give you a shot at a normal thing happening between us?”
“No, Jeonghan,” you rolled your eyes, but he could see how much his questions had pierced through you. “Quite the opposite.”
He made a motion to pull his head back on the pillow as if that gave him a better frame of your face. “What?”
“I want this to stop,” you whispered, rolling over the bed to sit up with a sigh.
Jeonghan looked at your back, you let your head drop forward, sniffling softly but you were fully crying now.
“Maybe being human will make this stop,” you whispered, motioning a hand between his body and yours. By this, you meant, the out-of-the-ordinary need for him, the desperate craving that refused to let you live. Maybe then, the bond between you would not be so unbearable.
Jeonghan sat up too, trying to read any signs of your words being insincere. But he found nothing, the quiet tension falling in the room startled him, and it made him uncomfortable. Even more, the battering inside his chest was making it difficult to even breathe.
“That makes no sense,” he mumbled with a hollow tone.
“It makes perfect sense,” you bit back, throwing him a sad look.
You were weak, nearing a state that you did not comprehend. Becoming human meant that you also had to deal with human emotions, and they were flowing freely through you, giving you a taste of what you were about to face as a human.
However, making yourself human condemned you to a myriad of threats. Not just mortality. You would become a demon that betrayed its own kind. A traitor, too.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, trying to hold your gaze to read you better.
“I want to be rid of you by whatever means necessary,” you hissed, coating your words with venom.
“Liar.”
There was a shadow of a smile on his face, and before you resorted to a crazed fit of violence, you decided to crush your mouth with his, kissing him with enough vehemence it would hurt him if he were human.
But he was tough enough to take you. He released a grunt in your mouth that was from half arousal, half annoyance at you.
“You’re a baby,” he grunted between hard kisses. “A bratty, fussy, melodramatic demon.”
“Shut up, Jeonghan,” you hissed. “Shut up or I swear–,”
“What?” he bit back, holding your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks. “What will you do, eh?”
“Don’t try me right now,” you said, kissing him repeatedly you were running out of breath.
“That’s exactly what I want to do,” he chuckled. “Did you think that making yourself human would make me stop wanting you?”
“Yes,” you hissed, pushing him back onto the bed with all the strength you had.
Jeonghan was stronger than you at that moment, but he allowed you to handle him with a triumphant smirk on his face. Nothing in existence would make him stop wanting you, damned to hell or not.
Though it made him curious to know. “Do you want to stop wanting me, then?” he leaned his head to his shoulder.
“It would be nice to stop craving you all the time,” you said, sinking your face in the crook of his neck to kiss him.
“Liar,” he grunted, holding your hips as you made a trail of kisses down his beautifully scarred chest. “Even worse, you’re a masochistic one at that.”
The guilty giggle escaping through your lips gave him all the reassurance he needed. You were now soaking up his need for you.
“Gods,” he breathed when your lips reached his hipbone. Your touch would never satiate the craving need inside him, but this night he would at least attempt to.
His fingers tangled in your hair, keeping his grip light but it would become difficult as you gave him a long lick from his ball sack to the tip of his cock. “Fuck,” he gritted, tensing as you wrapped your mouth around the bulbous head of his cock. “Yes, baby, just like that.”
The room fell silent again, but now all that surrounded you and him was lust and bliss. It had your blood revelling, sizzling beneath your skin to take him into your mouth. His fingers thread in your hair, caressing you as you bobbed your head up and down on him, sucking him off eagerly. You were tasting him, not only his skin, his arousal, but his lust. It drove you crazy.
“Gods, I fucking missed you,” he drawled, closing his eyes briefly before he lost all control. He wanted to push his hips, to drive his cock into your throat. But he also wanted to take this patiently.
You explored him with your mouth, just like your hands were exploring his body. Not that his nakedness was new to you, but you had just gone months without touching him. And not for a single second did you forget the taste of him, you also missed him.
But did he miss you the same way you did? Did he crave to hear your voice like you did his?
Your transition from demon to human was painful, and you were throwing it all away in one night. And Jeonghan was willingly letting you feed off his lust, you were relishing the taste of his greed, sucking off the last bit of the self-restraint he had in him.
His fingers curled around your hair, clenching his jaw as he moaned in pure pleasure. He let out a gasp when your tongue swirled around his cockhead. “Keep doing that, baby,” he said languidly, following the movements of your head on him.
A strangled moan bubbled in your mouth, and you followed his command, rolling your tongue around his blunt head.
Jeonghan smirked knowingly. You weakened whenever he treated you with softness, so words like baby drove you crazy. He threw a look down at his body, capturing your eyes, darkened with a lascivious greed that only fueled his. “Touch yourself,” he said with a gruff tone. “I want you to come with me.”
You sneaked a hand between your thighs, moaning salaciously when your fingers stroked your clit.
Jeonghan sighed, blinking slowly at the sight of you, thinking of your drenched pussy, your fingers coated in your arousal as you rubbed fast swirls around your clit. “That’s it, baby, just like that,” he praised, brushing your hair back with his long fingers. “You’re such a good girl for me, you don’t even know it.”
You moaned around his cock again, succumbing to a fast orgasm, your body trembled slightly.
“Coming,” he whispered, his mouth falling open as ropes of cum spurted down your throat, moaning at the sight of you drinking him off completely, licking to the last bead of his cum. You littered the reddened cockhead with sweet pecks trailing down to his shaft, eliciting a raw chuckle from him.
“That was amazing,” he whispered, enjoying the twinkle in your dark eyes upon being praised by him.
Jeonghan sat up, hooking one arm around your waist to throw you back onto the mattress. “Your turn,” he said with a wolfish grin.
You had recuperated the color in your cheeks, but you were still weak enough to fight his strength. You grunted as your head hit the pillows, but returned the smile at him. “You’ll see when I get my strength back.”
“Ooh, scary,” he said, grazing his lips on yours.
“You’ll see,” you remarked.
“Scary baby demon, what are you going to do?” he teased again, kissing the apple of your cheek, his breath caressing your ear.
“I’ll make you suffer,” you mumbled faintly, closing your eyes as his lips reached the underside of your jaw, making you tilt your head back for him.
“I want to see that,” he said mockingly. “Make me suffer.”
You sighed a moan when he kissed your throat, giving you a broad stroke with his tongue, tracing your collarbones. “Jeonghan…”
“Don’t throw another tantrum like that again,” he murmured against your skin, leaving another kiss on the plain of your breasts, before adding, “I’ll be mad at you.”
A spark of wrath got mixed along with greed and lust, it was not new to you, but it was rare.
“It wasn’t a tantrum,” you argued, though your tone was made weak by his lips, his tongue licking one of your nipples, making you arch your back.
He paused, “I don’t care,” he decided at once. “You’re not doing it again.”
“You don’t get to decide what I do, Jeonghan,” you mumbled breathily, moaning as his mouth wrapped around your nipple, suckling at it softly once, then swirling the tip of his tongue around it.
Jeonghan did not respond verbally to your obvious lie. He did not have a say in your choices, but there was a force greater than him or you that tied you to him. So every choice you made, every choice he made, was bound to affect you both.
“How’s your leg?” he asked, moving your thighs gently to slot his waist between them. His fingers traced a circle around the scar that was beginning to form.
“Better,” you sighed.
“Mmn,” he smirked at you, leaning over to kiss your lips. “Will it heal completely by the time I’m done eating you out?”
“Why, are you in a rush?” you quipped, arching an eyebrow at him.
There you were, he smirked. “I ache for you,” he whispered, letting his forehead fall upon yours. The shame coursing through him made you recoil but sensing it, he added quickly: “You have not only starved yourself but starved me with your stupid little plan.”
“You avoided me too,” you accused.
“I know, I was a fool,” he confessed, running his palms all over your body as if he could not do anything else. He sank down, leaving wet kisses down your tummy, his hands palming your breasts, his fingers lingering on your sensitive nipples.
You bit your lip, only in your most crazed fantasies did you dare to imagine him saying this. “You were,” you whispered. “The biggest fool.”
“Uh-huh,” he hummed, kissing your mound generously, his hands grabbing your thighs with the lightest of touches before licking your pussy with a broad stroke.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, brushing his dark hair gently as he ate you out like a starved man, licking your folds thoroughly, his tongue sliding up to your clit to then suckle at it.
You arched your back, not caring about the light pain throbbing on your thigh. Jeonghan was giving you everything you needed, giving your pussy open-mouthed kisses, drinking your arousal in with pleased moans.
“Fuck-k,” you gritted weakly, letting yourself be swept away by the gentle waves of your orgasm building inside you. “I m-missed you too, Jeonghan,” you mumbled.
He raised his gaze to yours, blinking slowly at you, pressing his tongue on your swollen clit, moving it swiftly in figure-eight motions, driving you to the edge. You gripped the bedsheets with one hand, the other flying to grab at the railings of the headboard.
“I’m close,” you gasped, breathing rapidly, welcoming the pleasure barreling through your body. “I’m close, I’m–, Jeonghan…” you closed your eyes, repeating his name over and over as you climaxed in his mouth.
But Jeonghan was not stopping. He continued making out with your pussy, enjoying the taste of your arousal pooling in your entrance, licking your folds with raunchy moans. His hands held you down as you shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm, caressing your tummy languidly.
“Jeonghan,” you called, shuddering when his hand caressed your thigh as he littered it with kisses.
“See? Healed,” he placed another kiss, right where your scar used to be.
You used your newly regained strength to push him, flipping the positions over so you were now straddling him. You let out a pleased sigh, effortlessly pinning his body down on the mattress.
“I take that you’re all set now,” he smirked, his hands roving all over your thighs.
Gods, you were a sight to behold. Your wings were at full display, resting freely at your sides. Your dark horns, curving back from the crown of your head, were on sight too. That meant you were comfortable around Jeonghan. You trusted him.
“Not yet,” you said, grabbing his hardened cock in one hand, planting the other on his abdomen for support as you eased your pussy down his length.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, his hands flying to grab your hips as you started rolling them on him.
“What’s wrong, hunter?” you teased, leaning down so your face was close enough to prop kisses on his lips. “Lost your footing?”
“You got me for a second there,” he admitted with a smirk. “Didn’t think you’d recuperate your strength that quickly.”
“Mm, keep that in mind next time you kiss it better,” you said, trapping his bottom lip with your teeth, nibbling it softly.
Jeonghan moaned, your hips picking up the pace mercilessly, knowing the exact pace and motion that drove him insane. He closed his eyes, sighing out the euphoric feeling of being with you, like this, consuming each other.
“It won’t happen again. You’re not doing this to yourself again,” he said with a faint tone.
“You don’t make choices for me,” you retaliated, sinking yourself down on him with pleased sighs, planting your hands on his chiselled chest.
In a blur, Jeonghan grabbed your wrists with one hand flipping your bodies over, pinning your body with his hips on yours, his hand holding your arms above your head. Jeonghan moved his hips slightly, finding your entrance with his hard cock quite effortlessly.
Jeonghan gave a few shallow thrusts, stretching your walls, making your mouth part, giving way to a long moan. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you groaned lewdly.
“Say it,” he hissed, rolling his hips on yours slowly, but pushing his cock inside you deeper each time he thrusted in. “You won’t do it again.”
“Fuck you,” you gritted, falling deeper into the puddle of pleasure he was slowly submitting you into.
“Say. It,” he commanded, his thrusts gaining strength, becoming harder at each motion of his hips on yours.
You wrestled his grip on your wrists, without using your full strength. “No,” you said with a hollow tone, the pace of his thrusts knocking the wind out of you.
“You fucking brat,” he spat, pressing his face on yours, giving you a hard kiss in the process. “Delusional little demon. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”
“Stop,” you gasped, shame heating your cheeks.
Jeonghan released his grip on your wrists, not letting you regain control by grabbing your thighs, throwing them on his shoulders before resuming with his near animalistic thrusts, groaning on your mouth as such, like an animal.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, his cock reaching inside you deeper… and deeper.
“Did you really think… I’d stop wanting you?” he panted in between his hard thrusts, the strain in his voice telling you how close he was to his release. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”
“Jeonghan…” you moaned.
“Say it.”
“I won’t do it again,” you said, trembling on the bed, reaching out to hold him right before you came undone beneath him.
“That’s it… that’s my girl,” he gasped, his bottom lip parting, releasing a raw grunt. Jeonghan moaned your name as he came, fucking his cum inside you with sloppy thrusts until he stopped, breathing hard on top of you.
Jeonghan eased your legs from his shoulders, deciding to rest his head on your chest. The sound of your heartbeat resonated through his head as he took a long breath. Your fingers caressed his nape lazily, shuddering under him when Jeonghan ran a fingertip on one of your wings.
This made no sense. To Jeonghan, everything had been black and white. His world was rigid, surrounded by unbreakable rules that made him into the person he was until he met you. Now, he was but the shadow of the man he was. He used to hate himself for wanting you. You were the thing he was raised to hate, to kill.
He did everything to keep you away. He bedded other women, he drank himself to sleep to not dream of you, he flew himself to different parts of the world.
And there he was, blissfully nestled in your warmth, in your embrace.
“Would you hate it if I became human?”
“No,” he replied after some seconds. “But I don’t want you to do it because you think that’s going to change something between us. Some things aren’t meant to change.”
“How can you be so sure?” you asked with a tiny tone.
Jeonghan raised his head, curiously looking at you. Even back with full strength, you still clung to some human vulnerability. “I’m not sure,” he confessed. “I don’t understand many things. But I know that changing yourself won’t bring you happiness, only misery.”
“I’m just tired of this,” you said, and it did not matter that you could not cry anymore, he knew that the statement hurt to say.
Jeonghan got to his knees, pulling out of you gently to slump his body next to yours. He took one long look at you, reminiscing of what he felt when he knew you were slipping away. It was fear, that was undeniable, he was too familiar with that feeling. But never like this.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said with a light frown.
“How did you find me, Jeonghan? How did you know I was in trouble?” you dared to ask again, now your words taking another meaning.
Jeonghan paused. “I just did,” he said but rolled his eyes when you saw through his lie. “I felt something.”
“Jeonghan,” you started, your tone reducing itself to a whisper. “There is a reason why we can’t get rid of each other.”
He went rigid, his eyes coasting all over the features of your face.
“Have you ever tried to… kill me?” you asked, hating how your words came off while lying naked next to him.
“You’d know it if I had,” he said, taken aback by your questions. “Why are you asking me this?”
“There is a reason why you can’t kill me,” you said, despite how crazy you were sounding. “I know you’ve felt it…”
Jeonghan sat up on the bed, gripping the bedsheets to steady himself. He felt lightheaded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar,” you whispered, sitting up next to him.
He ran his hands on his face harshly. “Stop that. This isn’t a game.”
“The last time we saw each other, you felt something,” you pressed, searching his eyes as he faced you.
“It makes no sense,” he whispered dejectedly.
It made perfect sense. The grip that you had on him was unlike anything else he had faced. Time after time he tried to run away, to put distance between you and him. He always found his way back to you somehow, either by greed, by lust or purely by fate. He never knew why, he was bound to you.
“Look at me,” you said, and his gaze found you. “There’s no point in fighting this. I know you’ve tried it before, I tried too.”
“It’s–,”
“Impossible?” you scoffed with a mocking smile.
It was a sick joke. A demon and her hunter. The lamb and the wolf, chasing each other endlessly.
“Is this why you thought becoming human was an option?”
You paused but nodded slowly after some seconds of pondering.
Jeonghan sighed, touching your forehead with his. “That’s a high price to pay,” he whispered.
He knew your next words before you uttered them, “I’m willing to pay it, Jeonghan.”
“I don’t want you to,” he gritted out his words, even if he did not understand, he could not stop fighting it any longer. “I like you the way you are.”
Demon or not, you felt something in your chest, tugging at you. “That’s not the problem,” you shifted back, looking at his confused face.
“I can’t have any ties to anyone,” he said. “Someday I’ll end up dead fighting something stronger and quicker than me.”
“After today’s events, I think it’s clear that I am chased by the same danger.”
“I’ll grow old, and slow,” he added.
“I would too, if I were human. No one would hunt me down,” you countered, not convinced by the obfuscated look on his face. “I wouldn’t have to feed from you.”
“You could die in the process,” he said, and that was the final reason he needed.
“Jeonghan–,”
“No,” he shook his head.
At that, you stopped fighting. You got out of bed, slowly picking up your torn clothes and putting them on without looking back at him.
His heart faltered, looking at you as you sat down on the edge of the bed, next to him. “Don’t go,” he mumbled.
“Give me a reason to stay.”
Jeonghan swallowed his words, taking a last look at your eyes. Something tugged at his heart, urging him to stop you. But you were slipping through the door before he could spring to action.
Fool. He was a fool.
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› author's note: heyyyooooooo
once again i have nothing to say. i just need jeonghan on his knees, begging for forgiveness and mercy
anyway, stay tuned for my next hannieween fest piece!! next post will be loser hannie!! hehe
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oddwalkerduckarts · 1 day ago
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Grassland Romance AU: Winter Winds
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Summary: You've been slowly falling in love with Sylus, a strange outsider who joined your tribe some time ago. You haven't been able to pluck up the courage to say anything. However, when you are caught alone in the fiercest blizzard anyone can remember, it might not be up to you anymore.
AO3
CW: AFAB reader, no use of y/n, pet names (sweetie, little huntress), blizzard, hypothermia, hunting, nude spooning, 90% fluff by volume, sexual themes (but no sex), not proofread, melodrama (god so much melodrama).
Word count: 8k
Notes: poor Luke and Kieran have to be dogs in this AU.
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“Don’t be stupid,” you scoff, “how can lemmings foretell the weather? Their brains are the size of grass seeds!” The bay mare you’re sitting astride shakes her head, before pawing through the watery, heavy snow on the ground to reach the hidden grasses underneath.
Today, as with most days, you are minding the herds with your friend Cota. The two of you are practically sisters, as her family had raised you after your parents perished when you were a young child.
“I’m not the one who said it!” She protests, leaning back to aim a kick at your foot succeeding at knocking it out of your stirrup. “I’m just telling you what Elder Shikigur said, and he said, ‘There’s too many lemmings moving, there will be a large storm coming.’”
You groan. Blizzards are a continual hazard of grassland winters. Harsh winds are able to scream across the treeless landscape with terrifying fury, tearing through even thick winter deels, and whirling snow into a blinding haze. Preparing for one means rounding up the flocks, reinforcing yurts to hold against wind and snowfall, and digging out of the yurts once the storm is through. They’re critical jobs that need to be done. That is, when the weather actually calls for it.
“It’s practically spring!” You argue, gesturing wildly to the half-melted pasture around the two of you, “It’s so damn warm, that I couldn’t even wear my thickest deel today! I would’ve been covered in sweat!”
Cota shrugs, “I’m just telling you what the elders were gossiping about.”
“Well, regardless of what they say, I’m not taking out my winter deel again until next winter.”
“I bet you would if Sylus asked you to.”
You feel the color rise in your cheeks at the sing-song tease, and the mention of his name.
You aim a return kick at Cota’s leg, but she reins her mare to the side in time to evade you. “I would not! And besides, he’s out with some of the others hunting pheasant, anyway.”
Cota’s smile grows wider, “Oh ho, so you’ve been keeping track of which hunting parties he goes with, huh?”
An irritated groan leaves your throat as your friend laughs. “Aren't you supposed to be heading back about now? I'll tell the elders you've been slacking to sit around and gossip.”
“Aw, don't pout! It's cute, all your pining. You're going to have to do something soon though, otherwise some other girl is going to catch his eye at a festival, and then what will you do?”
“I’m pretty sure you're supposed to be helping with cooking right now, aren't you?”
Cota makes her own irritated groan, “No one likes when I cook anyway!”
“Better that than you sitting here and teasing me.”
She makes a rude gesture at you, and you return it.
"Fine,” she grumbles, “but keep an eye on the weather, okay?”
“Of course, I'll let you know if the lemmings are oracles or not.”
Cota rolls her eyes with a scoff, before reining her horse around and trotting back to the village. It’s good timing, you notice the right side of the herd has started to splinter a bit, and needs to be rounded back in.
As you go about your job, you can’t stop your mind from pondering over your relationship with the strange man.
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Sylus had come to the tribe as an outsider a few years ago. Strong and skilled in both riding and archery, he’d been welcomed into the fold immediately, seemingly to his own surprise. His striking appearance had immediately caught many eyes; tall, broad and strong in the chest, with eyes the color of freshly-spilled blood set in a devastatingly handsome face. The one criticism you heard of him was of his curt, reticent nature, that meant he constantly had a severe expression on his face.
Well, almost-constantly.
Within a month after joining the tribe, there had begun to be problems with a particular wolf picking off sheep in the night. It had always seemed to know where to attack, far enough away from any of the herders that it was impossible to reach him in time. It even managed to evade the vigilant Bankhar dogs, who kept constant watch on their flock, and rarely let a wolf’s presence go unpunished. The predator managed to evade everyone. Everyone except Sylus.
It had only taken two nights of Sylus on guard, before he returned in the early morning light, with the giant, tawny corpse of the wolf thrown over one shoulder. He’d managed to kill it, in the dark, with a single arrow to its skull. The entire tribe had celebrated that night; an end to the nights of doubled watches in the dark and lost sheep. Wine and kumis had run freely that night, along with music and dancing in the center of the temporary village.
The wolf’s body had been set aside, to be skinned for the fur and used as linings and blankets to guard against the frigid winter months. Even in death, it still looked fierce, its fur sleek and body corded with lean muscle that reminded you of its killer. You had bent down to examine the bared teeth, sharp and white against the pale flesh of the gums. You reached out to draw your finger over one of the fangs, curious to see if it would be sharp like a knife, or blunt like one of the Bankhar dogs.
“Disturbing the dead?”
The deep voice, close enough to feel against the back of your neck, had you stumbling backwards, and gracelessly falling on your ass. A throaty chuckle came from above your head, and you had looked up to see Sylus, his face smug and scarlet eyes dancing with laughter.
“It doesn’t count if it’s a wolf,” You grumbled, pulling yourself off the ground, “ass.”
His head was cocked to the side as you rose, finger tapping his cheek in mock-thought, “I thought a wolf was supposed to be the father of the first herdsmen? Wouldn’t that make this creature here your cousin?”
“That’s an old story, no one believes that.”
His answering smile was sharp, eyes darkening into a sneer. “Is that so?” He drew closer, close enough that you could feel his breath on your face, and feel the fabric of his deel brushing against yours. The gaze he cast down made you realize what a cornered sheep must feel like in the moments before jaws close around its throat. “I think there’s more of wolves in people than you realize.” His growl was just as deep as the dogs when they scented a threat.
A part of you wanted to shrink down in your boots, make your excuses, and flee. But, a much larger, louder part of you was indignant. How dare this man sneak up on you in the dark, make you fall over in surprise, then have the audacity to growl at you like a beast?
So you had tipped your chin up defiantly, “Better be careful. Apparently even the cleverest wolves get arrows in their heads.”
He had stared at you for a moment. Made a single blink. Then a strange, amused smile curled across his face. “Are you going to be the one to fire it, little huntress?”
“If you don’t back up, maybe I will.”
Sylus chuckled then, backing up a few steps. You released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, body thrumming with… anxiety? Excitement? Both? You couldn’t tell. To distract yourself, you turned your attention back to the kill.
“It’s kind of a shame, really. It’s a pretty creature.”
His head cocked to the side again, though the curiosity in his eyes seemed to be genuine this time. “Feeling bad for the predator?”
“He was just trying to live.”
He huffs a small laugh through his nose. “You’re cute.”
“Excuse me?” You look at him, deeply irritated at his patronizing tone.
“Most animals that steal livestock are weak. They’re sick, or injured. Otherwise it just isn’t worth risking the tangle with dogs or people. This one,” he gives the corpse a nudge, “was perfectly healthy. Strong. But instead of using its smarts to take on saiga, or capercaille, it decided to take the easy way out. It never would have stopped, once it knew that it could fool the shepherds.”
You had sighed a little, knowing that in this instance, he was right. “I know. It still seems like a shame. But at least we’ll stop losing so many sheep.”
You had looked up then to find Sylus staring at you with such intensity that you had taken a step backwards. “What?”
He blinked, the intensity dissipating as quickly as a strike of lightning. “Nothing, sweetie.”
“Sweetie?” Your nose wrinkled at the childish nickname.
He gave a small laugh, a mischievous glint coming to his blood red eye, “You feel pity for a predator that would have snapped you up in an instant. It’s very sweet, if maybe a bit naïve.”
“It sounds like something you’d call a toddler.”
“I suppose it does,” the glint was quickly accompanied by an equally mischievous curl to his smirk, “I suppose I’ll have to call you that when you’re acting like a toddler, sweetie.”
“Ugh. Ass.” You’d turned on your heel to return to the fire, trailed by the sound of deep, smug chuckling.
Since then, Sylus always seemed to show up near you, whether you wanted him there or not. And, at least at first, you certainly leaned more towards the former. He had a talent for approaching silently, getting that smugly pleased look from startling you into stumbling or squeaking. He also began to challenge you, goading you into contests or archery, or riding, or throwing knuckle bones. He was nearly impossible to beat, and even on the rare occasions that you won, he had the gall to look completely unbothered by your triumph.
Really, after a few months, you should have hated him.
But in between all of the needling and teasing and challenges, you began to learn more about Sylus. You learned that he enjoyed being out hunting or riding far more than he enjoyed being surrounded by people, even if they were praising him. You learned the long-limbed black stallion he rode when he first encountered your tribe had been declared untamable before Sylus had taken him. When one of the livestock dogs died shortly after having two pups, you even learned that (if he wanted to be) he could be downright gentle. He’d done so well in helping care for the pair, that as they grew, they followed him everywhere and obeyed his every command. All of this new familiarity, so at odds with your first impression of him, had cultivated a quiet companionship between the two of you.
Even more surprising were the moments of softness, startlingly close to affection. When Sylus had sat drinking kumis with you on the new year, and you’d excitedly shared your hopes for what was to come, he listened with a quiet smile. He’d brought you the furs from the wolf he’d killed when you caught a particularly nasty winter cold, and had even insisted you keep it after you recovered. When you met other tribes for trade, he often found you afterwards, giving you some ornament or silk from beyond the grasslands. Despite the fact he’d never admitted to it, you knew that when his two dogs accompanied you out into the grasses to watch the flocks, he’d commanded them to do so.
Maybe most importantly, he’d specifically sought you out to show you a den where wolf cubs were playing in the summer, knowing you’d like to see them tussle.
They’d been adorable, large paws and ears far too big for their fluffy bodies. The two of you had left your horses some yards away and sat down a bit distant from the pups, down wind and silent so as not to give your presence away. For a while you couldn't take your eyes off their energetic forms, tussling in the dust in front of the den, chewing on each others’ ears, yelping and licking when it became too rough. Eventually you'd looked to Sylus to ask him something, but your eyes had fallen on the short, recurve bow at his side.
“You're not going to kill them, are you?” You'd whispered
He raised an eyebrow at you in a wordless question.
You checked quickly to make sure the pups hadn't heard you. Fortunately, they still seemed to be involved in their own games.
“I mean. I know they're wolves. They might eat our flocks when they get older. But, they're just babies.”
He blinked at you, with an odd, expression you couldn't place. He rose soon after, walking silently away from the den. You'd followed him, confused.
“Hey,” you hissed, “What are you doing now?”
“Leaving. One parent or the other would've been back soon to feed them. Then I would've actually had to use this.” He tapped the bow that was now slung over his shoulder.
“Oh.” You murmured, realization dawning, “Is that what you brought it for? If one of the parents came back?”
“I certainly wouldn't have needed it to kill a fragile little pup.” He scoffed. “Besides, there's no use in killing something weak and defenseless. Though it's nice to know just how highly you think of me, sweetie.”
“That's not-” a frustrated noise had escaped you as you struggled for words, “I don't think that of you. It just… others would have done that. To make sure they didn't grow up to prey on our animals.”
He turned to you then, with a gaze that seemed to be searching you, trying to find the truth of something. “And I'm ‘others’ to you?”
“Of course not!”
He arched an eyebrow for the second time that day at the vehemence in your voice.
"You're the strongest warrior we have. And an infuriating opponent. But you're also the person who protects orphaned dogs. And brings me extra furs when I'm sick. And-” you stopped yourself before you could incriminate yourself further, taking a small breath to collect yourself. “You're Sylus. Not… Others.”
There was a small silence between the two of you for a moment, as you walked over the flowing grasses together. The only sound was the occasional waves of wind across the landscape.
It was broken, only slightly, by Sylus repeating those words. “Not others.” He said them quietly, slowly, as though testing out strange words in a new language. When you turned to look at him, you caught a glimpse of a small, soft smile on his face. A look so deeply genuine, and beautifully content, it made your breath catch in your chest.
Things had begun to change after the day with the wolves. You were beginning to come familiar with the slight curve of his smile, his real smile. Instead of your usual irritation, the glint that so often came to his eye when he was planning mischief fanned a wave of warmth in you. You began craving the slight huff of breath he gave when amused with something you’d done. The deep chuckle he sometimes gave when his body drew close to yours made something strange and molten coil in your gut. When he was out hunting saiga, you found yourself unusually sullen and snappish. And when you heard people whooping and clamoring at the return of the hunting parties, you’d be jostling to the front of the small crowd to see him.
You’d started to notice things though, in this time. The gossip among the elders as they cooked about when Sylus would marry, and whose granddaughter would be the lucky catch. The gaggles of women that followed him when he’d practice archery or spectate his races, giggling and blushing. Some of the bolder women would even bring him wine at the fireside and try to curl against him (you wished sometimes that he’d respond with more than amused chuckles at their ridiculousness, though it did produce a gratifying amount of insult in the rejected ladies). Last year at the games, you noticed he’d received pouches from women of every tribe. The smug look he gave you when he’d noticed you glaring at them had been insufferable, and you couldn’t quite force yourself to congratulate him on the numerous offers.
And yet, Sylus remained alone. You didn’t even notice other women entering his yurt (though you’d die before you admitted to watching for such). You didn’t know what you’d do if he did take an interest in someone. The thought of someone else being transfixed by that soft smile in the quiet hours of the night made bile rise in your throat. But there was always the chance that he simply valued his freedom; and being rejected in favor of an ideal you could never match seemed just as nauseating.
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You mull over these thoughts as you and your mare round the goats back to the group. Or, at least, attempt to. One of the damn things stubbornly refuses to rejoin the group. You can swear you see defiance in its eyes when it looks at you. Challenging you. Mocking, even. Every time you have it going the right direction, it turns and bolts in a random direction, leaving you and your bay sliding in the slush. You then have to catch back up to it, and start herding it back once more.
You’re an excellent shepherdess, with a keen eye and a skilled hand with a bow. You've rarely lost an animal on your watch, and certainly never on purpose. But at this point, even you are beginning to think that losing one goat would really not be all that bad if it means this one wouldn’t be part of the herd anymore. Besides, a wind is beginning to rise, a cold one that cuts through the previously-warm day like a freshly-sharpened knife. You’re beginning to wonder if maybe the lemmings were smarter than you’d thought.
After one more, particularly long chase, you give in.
“Fine then!” You yell at the animal, which stood watching you with unaffected eyes as it chewed grass, “you want to deal with a blizzard alone? Go ahead! I’ll laugh when you end up as a goat-cicle! Laugh!”
With a huff, you turn your horse about, ready to gallop back to the herd, and start moving them to a more sheltered part of the pasture. The animals, however, have moved further away on their own. You can see the large dark mass of them in the distance, and you feel a slight unease in your gut. You're not sure how much you believe about oracle lemmings, but you know livestock well; They instinctively group up close when bad weather is imminent, and it seems that they are bracing for a storm now.
Even more worrying is the wall of iron-gray clouds you see blowing in. They're advancing rapidly, overtaking the sky at a pace you've rarely seen before. The wind, too, is beginning to blow so furiously it all but screams, whipping any unmelted snow up into the air.
You again feel that unease in your gut. The village is even further than the herd from where you are at the moment. Thanks to the previously warm weather, you're woefully unprepared to weather a blizzard alone. But both your other options are bleak; either try to make it to the village and hope there's not enough falling snow to make you lose your way, or try your luck with the herd and hope their bodies keep you warm enough to make it through. At least if you make it to the village, your survival is guaranteed. The same can't be said of the herd.
You rein your mare toward the direction of the village, just as the first volley of fresh snowflakes batter your face and hands. And despite your own dire situation, you can't help but think of Sylus, out with the other hunters. They may have arrived home already, and even if they haven’t, their chances are good; the men should be able to find protection from the wind and cold in a group. Nevertheless, your gut twists with anxiety. Hunters rarely stay completely together. And even in the few minutes you’ve been galloping towards the village, visibility is worsening. The gusts of wind have turned into blasts, ripping through your deel and chilling you to your bones. The blasts are also heaving the already-fallen snowflakes up to rejoin the fresh ones in the air, and creating moments where the landscape is inscrutable.
Between the moments of furious wind, you can see the outline of the village. Even as your heart pounds with hope at the sight, a needling numbness begins to take hold in your hands, making it difficult to keep hold of the reins. You try to switch hands; tucking one into the overlapping fold of your deel in an effort to keep it warm, before switching to the other. The biting wind, though, is so vicious and unforgiving, that it takes a mere few seconds for whatever warmth one hand has gained to be lost. At the same time, the numbness has taken hold in your feet, making it impossible to distribute your weight properly. The violent shivers as your body tries to warm itself are a further complication.
It only takes one misstep from your mare. One hoof landing on some uneven ground, causing her to stumble. And despite the high-backed saddle, and your best efforts, it’s impossible to keep your seat. You land hard in the snow. It’s soft enough, at least, that you’re pretty sure nothing is broken. Not that it matters much. Lost and alone in the screaming wind, and featureless white storm, you are as good as dead.
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It feels like an eternity that you lie there in the snow, body wracked by violent shivers in a last-ditch attempt to survive. Logically you know it can’t have been more than a handful of minutes, since you are still alive and conscious, but time loses its meaning in a situation like this. Everything ceases to exist, save for the horrible wind and the bone-deep, soul-leaching cold. The snow is falling fast, fast enough that it’s already covered you as you try to huddle for a semblance of warmth. You’ve been buried alive, waiting to die as the world around you slowly quiets and darkens.
A morbid part of you wonders if the tribe will find you, once the snow begins to melt. You imagine Cota will insist they stay long enough to find your remains. You hope she doesn’t feel guilty; neither of you could’ve known the storm would come on so fast. Your mind wanders to Sylus, too. Did the hunters make it back home before the storm hit? You pray they did; or at least they were together when the snow began to fall. The thought of Sylus in the same situation as yourself seems impossible. You have to believe it’s impossible. Entertaining any other idea strikes a dread into your heart as cold as your little tomb. You pray instead that he’s made it back, that he is safe, and warm. And, if you’re able to be a little idealistic, perhaps wondering where you are.
Quite suddenly, a sound shatters your quiet morbidity. Stark against the background of shrieking wind, there is a deep bark. Then another, closer. Soon, there is a constant barrage of the noises.
Hope burns bright in your heart. Maybe, just maybe, all is not yet lost.
You try to shift under the snow, trying to claw your way out of your icy grave. But your limbs are trembling so hard, so frequently, that controlling them is near impossible. Worse, your muscles are becoming weak. Soon they’ll be too exhausted to even shiver, much less move the heavy snow that entombs you. Nevertheless, you have to try. You must try. Because if you don’t, your last hope of warmth will move on, and then you will truly be as good as dead.
Your efforts come to a halt when a startlingly loud crunching begins in the snow above and around you. It doesn’t take long before the blanket of snow is lifted from your head, and a warm puff of air greets your face.
You open your eyes. And instead of a blinding white storm, your vision is filled with deep brown eyes set in a furry face as black as night. The same face that Sylus has sent to accompany you on night watches and sunny days alike. You smile at the familiar creature, despite the chattering of your teeth.
“H-hey, boy.” You whisper, your numb hand reaching up to sink into the dog’s deep fur. You can still hear his brother nearby, barking furiously above the wind.
Though Sylus knows them at a glance, you've never been particularly good at telling the two dogs apart by looks. They're both black, with intelligent eyes and powerful frames. In behavior though, they are slightly different. Gerel is louder, and more playful. Khar, though quieter, is definitely the smarter of the two. He's likely the one blocking your body from the worst of the wind, now.
You try to call Gerel over as his brother curls himself around your quivering body, but it’s too hard to draw a deep breath. Instead, you lean against the one lying on you, burying your face and hands against the one reprieve from the cold. You can think of nothing else but how good the slight amount of warmth feels, even as your fingers begin to burn slightly from the frostbite. It is a promising pain, one that feels of returning life rather than looming nothingness. You doubt it will be enough to truly save you, but at least you have some source of comfort now.
Eventually Gerel goes quiet, and you begin to worry he's become lost in the storm as well. You lift your face from Khar's fur, and try again to call his brother, but fail. Khar perks up, though, his massive tail wagging a fan-shaped dent in the snow. Perhaps he can smell his brother on the fierce wind?
A few moments later, you hear it. A deep, commanding voice that cuts through the shrieking wind like a blade, calling your name.
Sylus.
You don’t know why he’s here, or if he’s even real. It may be an illusion conjured by your failing mind and body. It does not matter. Real or not, you must go to him.
You try to draw yourself up, try to call his name, but Khar remains a dead weight on you. You try to shove him, but your muscles are still shaking uncontrollably, making any efforts to dislodge Khar useless.
Please, you think desperately, please, I need to go to him. I need him, I need Sylus.
In the midst of your struggle with the animal laying on you, you very nearly miss the crunching of snow approaching you. Gerel soon appears, fur nearly white with the coating of heavy, wet snow that clings to him. And directly behind him is a sight that would make you weep if you had the breath for it.
It's Sylus. He's battered by the wind and ice as he wades through the fresh snow, only a step behind Gerel. His face bears a sharp, unwavering determination and ferocity that puts even this storm to shame as he wades through the drifts. His eyes, bright scarlet amidst the daunting white, lock onto yours. Only when his master is a single step away from you does Khar finally wiggle himself off of you. The wind immediately rips away all the warmth the dog has lent you. But you feel the loss only for a moment, as in the next breath, Sylus has yanked you bodily out of the snow and crushed you against himself.
“Found you,” his deep voice is quiet, heavy with an emotion you can’t name. And oh, oh, even if this is a dream sent to ease your last moments, you do not care. There is no one you’d rather imagine at your side right now.
He releases you, only slightly, to tug off his own gloves and put them on your trembling hands. The heat that envelopes them makes your skin burn, and a whine that is half-choked by shivers bubble out of your throat.
“Bear with it,” he murmurs, wrapping a thicker, warm deel over your current one, “You won’t be able to beat me at archery if you lose your fingers, little huntress.”
Normally, you would call him an ass, berate him for worrying about losing his archery competitor as he gave you a smug smile for taking his bait. But you can’t. Your mind is foggy, and all you can do is curl into him as he sweeps you up into his arms. You notice briefly that his eyes have narrowed again. He looks… irritated maybe? Angry? You aren’t sure. Before you can think about it for very long, though, you are distracted by a sharp whistle from Sylus, shrill and sharp even over the unending wind. It’s followed by a whinny, as his tall, powerful horse wades through the snow with a determination identical to his master’s.
Sylus walks to meet the horse halfway. He says something, and then suddenly his arm drops out from under your legs. You stumble slightly, knees buckling under your own weight as your boots drop through the knee-high snow. You are strangely surprised when you don't hit the ground, and it takes you a moment to realize that Sylus has a hold on your waist, steadying you.
Oh. He was going to set you down. That's what he had said. Of course.
You look up at him, and find a hard expression on his face. Why does he look angry now? You don’t understand.
His bright eyes bore into your own, cutting through the confusion for a moment. When his voice comes, it is a command, not a request.
“Stay with me.”
You're not sure why he's saying this. It's not like you're going anywhere. All you want right now is to just curl up and sleep, back in his arms, if possible. But you nod anyway.
Sylus swings himself up onto his horse, settling himself behind the canticle. This again confuses you. You're supposed to sit on the seat. Not behind it. But before you can continue puzzling over this, Sylus has bent half-over, wrapped an arm around you once more, and hauled you up against the side of the horse. The pressure of it is uncomfortable, and you try to squirm out of the grasp. Sylus's hold is sure, though, and before you can break it, he's hooked the other arm under your knee, and lifted you up into the seat of the saddle.
You try to brace your legs, to keep your seat as the stallion begins to move beneath you, but your vicious shivers make it difficult to control your limbs, even for an action as instinctive to you as walking. Before you can falter though, Sylus’s arm wraps around you, holding you safe and steady against him.
You do your best to keep your eyes open against the biting wind and freezing snow. But the scant amount of warmth you can feel through the thickness of both your clothes, paired with the movements of the stallion slowed by the snow, is almost hypnotic. And you are tired, oh, so tired.
“You lost this game,” he says, in that damn smug voice that always makes you want to punch his arm.
“Game?”
He gives an affirmative hum. “Hide and seek. I found you, didn't I? That's another victory for me.”
You give a grunt of disgust, still not sure what he's talking about, but irritated by the condescension in his voice all the same.
“Don't be such a sore loser, sweetie.”
You don't know why you're even sitting on the same horse as him.
“A-ass,” you hiss around the waves of shivers. “Sh-should. P-push off.”
The dark chuckle behind you is as alluring as it is infuriating. “I'd love to see you try.”
You do try, for a moment, pushing against his hold. But you are soon frustrated by how clumsy your movements are, and exhausted by the effort. Sylus's tight grip is immovable anyway.
“Seems I'm still on the horse, sweetie.” Comes the singsong mocking from behind you.
You give a grunt in response. You can't be bothered to be angry. All you can feel is the heavy tiredness dulling all your senses.
Sylus says your name, sharply. There's an odd tone to it. You don't care enough to think about why.
You're vaguely aware of being jostled. And then, for a while, you are senseless.
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The damn shivering is what wakes you. It's so violent and pervasive that it drives the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping between the waves of trembling to try and regain it. On instinct, you try to curl into yourself, but are unable to. In fact, apart from the tremors, you can’t move your body at all. You seem to be surrounded by some sort of heavy mass, pressing on every inch of you. You struggle, pushing against the weight near your face to get some breathing room. The mass grunts, then moves away for a moment, freeing your head and upper body. You have only a moment of reprieve from the claustrophobia before…
Something warm, wet, and slimy drags across your face.
“Ur-rgh!” You bring a quivering arm up to rub away the slime.
A deep chuckle rumbles behind you, the breath of it close enough to make warmth fan across the back of your skull, “Is that how you thank Khar for helping to save your life, sweetie?”
Your eyes snap open at the familiar voice; although instead of the carmine eyes and seductive smirk you expect, your vision is filled (for the second time today) by pitch-dark fur and smiling brown eyes set in a distinctly canine face. Right as that same face applies another sloppy lick to yours.
“Kh-khar!” You squeak, bringing your now-free arms up to protect your face from the onslaught of affection. “Th-thanks, but s-stop!”
Khar obediently jumps down from where you’re laying, though he gives you a pathetic whine. A further weight is removed from your lower half when Gerel reluctantly hefts himself off of you to join his brother on the floor, giving you a similarly dejected look.
Without Khar laying on you, you can see more of your surroundings. It’s clear that you’re in a yurt, one that is unfamiliar to you. The only light source is the barely-visible fire crackling complacently in the small stove at the center, leaving much of the place in shadow. Is it night, then? Why are you here? And why do your hands and feet feel like they are burning?
You flex your hands between shivers in an attempt to stop the strange, tingling heat. If anything, that seems to make the feeling sharper, more biting in its ferocity. Shifting them out from underneath a heavy woolen blanket and furs to inspect them gives no answers, given the dim light.
“Can you still feel them?” Sylus’s voice, humorless this time, cuts through the slowly-lifting fog of unconsciousness and confusion.
“H-hurts.”
“Good, that means there’s still life in them. Better than losing such pretty fingers to frostbite.” Memories come to you at the word ‘frostbite’. They are hazy, as though recalling a dream several hours after waking; the dogs finding you in the snow, warming you and guiding Sylus to you through the blinding storm, Sylus carrying you in his arms, and keeping you upright in the saddle before you drifted into unconsciousness.
“Syl-” Your words are cut short. In trying to turn to face him, you realize that his powerful arm is curled around your waist.
Your naked waist. And at your back, you do not feel the rough texture of clothes; but instead the heated, sticky kind of softness of skin on bare skin.
Your body stills in shock; suddenly, you are horribly, wonderfully conscious of every inch Sylus has pressed against you: The firmness of his chest, the sharp jut of his hips, the tangle of his legs around and between yours, and (both the most enticing and mortifying of all) the warm, heavy weight of what must be his cock nestled against your ass.
That damned smug chuckle comes again, “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice. It took you a while; maybe I should be more worried about your head than your fingers, hm?”
You stutter a few times, as your mind comes to terms with your situation, before blurting in a rush, “Where are my clothes, Sylus!? Where are yours!?”
“Ah, you mean our freezing, sopping wet clothes?” His tone is almost sing-song in its blithe news, and bereft of any shame, “I took the liberty of removing them so that you didn't continue freezing to death.”
Somehow, his complete lack of any embarrassment heightens your own, as though your mind has determined to make up the difference between the pair of you. The heated panic in combination with exhaustion, confusion, and desire collide in a nerve-wracking swirl. You scramble wildly to get up, get away from this source of searing, tumultuous emotions. But the movement of your hands makes them burn as you try to gain purchase In the blankets and furs, and his arm around you is immovable as stone. “You- I- Couldn’t you have just thrown a blanket on me or- or something!? Gods, let go!”
He gives a derisive snort. “You would have just frozen to death under a blanket instead of snow. You didn’t have any heat left to trap, so I lent you some of mine. And no.”
“No what?”
“I just risked my life in a blizzard hunting for you, and I’m not about to let all my effort go to waste when I’ve already caught my prize. So, no, I will not be letting you go.”
“This isn’t- Can’t you just put on some damned pants, at least?”
“Hm, I could… but are you sure you want me to?”
“Sylus!!”
He gives a full laugh at your flustered squeak, “Once I’m sure that you’ve completely warmed up, I will. Until then, I suggest you stay still. Unless you’d like me to warm you up a different way. But I’d suggest waiting until your hands have healed.”
He must be teasing, surely. Delighting in your embarrassment as always. Still, a tiny, idiotically hopeful part of you can’t help but wonder… if you were able to see his face right now, would you see a small glimmer of want for you underneath the inscrutable mask? You dismiss the thought quickly. Even if you were able to see his face, you’d only see that damn self-satisfied smirk that makes your stomach twist.
“The elders are going to be insufferable about this,” You mutter, desperate you lay those thoughts to rest. Well, as best as you can, considering Sylus is curled around you.
“So what? Let them talk.”
“Easy for you to say. They won’t say anything to you; you’re the one half of them are looking to marry their daughters off to.” You’re only aware of the venom in your last few words after they’ve already left your mouth. You pray Sylus doesn’t notice.
But of course he does.
“Jealous, little huntress?” You can hear the smile in his voice
“You’re an ass, do you know that?”
“I’m hurt sweetie. I run out into a storm to find my poor, lost huntress, and in return she calls me an ass.”
He gives a mock-sigh, but something in his words raises a question in your mind. Sylus had been out with the other hunters just before the storm hit. You hadn’t even been sure he would make it back to the village in time, but somehow he managed to find you?
“How did you even know I was out there?”
Sylus pauses for a moment. His voice, once he does speak, is startlingly somber. “Some of the hunting group saw the cloud wall rolling in. We rode back as fast as possible. Even so, if we’d had further to go, the wind would’ve outpaced us. I’ve never seen clouds that heavy and fast, outside of summer storms.”
“I tried to ride back too, when I saw them. But with the cold, I couldn’t feel my hands, and the rough ground…” You trail off, fully prepared to be teased about your riding skills. Instead, you feel an ever-so-slight tightening of his arm around you. You wonder if he’s even aware of his own movement.
Sylus continues, “When we arrived, people came out to greet us and help get everything secured before the worst of the storm. I didn’t see you throwing people out of the way like usual.”
“I do not throw people out of the way,” You mutter.
“If you say so, little huntress.” You can hear the smile in his voice for a moment, though it disappears when he continues, “I found Cota, and asked where you were. When she said you were out shepherding, I knew you wouldn’t make it back before the snow came. So, I took Khar and Gerel, and had them track you.”
“Was anyone else missing?”
“We’ll find out after the storm.”
The two of you are quiet for a moment, as you process his response. He didn’t notice anyone else was gone. He didn’t ask to see if any others were lost. He didn’t bother to try and search for anyone else in the snow.
He noticed you were missing.
He asked where you were.
He went into the storm for you.
“You… Sylus, were you out in that storm, just to find me?”
A small, humorless huff of laughter fans across the back of your skull again. “I wasn’t out there just taking a stroll, sweetie.”
“You could’ve lost Gerel and Khar. And your horse. And your life.”
“Worried about me, hm?”
Of course you were. Sylus is a strong, clever man. Perhaps the greatest warrior and hunter your tribe has known; but even the greatest of mortals are brought to their knees by the forces of nature and the whims of chance. You want to tell him all this, tell him that the thought of him standing alone amidst the howling winds, searching for the path to safety… even just thinking about it makes your chest feel as empty and cold as the storm still raging outside. Your breath catches, and you cannot force the words, glutted with feelings as they are, out of your throat.
So instead you reply, “It’s a big risk to take.”
“Maybe.” His tone is nonchalant, as though he is talking about what he’d brought home from hunting, rather than the act of risking his dearest possessions and life trying to save you in near-hopeless conditions. “But I don’t gamble unless the prize is worth the risk.”
It takes you a moment to digest the words, heart caught in your throat, hardly daring to believe that you’ve understood him correctly. A fragile but brilliant hope lights in your chest. You had been aware of the friendship that had begun to form between you and Sylus, and you had been aware of your desire to be something more to him, to be someone he wanted. But you hadn’t dared to imagine occupying a position of such value to him.
“You think I’m worth all that…?”
You don’t mean to say the words aloud, but the exhaustion loosens your lips just enough for them to spill out. Immediately your stomach lurches at a strange, shifting fear. Perhaps speaking the thought aloud has crossed some sort of line, daring the universe to snuff out your hope just as it had been lit.
A soft, teasing lilt returns to his voice as he speaks, “I believe that’s what I just said, little huntress. Hm, maybe I should be more concerned about your head.” The hand that isn’t curled around your middle gives the top of your head a soft tap, tap, tap.
A small, breathless laugh bubbles up out of your chest, the hope within you flaring bright and making your heart race. You don’t know how he manages to do it; to convey something as heartfelt as ‘you are worth risking my life and all I hold dear’, while simultaneously sounding like it’s the most simple thing in the world. Something that should be obvious even to a small child.
It’s a special talent you’ve noticed in Sylus ever since that day with the wolf pups; he makes you want to throttle him one moment, and in the next breath he’ll speak with such sincere simplicity that it utterly disarms you. He somehow manages to walk that fine line between keeping you on your toes with bantering, and keeping you grounded with his forthrightness. It's addictive. It's comforting. You're not even sure if it's something he tries to do, or if his natural state of being is just something that draws your soul in effortlessly.
You need to face him.
You turn in his grasp to look at him, trying to ignore the burst of prickling heat in your hands. It's worth the pain. Sylus is a striking picture in the low light; all silvery tousled hair, gold skin, and sanguine eyes, graced by a rare look of surprise for just a moment.
And then his face relaxes into a soft look, one you've started to see more and more, but never fails to make your heart race faster than a horse galloping over the grass sea.
“There you are,” he murmurs, voice rough and low. And you simply cannot help it. Frostbite be damned. You might die if you don't kiss him, and you've come close enough to that today already. You have to kiss him.
The press of your lips against his is insistent, but chaste. At least, at first. Sylus takes in a sharp breath, and for a fraction of a second you wonder if you've misread, if you've pushed too far. And then, his mouth becomes soft, and pliant, and something in your chest melts when the arm he has around you slides up your spine to press at the nape of your neck, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. A pleased sigh escapes you, unbidden. Before you are quite aware of your own movements, your hand is at his jaw, cupping his face, trying to pull him closer.
A new flare of pain sears your hand at the pressure, and you reflexively pull away with a hiss.
You open your eyes (when did they close?) to see Sylus, pupils blown wide, looking at you with that same sort of ferocity and determination you saw in him earlier, when your eyes met his in the storm. And for a moment, caught in that unwavering intensity, you swear your heart forgets how to beat.
His eyes remain fixed on your own as he takes your wrist and gently (too gently) moves it away from his face, which has settled back into its usual near-arrogant smirk. Reality crashes in on you then. You are in Sylus's yurt, kissing him, sharing a bed, naked. The realization is followed by a disorienting mix of embarrassment, pride, shame, and excitement. You've just kissed him for the first time, and you know if it weren't for the pain in your hands you would have taken as much as he would give you. Begged for it, maybe. What does he think of you now? How much would he let you take? What would you tell everyone once you left here?
But as usual, when your mind threatens to whirl itself into chaos, Sylus cuts through it.
“I'll have to collect on that part of my prize later, little huntress,” He murmurs, and you wonder if it is merely your imagination, or if he is actually as breathless as you are. His thumb strokes across the soft skin at the underside of your wrist, across the vein where your pulse is thrumming like a caught hare's. “I want to see what those pretty hands can do to me when they're all healed.”
Hearing him say it out loud makes the embarrassment resurface with a vengeance, and the barely-leashed heat in Sylus's gaze makes it unbearable. Breaking the stare, you take your hand back and shuffle under the blankets once more, until the hem falls across your cheek.
Sylus's amused chuckle earns him a glare from you, but your indignation is quickly soothed over as he drags his fingers through your hair, across your scalp, gently untangling the strands. After a few minutes, the gentle scratching opens the door for a wave of exhaustion, heightened by the warm darkness and the muffled howling of the winter winds outside.
You wonder, vaguely, if the touch was meant in apology, or to make you drowsy. You're not sure it matters. Sylus is here, looking at you with that affectionate, soft smile, as your lips begin to flutter.
“Sleep, shevonica,” is the last thing you hear before drifting into unconsciousness. This time, in the safety and warmth of Sylus’s hold.
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lara4eclipze · 3 days ago
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Hey so this is a very quick response but I’ve kinda had this idea sitting for a fat minute lol.. ANYWAY could you do like a slight angst fic where Yoonchae has a crush on the reader but the reader has a crush on a boy??
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›› c'est la vie
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sypnosis -» yoonchae has the hardest time confessing to you — with the kats by her side she finally takes the first step
beware -» fluff , slight angst , confession , very short fic , swearing , loser yooonchae ,
talks -» combined this two asks , I'm writing this instead of writing my marz fic since erm idk how the story is going, hope y'all like it mwa
taglist (open): @nyssalvr @ohmyhaely @vrtualstar @jellaaa @c-yerim
yoonchae was whipped the minute she saw you , the way your hair frames your face , how your lips were perfect and every time you smiled her day would've been made in an instant
yet there was one problem — you were "straight" , I mean everyone in the friend group knows you like arkin but no one really approved of it , you were top of your classes and arkin was the complete opposite
yoonchae was obviously very heartbroken to know you like someone like that , I mean cant you just look at her for a minute instead of falling in love with a man who can't even study even if his life depends on it?
"we should go here" megan exclaims showing a newly opened café — the café wasn't that far but it had the amazing view of the scenery of the city
"oh my gosh it's so cute!!" sophia says excitedly , you took a peek and it was amazing , plus you all needed a break from school anyways
"let's go later?" lara asks already checking if the place is open at night on her phone
"sure!!"
"I'm down"
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
it was actually a plan by the girls , no the café wasn't new , they knew that they had to help out yoonchae , the girl was actually a loser — I mean everytime you talked about arkin it was obvious that yoonchae was disinterested the way her eye suddenly look hurt and upset
"you got this, calm down your sweating" megan teases the youngest , as yoonchae was getting the flowers and bracelet ready
"what if I mess up in front of her , what if she rejects me?!" yoonchae stammers her mind racing with thoughts , "hey listen to me , that wouldn't happen okay?" megan pipes up
their conversation got cut short when you , lara and sophia were finally in the café , you scan the place and went to the table you saw megan, yoonchae , manon and dani sit in
"hi , sorry we're late , LA traffic y'know" you apologize, sitting down you were a tad bit confused on why the girls were exchanging looks , you wanted to know what that meant why yoonchae seemed off , why megan kept looking at you and yoonchae
"what's wrong? — did I miss something?" you ask , sophia bumps yoonchae , "oh- uh can we maybe talk outside?" yoonchae asks which you nod to
you two walked outside, the view was wonderful, city lights and a cold breeze in the air
"why ,what did you want to tell me yoonie?" you ask curiously , the younger looks at you with sparkles in her eyes she looked amazing
"y/n i-i- I like you" yoonchae finally says handing you the flowers and the bracelet , for a moment you were frozen in spot , you didn't know what to say neither if you even can say anything
"I'm sorry, I know you like arkin I should've just not done this" the younger says , she turns to walk back in , but you stop her , you felt the same way yet you never knew that yoonchae liked you
"I like you too , and no I don't like arkin I don't know where you got that from but he's my cousin" you chuckle
"you do?! — oh my gosh this is so embarrassing!" yoonchae exclaims , you laugh at how the younger seemed to panic
"I knew the plan — you're not slick yoonie the minute I walked in here i already saw the bracelet and flowers, I'm just surprised it took you this long to confess" you admit to her , she was flushed god she so adorable
"now lets go back in — I love you yoonie" you say to her as you held her hand and walked back in the café earning you giggles and teasing from the rest
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"what now?" yoonchae asks as you both stand outside her house
"we'll figure it out , that's life right?" you replied smiling at her
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waynes-multiverse · 1 day ago
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I was soooooooo excited for this! *breathes in sharply* Okay let's get started 🍿😎👏
“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.”
I love their friendship so much 😂 And kudos to Dory. It takes a lot to agree to this. It could potentially get very awkward 😝
“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”
God, I know. This is honestly what I think about the most when I watch Tracker. The whole story line is insane and intriguing and... 😅 I have a thousand questions, and there's so much you could do with it in fics. I love it (clearly) 😂🤍
Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”
I do think Russell knows a lot more about their past than he lets on. Also, he was way too chipper for someone who was accused of patricide by his own brother for twenty years. The dynamic between the brothers is just... interesting 👀
Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.
Right... 😆
“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 
Oh, she's going full Reagan! 😂 I sense some trouble coming from the brother, though...
“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”
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Well, I hope he already picked out his casket... 🙈💀
“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.
I'd be a puddle before I even made it to the damn seat 🫠
And they are literally so cute together! I'm full on swooning over here 😍
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Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.
Ah, yes, the family business. Love that sublte hint 😆 Would be a good name for a brewery, tho 👍
He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.
I like that you emphasized the darker parts of his life. Like I said, I don't buy his whole "I'm happy and funny and quirky" act. There's a lot more stirring beneath the charming surface 😅 (Another thing he has in common with Dean lol)
And oh, don't we love a good cry on the first date? Poor thing 😂🤍
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“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said. “Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.” He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”
Indeed 😂 I would've loved to be a fly on the wall when Dory had this conversation with her lol
How he very eloquently avoided talking about Colter accusing him of murdering their father. I wanna be a fly on the wall for that future convo too 🤣
And he slapped you right on the ass.
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Loved that she got a punch in before even Russell got there. He might have actually killed that pig lmao
“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.
I'm having vivid flashbacks to Smoke Eater 🥵🔥
But his hands were gentle for you.
This line just about killed me... 🫠🫠🫠
“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”
I appreciate that kind of humor 😂😂
“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.
I absolutely can see him saying that 💯😂
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He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car.
Probably one of my favorite scenes is when characters are so hot for each other they lean against a car. There's just something so incredibly passionate about it 🔥🫠
“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.
Oh, Russell, this is not what the lady wants to hear. Bless him tho 😂
And I figured she wanted more than a one-night-stand or fling. His job and lifestyle truly is a bit of a problem. But he wanted out anyways, so... 🤞
I loved their first date! 😍🤍 Hopefully, they'll see each other again soon and might give this another shot. I have a feeling it's gonna involve her brother's bullshit somehow 😅
Every Second Counts - Part 1
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Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 
AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.
Word Count: 5.7K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~
💜 Series Masterlist
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Part 1: "Permission Granted"
“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 
You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.
Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.
“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.
After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.
“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 
Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.
“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”
“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”
Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.
He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…
“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.
“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”
“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.
“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”
You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.
“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.
“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”
Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”
You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 
“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.
“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.
You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.
“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”
Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.
You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.
“Goodnight,” you called.
“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.
You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.
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After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.
Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.
The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.
Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.
His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.
He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.
“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.
You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.
“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”
He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.
“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”
You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.
“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 
Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 
“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.
“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”
“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”
The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.
“How much?” you asked.
He frowned up at you. “What?”
“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  
“It’s okay, don’t worry—”
“How much,” you pressed.
He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.
“About two grand,” he admitted.
You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.
“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.
Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”
You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.
“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.
Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.
“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  
His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.
“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.
“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”
“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.
“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.
“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.
“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”
Your mouth fell open incredulously.  
“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”
You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 
By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.
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The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.
You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.
You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.
“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.
“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.
You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.
“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”
You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.
“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.
Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”
He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.
“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.
Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.
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After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.
“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.
You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.
Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.
Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.
“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.
Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.
You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.
“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”
“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”
You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”
You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.
“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.
Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.
“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”
Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”
“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”
“After?” he prompted.
You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”
Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.
He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.
You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.
“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”
You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.
You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”
He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.
“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.
It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.
God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.
“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.
Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.
“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.
“What’s his name?” Russell asked.
“Charlie.”
“Older or younger than you?”
“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”
Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?
Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.
“What do you think?” you asked.
“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”
You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.
You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.
“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.
Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?
“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”
He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”
He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 
“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.
Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”
His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 
“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.
You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 
“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”
Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”
You gave a weak smile.
“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 
His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.
An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.
“Well. Heavy, huh?”
You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.
“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 
“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.
“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”
“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.
“Come on,” you said.
He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”
“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.
Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.
“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.
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And he was true to his word.
Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.
“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.
He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.
“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.
“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.
You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.
“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.
Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.
You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.
He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).
“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”
“Like that matters,” you quipped back.
You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.
And he slapped you right on the ass.
You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.
Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.
Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.
His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.
“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.
"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.
“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”
His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.
Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.
“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.
“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.
“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.
Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.
“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”
If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.
You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”
Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.
You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.
You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.
Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.
And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.
I like this, you thought. And I like him.
However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.
"I'm okay," you tried.
"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."
“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.
“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.
Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.
“Feelin’ better?” he asked.
Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”
You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.
But his hands were gentle for you.
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“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.
“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”
“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”
Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.
He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.
“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.
“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”
Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.
“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”
You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.
“She?” you intoned.
“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.
You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.
“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.
You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.
“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.
Russell decided he’d take that bet.
He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.
But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.
He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.
You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.
You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.
Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.
His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.
His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.
You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.
“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.
You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.
“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 
You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 
“How long are you really in town?” you asked.
His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”
“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”
“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 
Your heart tugged, almost painfully.
“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 
You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 
“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 
After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.
“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 
Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.
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Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.
After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.
You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.
When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.
Charlie still wasn’t home.
Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.
And it worried you even more.
I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 
— C.
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AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂
And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?
Next Time:
Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.
“You should call the police,” she advised.
You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.
You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.
“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:
“Colter, the tracker.”
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2
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Series Masterlist
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Russell Shaw Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Russell S. Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373
@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum
@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady
@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy
@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad
@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73
@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj
@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways
@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato
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munsonkitten · 2 days ago
Text
Eddie looks over at him and sees the way Steve’s grinning as he looks ahead toward the dark road. The song ends and another begins, and Steve’s smile gets a little bit bigger.
Nobody on the road.
Nobody on the beach.
“This song’s kind of gay,” Eddie points out, turning up the volume just a little bit more.
“What? No, it’s about a girl.”
“Who are the boys of summer, then?”
“Uh. Baseball? Like, the players.”
“Well,” Eddie grins. “Apparently Don plays for our team.”
“No,” Steve says, glancing over at Eddie. “Like Major League Baseball, Ed. They play in the summer. The song’s about a girl and she leaves when summer’s over, right? And baseball is a metaphor for summer. America’s pastime. Summer, baseball, boys of summer is baseball. I think it’s named after a book, think I might’ve read that in an interview.”
“Well, it sounds fucking gay.”
“It’s about a girl!”
“So maybe he swings both ways.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Do you think he pitches or catches?”
“Oh my god, can you just —” Steve huffs, and changes the station mid-song.
But then he laughs to himself, shaking his head. He turns the radio station back.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says.
“Yeah, or what?”
“Or I’d leave you on the side of the road for being so goddamn annoying.”
There’s no heat behind the words. In fact, there’s a breathtaking smile on Steve’s face when he looks away from the road to glance at Eddie. The look Steve gives him can only be described as fond, and Eddie could just about cry over having someone look at him like that.
Against Eddie’s better judgment, he sits up in his seat and smacks a kiss to Steve’s lips. Steve yanks his head away with a squawk of, “I’m driving!”
“Sorry, Stevie, but you’re cute too,” Eddie says. “Couldn’t resist.”
“When we get in a wreck, you’re paying for the repairs.”
Eddie puts his hands up in surrender and settles back into his seat. “No can do. I’m not the trust-fund kid.”
“I know, so you’d better stop kissing me while I’m driving, baby.”
Eddie behaves for the rest of the drive — for the most part.
from chapter 5 of “sugar on my tongue”
read on AO3
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