#a strong front with a sweeter note

[bluemantics]

Ring, a small bell tinkled, signaling the entrance of someone into the bar.

“We’re closed,” Lance called from behind the bar, rubbing it down with a cloth. Cream-colored towel smoothed alcohol stains off of the deep mahogany, and Lance stepped back for a moment to take a break and admire his work.

“Do I not get an exception?” a thick western accent drawled. Lance’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

“Keith,” he murmured. There he stood, just in front of the door, his whole outfit white and black save for his red boots. Lance loved those. They were proof that Keith could be sentimental, if anything.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lance said into the silence. He couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his accent and Keith’s, the irony of him telling Keith to leave. “It’s not safe, Red.”

“Pfft.” Keith sidled up to the bar, a dangerous gleam in his deep purple eyes. Lance shuddered. “Since when has danger ever stopped me… or you, apparently?”

Lance froze, halfway turned to clean up the back wall. “Sorry, what do you mean?”

Keith reached over the bar to grab himself a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass, staring at it and swirling it under his palm, gaze now turned down to the drink instead of Lance.

“What would the people of this sweet ol’ town say if they knew that their kindly bartender was not just hangin’ round with the fearsome outlaw Red, but was an outlaw himself?” Keith quickly looked up to see Lance, expression flint, waiting for the other foot to drop. “Ain’t that right, Blueshot?”

BANG.

Keith stumbled back, hands scrabbling for purchase in his coats, but Lance hopped over the bar in a smooth motion and grabbed his collar. He quickly shoved Keith back to the wall, pressing his back to the dark blue paint. Keith’s hands came up.

“That,” Lance hissed, pointing to the hole in the wall next to Keith’s head. “Was a warning shot, got that? I’m living a fine life right now, alright sweet cheeks? Don’t need anyone screwin’ that up for me. We clear?”

They were barely an inch apart. Lance’s measures breath mingled with Keith’s fast panting, but despite Keith’s obvious distress Lance stayed stock still. Keith’s eyes snapped to the pearl-handled revolver in Lance’s left hand.

He’d shot that with his left hand.

“Fuck, fuck,” Keith huffed. “Yeah. We clear, Blue, just get off, Jesus Christ.”

Lance just hummed, looking down at Keith with an expression he’d never seen on the previously peaceful bartender.

“I dunno,” he purred. “I kind of like you like this.”

Keith’s jaw dropped, failing to form a coherent word.

After a far-too-long (short?) pause, Lance pushed away from him. The gun vanished somewhere at his side. Keith came away from the wall, collecting himself.

“So now what?” Keith demanded, rubbing at his collar.

“Now,” Lance said easily, rolling up his sleeves to clean up more. “Maybe I’ll let you come back if you keep it a goddamn secret. And maybe I’ll see you around more now that we got somethin’ in common. That is, if you don’t get caught.”

Keith looked down to his forearm. A blazing symbol was on his skin, right below his elbow, a… V, just like his own but in blue.

“Alright.”

“Now get out of the bar, Kogane.”

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to their s/o wearing parfum

As usual, if you'd like to read more of my work, I have an ongoing Arcane fanfiction, Everytime It Rains (based on the alternative timeline). Click here! to read it. As for this headcanon, I had run out of my perfume stash and just restocked with Scandal, Black Opium, Honey Aoud, and Bianco Latte (all sweet with vanilla notes). So, this headcanon is my way of channeling the euphoria of my perfume obsession.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |

Jayce:

He’s not overly sensitive to perfumes. If you spray it while in the same room as him, he doesn’t feel the need to leave because he can’t breathe.

For this very reason, it always takes him a little while—not to notice it, but to figure out where it’s coming from.

The sweeter the scent, the more likely his first assumption is that you’ve bought or baked something sweet while he wasn’t around.

When you laugh and tell him there are no sweets and it’s your new perfume, he’s a little embarrassed but in a sweet, endearing way.

He’ll hug you, press his nose into the crook of your neck, and take in as much of the scent as he can to memorize it.

He doesn’t have issues with any scent. Sweeter ones make him sniff you more often because they make his mouth water, while spicier, “evening” notes are something he enjoys when you’re resting against him.ù

Viktor:

He’s very sensitive to perfumes; freshly sprayed scents give him headaches and make him feel short of breath.

This is probably a lingering effect from Zaun—his body reacts viscerally the moment the air isn’t clean and well-oxygenated.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate it. You just need to let the alcohol component fade a bit before getting close to him, or at least spray it in another room.

He’s a bit more reserved than others; he’ll sniff it from your wrist while holding it lightly.

“Mh… yes, I’ve always dreamed of being in a relationship with a pastry shop.”

“You mean a pastry chef.”

“No, I know what I said.”

Ekko:

This man is a truffle dog; he notices the moment you arrive with a different scent.

His talent is playing it cool, becoming flirtier, and acting like a caricature of a gentleman trying to court you.

He prefers spicier scents to sweeter ones. If you wear something with vanilla notes, he’ll tease you, saying you smell like “the cake served by a Piltie’s servants,” but he doesn’t actually dislike it.

If a mission is particularly bad or he has a bad feeling about the day, he’ll ask you to spray some of your perfume on a handkerchief he keeps in his pocket, so he can hold on to your scent and feel closer to you.

Vander:

You could spray it directly into his nose, and he couldn’t care less. With the bar, he’s used to strong smells from cleaning products, spirits, and late-night disasters.

The alcohol in perfumes doesn’t bother him.

The downside is that he doesn’t notice it right away—he just doesn’t pay attention to it.

He generally tries to give you his full attention, but these little details sometimes slip past him. When you point it out, he’ll immediately try to make up for it if he remembers noticing something different in the air that day.

He’ll sniff it from your neck, slowly moving downward, justifying it as “trying to see how it blends with your natural scent.”

Silco (old man):

He prefers bold perfumes with character, like amber or woody scents, and finds excessively sweet ones rather childish.

He won’t hesitate to share this opinion in front of you.

He’s the kind of man who enjoys tobacco, wears Acqua di Giò, drinks warm whiskey—in short, he favors bitter and spicy notes.

But that won’t stop him from quickly growing accustomed to the scent he initially disliked so much, the one that makes you recognizable even as you ascend the stairs.

He’ll look for something similar or with complementary notes to gift you himself, though he’ll never admit that he’s come to appreciate it.

Silco (young man):

It’s rare for there to be an occasion to wear perfume, which is why the same evening you show up at the bar wearing it, he notices immediately.

He doesn’t have a particular preference for perfumes. But his love language is sarcasm, so regardless, he’ll make an ironic (but not mean) comment before telling you it suits you.

When you’re away, he’ll look for a piece of your clothing with the strongest scent to sleep with so he can feel close to you. When he’s the one far away, he’ll ask you to give him something, anything, with a bit of your scent on it.

He won’t sniff you in public—only when you’re alone, in private.

Jinx:

She loves sweet scents and hates bitter or overly amber ones.

“You smell like a pastry.”

The sweeter the perfume, the more likely you’ll catch her sniffing you or your things, just a moment before she clutches her stomach, whining about craving chocolate, caramel, or something sweet.

She’ll ask for a spritz of your perfume too, so she can smell as if “she just walked out of a bakery.” too

She prefers when you spray it in her hideout or in one of her rooms, so it clings to things and improves the overall smell.

Vi:

She doesn’t notice it right away because it’s not the sort of thing she pays attention to.

On one hand, she doesn’t love perfumes or anything that covers up natural scents. She prefers your smell—your skin’s scent—the one that drives her wild.

On the other hand, perfume is a fancy thing that hasn’t been much of a reality in her life, except for the cologne Vander used to wear.

Which was suffocating because he always overdid it.

She prefers spicier scents over sweet ones but doesn’t dislike anything.

She’ll kiss your hand and offer her arm, mimicking a fancy Piltover couple, babbling nonsense about non-existent upcoming galas and the finest shoe polish brands.

Caitlyn:

“How does she react?” When? When she’s accompanying you to buy it?

If you’re torn between more than one perfume, she’ll buy you the other without letting you know.

She notices immediately when you wear it, smiles at you, lifts your face, and kisses you with the unspoken understanding that this small indulgence is your personal little secret.

Those days tend to heat up quickly, often ending on the bed before you even realize it.

For the most important evenings, she’ll suggest which one you should wear.

Mel:

She hates overly sweet perfumes, finding them suffocating and cloying.

She doesn’t overdo her own perfume either, spraying twice into the air and walking through the mist so it’s not too strong or unnatural.

She prefers it once it’s already faded, so she can still breathe when she kisses you.

Ultimately, she’ll grow accustomed to whatever you wear. Sure, she’d prefer a citrusy or more floral scent, but as long as it’s on you, anything is acceptable.

Sevika:

She prefers none at all. She likes the natural scent of skin, whether it’s faint or strong.

She finds perfumes draw too much attention.

She’d never tell you this outright, though. However, if your perfume is too sweet, she’ll tease you, saying she didn’t realize she was dating a brioche. If it’s too strong and bitter, she’ll joke that you’re giving her PTSD and making her feel like she’s at work.

She doesn’t mind when you wear it on nights out together, because if someone notices the scent and turns around, they’ll see you’re with her.

[darnell-la]

please give me nasty ass hate sex with Logan in the xmansion turns out he’s a dick but one with feelings for you and you matched his energy and he got pissy and upset then confessed after hate sex xx

note: aggressive Logan might be the best Logan.

———

“Knew I should’ve rode with Scott,” y/n said as she leaned back in Logan’s passenger side seat to look out of the window. Logan’s known for driving for a good five minutes before saying something he knew she didn’t want to hear.

“I’m just askin’ why the fuck you’re so hooked on that man. Ain’t he with Jean?” Logan asked, making y/n scoff. “Yes, Logan — That’s why we’re not dating! We barely talk, only as friends. Jesus!”

“Don’t seem like friends when you’re giggling and grabbing the man,” Logan shrugged his shoulders as he kept his eyes on the dark long road. “We’re just friends, and Jean is around us all the time,”

“Aren’t you the one who tried getting at her while she was with Scott!? And you’re fuckin’ talkin' about me — the ignorance,” y/n rolled her eyes as the man’s grip on his steering wheel tightened.

“That was long before you got here. Over her now,” Logan said, making y/n laugh. “Yeah, or maybe you’re shitty because a woman finally didn’t want you over a sweeter guy,” y/n pouted in his face for a few seconds before leaning back into her seat again.

“I get what I want, alright? There was just no need to try with her. Too much work,” Logan said. God, y/n hated him. He hated Scott more for making her ride with Logan to get some talk time in.

“Yeah, of course it was. Bet I could get her before you,” y/n said, only wanting to make the man mad, and it did. “You already slut for Scott, so how about you get him,” his tone was stern.

“I don’t slut for him! Like, are you jealous or some shit? Let’s be for real, because you always have something to say about the man and me. Everyday day!”

“Jealous!? Yeah, you fuckin’ wish I was jealous of someone like Scott. Anything he has, I can get,” Logan scoffed, really thinking he could. “Where is Jean then?” Y/n asked as she turned towards him, with a fake confused face.

“Where the fuck is she then? Because she ain’t here,” y/n said. “Can you just shut the fuck up,” Logan said low, keeping his eyes on the road to avoid eye contact with the young lady.

“No, I wanna know where the anything he has, I can get, is at,” y/n continued, making the man’s blood from her smart mouth. “Where Logan!?” Y/n yelled at him.

“Shut the fuck up!” Logan took his eyes off of the road and leaned towards y/n speaking through his teeth and tone sounding like a growl. Y/n shrugged her shoulders with a roll in her eyes before sitting back in the passenger seat.

“That’s fuckin’ it,” Logan slammed on the brakes before putting the car in part. The angry man exited his vehicle, slammed the door behind him, and walked around the back to get to y/n.

Y/n was confused, not thinking he would leave her out there, so she just assumed he got out to cool down. Y/n laughed low, thinking she finally got the man before her door swung open.

“Get the fuck out,” Logan cussed as he grabbed y/n by her forearm. “Hey, get the fuck off of me!” Y/n shouted as she tried pulling back, but the man was strong, leaving her door open and dragging her around to the front of his car.

Logan slammed y/n’s upper body on top of the hood, making her cry out from the short pain. The way he handled her was rough, but she wanted to act rough, right? So she’ll get it.

“Get the fuck off of me, you dumb bitch!” Y/n called the man out of her name, making him grab the back of her neck to pull her up then slam her back into the hood.

“Keep runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth, and ima ruin it,” Logan threatens the girl, making her keep quiet but she kept fighting, wiggling and kicking under him.

“That’s what I thought. Keep quiet, bitch. Always runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth like you don’t got a hole to fill,” Logan had his cock pulled over his jeans and belt. Now he’s tugging at her x men suit he refuses to wear.

“L-Logan-“ y/‘ tried saying, but he did the same as last time, slamming her onto his hood. “You tell me what to do one time, and ima hurt you, and ion think a pretty girl like you wants that, don’t you?” Logan had brought his claws out next to her face to intimidate her, and it worked.

She wasn’t scared of the man. Not one bit. She just knew how angry he could get, and that he was too strong to not get what he was shooting for her.

“Telling me I don’t get what Scott gets. You think you’re fuckin’ hard to get? Huh!? You think your little whore ass is hard to stuff and impress?”

“Oh, Bub, you gotta be dumb as fuck if you think you ain’t. All I gotta do is stuff this pretty little thing, then treat you right. Give you money, gifts, and massages,” Logan leaned down towards the girl's heart as he dragged his fingers across her now exposed pussy.

“Bet you want that, don’t you, baby? I don’t mind. Don’t mind keepin’ you to myself so I don’t have to see that bastard hands all over you again,”

Logan pushed to fingers into the girl, curling instantly to get a reaction out of her, and he did. A good one that he’s dreamt of hearing.

“Knew you wanted me. Just look at how much you’re clenching my fingers,” Logan teased as y/n shifted on the hood of his car, trying her best to keep in her moans or show how good this felt, but she failed.

“It’s okay, baby — Don’t gotta feel embarrassed. Been smellin’ this pussy for months when you’re around me. Wet as a fuckin’ waterpark. So fuckin’ wet,” Logan groaned at the smell he’d been secretly sniffing at for forever.

“P-Please, stop that,” y/n begged, feeling him curl in the best places he could ever curl in. He knew where she needed it, which made this whole situation seem more hot to her.

“Why? Gonna cum? Thought you hated me. Now you’re gonna leak on my fingers. So fuckin’ pathetic,” Logan growled in the girl's ear, pressing his body on her to give her a better feeling.

“Cum for me, y/n — Cum so I can stuff you with my cock. Been hard ever since your sexy ass stepped in my car. Always smellin’ so fuckin’ good,” Logan sniffed the girl's neck, making her whine at the thought of Logan being that obsessed with her.

Y/n couldn’t hold anything back anymore. She came around his fingers with a loud and broken moan, hearing his own grunting in her ear. He was getting off on making her feel good.

“Ah huh — My good girl soakin’ my fingers for me. So fuckin’ good for me,” Logan pulled his fingers out of her and then sucked on them, licking every inch with an eye roll. She tasted amazing.

“For a bitch, you do taste good,” Logan said, calling her out of her name to get a reaction, and he did. Y/n lifted her body to turn around and swing, but he quickly slammed her back on his car with a chuckle.

“You worm stronger than me, baby girl. Gonna have to take my mouth for a few more minutes,” she could hear the smirk on his face, and she hated it. She hated him, but god were his fingers magical.

Before y/n could think of anything to say or do, Logan squeezed his cock in her hole, pushing and stretching her until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“What’s up, baby? To much? Too much cock to talk back to me?” Logan asked as her cries cracked. She felt pressure in her stomach. He was huge, and he knew that. He’s always wanted to watch her take him.

“C’mon, baby, talk back. Call me a bitch. Say I can’t get a woman to save my life. Say I can’t get you. Tell me you’re not easy, and I’ll pull out of this leaky cunt,” Logan said, knowing she wouldn’t and couldn’t say anything.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. Keep that fuckin’ mouth shut from now on, or I’ll tear you just like this in front of the crew,” Logan told no lie. He was an animal, and marking what was his was what he was best at.

“Yeah, I know, baby. So fuckin’ big. Gonna give you this every day. Train you to take my cock, and my cock only. I’ll know when you’ve been a whore. I’ll know if you let Scott touch you,”

“And let me tell you if he does. If he does, y/n, I swear to god, I’ll fuck the mutant outta you. I’ll make you a brain-dead human. Make you so fuckin’ dumb on my cock, he won’t even want you anymore. Only I will,”

Logan tugged y/n’s hair, making her back arch and her ear meet his mouth. “Gonna breed this lil girl, then take you back to my room. You’re around me twenty-four seven, now. You ride with me, and me only. I catch this pretty ass on Scott’s motorcycle, and I’ll fuckin’ claw it off,”

Logan couldn’t stop threatening y/n. He wanted her to know she belonged to him, and no one else. After he stuck his cock in, he was going to make her know that. This was finally a time to mark her.

“Mhm hm — So good. So so good,” Logan whispered in the brisk ear as his cock twitched. Y/n whined, knowing he was close. Before she could tell him to pull out, he began filling her up.

Y/n cried low, scared of what he just did, but at the same time, he seemed like he was going to do anything to make her keep it. The way he talked to her and handled her like she’s been his forever, made the situation feel better.

“Fuck,” Logan breathed out as he let y/n’s hair go and leaned on her back, cum still spilling in her as her walls clenched around him.

“Fuck,” Logan said, this time in a different done. In a more what did I do tone. “Fuck, y/n,” Logan pulled out of the girl and fixed himself up quickly, feeling his heartbeat raise.

“Y/n, we gotta- I- Fuck, I don’t know what I just did,” he admitted. “Shit,” Logan pulled y/n off of his car hood slowly before turning her around to rest and a more comfortable way.

“You still here, baby?” Logan asked, hands rubbing her cheek to comfort her. “Mhm hm,” she mummed, making him smile slightly. “Good. Thought I lost you for a second,” he chuckle.

“Wanna go back to my room to rest? Kinda had a long, uh, long ride?” He said. “Wanna go to my room. Scott was supposed to meet me-“ Y/n cut herself off with a laugh, watching his face drop.

“That shit ain’t funny,” Logan said as she kept laughing. “You ain’t goin’ back to your room. As a matter of fact, I’m moving your shit to mine,” Logan pulled y/n off of the car and guided her back to the passenger seat.

“I was just playing, Logan. When I say me and him are friends, I mean it,” y/n assured the man. “Don’t care,” Logan shut the door in her face before going back to his driver's seat.

“Logan,” y/n said as he got in the car silently. The man ignored her and started the car, upset Scott’s name was brought up in any way. He hated that. He only wanted his name to roll off of her tongue.

“Logan,” y/n leaned over to him to rest her head on his shoulder. “Don’t think that’s gonna work, Bub,” Logan said, face on the road with no emotion.

“Mhmkay,” the girl lifted her head up to lean back in her seat, but Logan stopped her with his right hand and pulled her back. “Ian says you can move though,” he said, making her laugh.

Logan chuckled before placing a kiss on her forehead, not knowing how he got here, but he knew it was right. He knew this little thing he’d been having towards her was just some middle school love.

[anzulvr]

Thank you for follow back! >.> meant a lot to me. Is it okay if I request a Karma x reader where the reader is very sweet & affectionate towards Karma & it makes him shy. No pressure. Just wanted to say hi & thank you! ^_^

♡ ୨୧ Karma with affectionate Reader ୨୧ ♡

ʚɞ fluff; no warnings || Karma Akabane ♥︎ note : HIII HII SORRY THIS IS LIKE CENTURIES LATE SHEA… guys pls tell me if you see typos I checked but I get sick of reading my own things again and again… 😭|| ʚɞ

— Karma is inexperienced when it comes to relationships therefore when you’re affectionate and sweet to him he doesn’t know how to act!!

His face canonically gets super red when he’s embarrassed though it’s not an often thing because he can usually shake things off with a joke! When it does happen it’s finally your chance to get back at him for all the times he’s purposely taken weird photos of you.

He’d be shy with PDA (when he’s not trying to embarrass you, since he’s also the type to mortify you by calling you the stupidest pet names in front of your friends and family.)

If you react strongly it's worse because he loves getting you mad and rilled up it's like his love language. Some people like giving gifts or giving words of affirmation to their s/o while he likes pissing you off.

If you randomly hold his hand or rest your hand on his shoulder he won’t know what to do. He plays with your hand instead of staying still as a way to distract himself from how giddy he’s feeling.

Half the time “playing with your hand” means him trying to jokingly get you to slap your own face with your hand, the other half of the time when he feels like being nice and cute he’s just lightly squeezing it.

Very “opposites attract” troupe.

Even when you were just friends you were very attentive which isn’t something he’s familiar with. For the first time ever there’s someone taking care of him? Asking about his day and doing anything to make him feel better when it’s a bad one? He’d find it hard to believe you’re doing so much for him without wanting anything in return.

When he starts getting more comfortable in the relationship he inches towards being sweeter and more open with you.

E-class finds it hard to believe when they first see it, cause it’s Karma out of all people?? Karma being affectionate??

Don’t get me started on Asano’s reaction to this, he from the bottom of his heart, thinks you’re being held hostage.

Most of Karmas “affection” is just making fun of people so when they see him being weirdly nice to you it’s creepy to them. Constant compliments and praise coming out of his mouth is something they didn’t think they’d live to see.

He can’t be serious for long periods of time and always finds a way to “ruin the moment”. For example you’ll hug him and Karma will hug back… for three seconds before he lifts you off the ground and spins you till too dizzy to walk. (He finds it funny to see you struggling.)

Ms.Vitch is tired of you both because you refuse to work with anyone else she sets you up with (since her class centers around assassination with seduction). Sure, the phrases she makes you all say are awkward no matter who you’re saying it to but you can’t bring yourself to work with your other classmates for that class! If you do work with someone else he’s so shady about it afterwards.

“Karma do you mind getting my bag for me?"

“Maybe ask Maehara since he’s so strong.”

“You know I only said that for the class!!"

Karasuma is also sick of you two getting side tracked, instead of sparring you two sword fight, instead of running a mile you somehow convince Karma to carry you on his back while he does all the running?! (he’s a show off.) Instead of doing pushups you sit on Karmas back as he does them. It gets to the point he makes you work on opposite sides of the field but you somehow end up getting together anyway within minutes. He’s starting to give up.

On the brighter side you’re together in all of Korosensei’s classes because he can’t bring himself to separate you two! He did once and you were so miserable he gave in. Even if Karma does give you the answers in exchange for a kiss (it’s really that easy.) Korosensei thought you might’ve died from heartbreak if he kept you apart longer.

It’s pretty hard to make him shy since he’s constantly being praised to the point his ego is up there. It happens in more quiet, private moments. Like if you’re at his house watching a movie and you’re moving closer together all of a sudden he’s looking at the roof and not the screen. He can’t let you see his face is beet red.

Another example is him seeing you in a pretty outfit and not being able to act right cause he’s flustered.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re just, you’re- you you’re I like.”

“Come again?”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Handled.

You and Chibs have been walking the line for a little too long.

Pairing - Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention.

Word Count - 1.5k ish??

Author's Note - I can only apologise for the wild gif, but I saw it and couldn't not use it. this fic is based on this request!! thank you for this message my love - it sparked so many thoughts. I made chibs a little sweeter than I meant to, oops.

Masterlist. Inbox.

The wind whips through your hair as you speed down the road, sunlight beaming down and warming you both.

You have your helmet tightly strapped on your head, a gift from the man currently in front of you on the bike. He'd grumbled as he'd given it to you, mumbling something about someone has to keep you fuckin' safe and last thing we need is an injury to your pretty face.

It's a complicated relationship you have, to say the least. You're not together. No, Chibs is still technically married to Fiona, and he's not exactly the boyfriend type. You're not sure what you want, reluctant to commit to dating a member of the club and all of the danger that comes along with it.

So, you dance the line. The two of you flirt, laughing and touching. You get close, and then you pull away. You wonder if one day, he'll just crack. He knows that if he starts something, he'll have to finish it. He's not a man who works in halves.

Chibs occasionally takes a hand off the handlebars to squeeze your thigh, a silent communication. He's asking are you okay? And you're reaching forward to squeeze his in reply, answering yeah, I am.

Your arms are wrapped around his middle, safe and secure. You can feel the taut muscles of his back and shoulders through the leather jacket that you're pressed against. You know how big he is - tall and broad and unwavering in the face of danger. He's ruthless, and it turns you on. It probably shouldn't, but it does.

The next time he reaches back to squeeze your thigh, you graze your fingernails along the muscle of his before squeezing back much further up. You feel the tension instantly, his back tightening in front of you. You smirk and hold on again, acting like nothing happened.

He's curious, now. Testing the waters. He squeezes your leg again, firmly, and you squeeze back so high that your fingertips graze his bulge. His breath hitches, and you feel it. You grin.

He pinches your thigh this time, sharply. A warning.

One that you ignore. You dance your fingertips higher, lightly stroking across the tent in his jeans, nails scraping the denim. He hums, low and dangerous, vibrations rumbling through the both of you.

You return your hands to his torso, clinging on tightly as you curve around the bends, scenery flying by. You're back at the clubhouse before you know it, the journey as quick as the blink of an eye.

You act like nothing has happened as you get off the bike. You know the two of you have just crossed a line, moving from friendship to something more. You don't want to address it. So, you hang your helmet onto the handlebars and go to walk away, in desperate need of a drink.

A strong hand grabs your wrist, spinning you back around. You collide with a hard chest, a soft oof leaving you. Chibs looks you up and down slowly, gaze raking across your body and stopping at your mouth. He runs his tongue across his bottom lip before pulling you in closer, hands snaking around your back.

"Where do you think you're goin'?"

You take a deep breath and exhale it in a shudder.

"... Inside?"

"Nuh uh," he tuts, tracing patterns across your skin absentmindedly. "You don't get to pull a stunt like that and just walk away."

You decide to play clueless, hoping it'll get you off easier.

"A stunt like what?"

He pulls you in closer again, so your bodies are pressed against each other. No space between you.

"Oh, sweetheart. This innocent act might work on other people, but it doesn't work on me. I see right through ya."

You find a shred of confidence from somewhere, determined to make him sweat a little. You enjoy getting under his skin.

"And what do you see, Filip? Hmm?"

He smirks, mischievous and knowing.

"I see a strong, independent woman, who wants - no, sorry - needs, someone to put her in her place."

You raise your eyebrows at him, so he keeps going.

"You want to be broken apart and put back together again. You enjoy pushing my buttons, trying to get a rise from me, don't you? You think it's fun. But you've got no fuckin' idea about the things I want to do to you, honey. I'm not sure you want to know."

You're panting, now, your chest heaving with anticipation.

"Tell me," you whisper. "Tell me what you want to do to me. Please."

"Please? You wanna be polite now?"

You practically pout at him, big doe eyes begging him to just give in. But Filip Telford is nothing if not stubborn. He is, in fact, the most adamant person you've ever met.

"Chibs."

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Don't be mean."

"Mean? This ain't mean, baby. You're just used to everyone being sweet to you because you're pretty."

You smile, now. That's a pleasant surprise.

"You think I'm pretty?"

He rolls his eyes at you, chuckling.

"I think you know that by now."

"It's just nice to hear you say it."

He leans forward, pressing his mouth to your ear.

"You know what? Yeah. Let's go inside."

Chibs grabs your hand and leads you with him, pulling you at a quick pace across the yard. When you reach the door, he pulls it open for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Ever the gentleman.

The clubhouse is empty, which makes a change. The minute you’re inside, you feel two hands on your hips, pushing your back into the bar.

“You really wanna know?”

His accent has got thicker, tone low and dangerous.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please. Tell me.”

“You’ll never look at me the same,” he begins, leaning down to speak right into your ear. “When you hear what I want to do to you.. the things I’ve thought about… you won’t be able to look me in the eye, sweetheart.”

You chuckle, tilting your head back to look at his face.

“I think you underestimate me a little, Chibs. Wait until you hear the things I’ve thought about in bed at night, when I can’t sleep.”

He presses a kiss into your neck, nipping at it gently. You groan at the contact, tilting your head to give him better access. One of his hands trails down your side, popping the button on your jeans with ease.

“Gonna take the edge off,” he murmurs, “and then fuck you the way you deserve when I get you home. Alright?”

You nod frantically, gripping onto his biceps to keep you upright. You rest your head against his chest, taking a deep breath to calm down.

“Chibs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Will you kiss me?”

He smiles at you, all genuine and soft for a moment.

“Yeah, babe. I’ll kiss you. Been waiting for you to ask for a long time.”

He adds the last part quietly, as if he’s embarrassed to say it out loud. He leans down and presses his lips to yours, more tender than you were expecting. You hum in contentment, opening up to let him slip his tongue in. He tilts your head back, licking into your mouth all filthy and debauched.

One of his hands slips into the front of your jeans, tracing you over your underwear. You both groan at the action, lips still connected.

“Fuck, sweetheart. This all for me, hmm?”

You nod almost instantly, resting your head back on his chest. Chibs slips his hand under your waistband, gathering your slick before sliding a finger inside with ease.

“Knew you’d feel like this. Wet and warm and tight and fuckin’ perfect.”

You whine, winding your hips down to chase any friction he’ll give you.

“You’re filthy, darlin’. Letting me finger you in the clubhouse, huh? What if someone walks in, hmm? What if someone sees you like this?”

“Don’t care,” you choke out. “More, please.”

He chuckles darkly, slipping another finger in while rubbing at your clit in circles with his thumb. Your knees buckle, shaking as you grab onto him for dear life.

“I’ve got ya,” he’s murmuring into your ear, crooking his fingers. “I’ve always got ya.”

He speeds up his movements, leaning in to press open mouthed kisses down your neck. He nips you with his teeth occasionally, making you whine all high pitched and breathy. You know you’re gonna smell like cigarettes and gasoline for the foreseeable future.

“You’re close, aren’t ya? Can feel it, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

Chibs snakes his unoccupied hand around your back, holding you up as your legs shake. You fall over the edge, gasping into his chest as he mutters sweet nothings.

“There we go, atta girl. Good fuckin’ girl, hmm?”

You’re nodding, collapsing forwards against him. He pulls his hand from your jeans and instantly puts his fingers in his mouth, making your knees even weaker.

“Kiss me,” you whisper once again.

He obliges, softly connecting your lips. It’s gentle and careful and much more loving than you were expecting, but you’re not complaining. Not in the slightest.

“Now, darlin’. I’m gonna stick you back on that bike, take you home, and fuck you like you deserve. Okay?”

“Okay,” you grin at him, laughing when he chuckles.

You’d have to be insane to deny an offer like that.

@just-a-girl-who-wrytes

[fatuismooches]

Idk if this had been done yet but Dadtorre having a son that looks exactly like him that people mistake his son for a segment?

His lover finds it hilarious, they had their suspicions when their son first came to the world, which grew stronger the moment the infant could open his eyes, showing that red they so loved. Surely, the kid wouldn't be the spitting image of his father—

But then he reaches toddler age and he has the same hair. He's literally Zandy 2.0

His lover would be giggling at him, especially when Dottore has a faint hue of pink embarrassment dusting his cheeks. Damn it, who knew his genetics would be this strong?! Now everyone thinks he'd made a second child segment!

He's not getting 'Congratulations!' He's getting: 'Doctor, why have you made a second segment of your youth...?' from his colleagues!

Things get especially awkward when their son reaches around Alpha's age, people start mistaking him for the segment and give him reports unprompted.

A researcher could spout at him about his father's latest project, and the son would go: "Okay, I'll be sure to tell my father that :D" cue in the horrified look of that poor researcher. Does this count as dissemination?!

While their son inherits his father's face, he did not inherit the personality. Which means they now have a boy who looks exactly like Dottore, but has his spouse's personality running around the place. So people mistake him for this particularly bubbly and chatty segment (he definitely got his father's intelligence though so him tinkering with stuff in the lab doesn't help)

Oh, and for a tinge of angst :3

He inherits the illness.

There would be days when he can't get out of bed at all, pain shooting up all through his aching joints, making every twitch agonising.

This fuels Dottore to find the cure even more, for a memory haunts him. That night where he found his spouse comforting their child all those years ago, cradling his little body close to their chest, on their lap as the child sobbed, begging for this terrifying persistent ache to stop. Dottore could only stand by the doorway of his son's room as his spouse gently hushes him, false reassurances falling in abundance from their lips, promising that they will teach him how to deal with the pain for they have it too.

Dottore swears that he will save them.

Before your son was born, you had always teased your husband about the possibility, to which he scoffed at. (Perhaps a part of him wasn't sure what he'd do, knowing they'd bear such a resemblance to him, a monster.) Of course, you end up being right and you have laughed about it multiple times, much to his dismay. (Despite his kid's resemblance to him, his ever-observant eye still manages to pick out your features that had passed along to his son. The more his kid grows, the more he notices them both physically and in his personality, and he notes them all down, not wanting a single one to slip by him.)

Although the comments he gets are a nuisance, he supposes they aren't unwarranted. After all, it's still probably more believable that he made another segment rather than him having a child. A lot of times he brushes these questions off and said colleague doesn't find out until you break the news to them. They go so pale you think they may collapse in that instant (flashbacks to the time they provided him information, and wondered why he seemed much sweeter than he usually did.) It's probably so unnatural for others to see - the poor agents are getting whiplash from dealing with their boss's coldness and then being greeted by the child smiling widely at them. They watch as his son and you tease the Harbinger in front of them with no remorse. It's a bit scary, to be honest.

Your son inheriting your illness is no doubt your worst nightmare. You would think that Celestia punishing you would be enough, but no, they have to hurt your child too. You have to watch as he relives everything you did, watch as he's robbed of his childhood and so many memories and experiences. You resort to sleeping with him in case he's woken up from his pains and cannot sleep, your only remedy being to hold him and usher him back to sleep. Ignoring how your own body shakes as he cries. Promising that he's going to be okay (even though you're still not.) You can only look at Dottore with an exhausted smile before tucking your son in again.

You believe in him, if only for your son.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Nothing sweeter than my baby

Leah Williamson x Reader Warnings: Shitty writing once more, fluff

The thrumming bass of "My Girl" pulsed through the reception hall, a sensual counterpoint to the clinking of glasses and murmur of conversation. But for you, the music faded into the background, a mere echo compared to the symphony playing out in your hand – Leah's. Your fingers were laced with hers, a tangle of warmth and unspoken devotion. You hadn't let go since the last lingering notes of the recessional had faded. Even the well-wishes from your parents and friends, delivered with watery eyes and booming laughter, had been mere interruptions in your silent conversation.

Now, nestled against Leah's front at the head table, you listened intently as the toasts began. Each speech, a brushstroke painting of your love story on a canvas of shared memories. Your best friend, her voice thick with emotion, recounted the moment you'd confessed your feelings for Leah, her booming laughter echoing your own nervous fumbling. Leah's brother, ever the pragmatist, spoke of the unwavering support you offered Leah through thick and thin, a testament to the strength of your bond.

As your parents spoke, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickered through Leah's eyes – a glistening sheen that threatened to spill over. You squeezed her hand ever so slightly, a silent reassurance. Your mother, voice trembling with pride, spoke of the way Leah brought out a light in you she'd never seen before. Your father, ever the stoic, cleared his throat roughly before admitting you'd finally found someone who could match your stubborn streak, a comment that elicited a snort of laughter from Leah that warmed you from the inside out.

What you hadn't expected was a light tap on your side and hand as Leah pushed you slightly to stand up before taking your hand back in hers and holding the microphone in her other one.

A hush fell over the reception hall as all eyes turned to Leah. A soft blush bloomed across her cheeks, but her gaze held steady as she met yours. The corner of her lips quirked up in a secret smile, a silent promise of what was to come.

"Thank you all for sharing your beautiful memories with us," Leah's voice, though slightly husky with emotion, rang out clear and strong. "Tonight isn't just about celebrating our love, but the love that brought us here. The love of our families, our friends, and everyone who has supported us along the way."

She scanned the room, her eyes lingering on each person before returning to you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "But most importantly," she continued, her voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur that sent goosebumps erupting on your skin, "tonight is about celebrating the love I found in you, Y/N."

The room held its breath, captivated by the raw emotion in her voice. You could feel the warmth radiating from her hand intertwined with yours, a silent testament to the depth of your connection.

"From the moment we met," Leah began, her voice weaving a tapestry of shared memories, "there was something special about you. A spark, a connection I couldn't explain. You made me laugh until my sides ached, you challenged me to be better, and you loved me fiercely, even on the days I was unlovable."

A choked sob escaped someone in the audience, quickly followed by a wave of sniffles. Your own throat tightened, overwhelmed by the depth of her love and the vulnerability she was laying bare in front of everyone.

"You're my best friend, my confidante, my rock," Leah continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You're the missing piece I never knew I needed. And tonight," she stated, her gaze unwavering from yours, "I promise to love you with every fiber of my being, through laughter and tears, sunshine and storms. You are my forever, Y/N, and I will love you until my last breath."

Leah paused as the room erupted in thunderous applause, whistles, and cheers. "I remember looking for your engagement ring." Leah began again eyes never leaving yours "And getting asked time and time again, was I sure, was I certain you were the one, my one, and well although I was already so sure creating this video of the two of us I intended to use when I proposed you were just way too excited and wouldn't sit down and seeing all the moments you loved me even when I wasn't looking well, I never have to doubt about it...so Ladies and Gentlemen instead of harping on about how much I know Y/n loves me, and how much I love her I thought I might show you."

A hush descended once more. On a screen behind the head table, a video flickered to life. It was a compilation of candid moments all playing in sync with Hozier's "Work Song" playing softly in the back – you stealing a kiss under a fireworks display, Leah braiding your hair on a lazy Sunday morning, you two cheering wildly at a concert, your faces smudged with laughter after a food fight. Each clip is a fleeting glimpse into the tapestry of your love story.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the montage progressed. You hadn't realised how much you’d documented your journey together. You saw Leah blush as a clip played of you serenading her with a hilariously off-key rendition of her favourite song. Laughter bubbled up, chasing away the emotion. Your gaze darted back to Leah, who beamed back at you, a soft, reassuring smile on her lips.

A simple photo montage began to play you and Leah, faces flushed and hair windblown, standing triumphant at the summit of a challenging hike you'd conquered together, just after Leah had been cleared to play football again, Laughter lines crinkled the corners of your eyes, and Leah's arm was wrapped possessively around your waist. A soft murmur of recognition rippled through the guests.

The slideshow progressed, a montage of stolen moments - a candid shot of Leah sneaking a kiss on your cheek while you were engrossed in a book, a blurry image of you two dancing wildly at a friend's party, your faces lit by pure joy. Each picture was a snapshot in time, a testament to the depth and breadth of your connection.

As the slideshow continued, tears welled up in your eyes again. You hadn't realised just how many ways Leah had shown her love, big and small. A picture of you, looking exhausted after a long shift, with a steaming mug of coffee and a handwritten note from Leah tucked beside it, brought a choked sob out of you.

Flipping through vacation photos, goofy grins plastered on your faces. Home videos captured stolen kisses in the kitchen, quiet moments curled up on the couch with a book, and bursts of laughter as you tried (and hilariously failed) to assemble new furniture. There were snippets of Leah recording you from afar, your brow furrowed in concentration as you worked on a project, followed by a cut to a wide shot of Leah sneaking over and wrapping her arms around you from behind, the tension melting away into a contented sigh.

As the video progressed, each clip was a testament to the depth of your love for Leah and the unspoken ways she saw you. The final scene was a close-up of Leah's hands shaking slightly over piano keys trying to hold back her nerves before your hands came into view slowly taking hers in your grasp and squeezing them softly, as she nervously fumbled with your fingers. Her face was a mixture of excitement and nervousness, Your voice filled the screen, a surprised gasp escaping your lips as you listened to your words of encouragement but mostly at the look of pure love and adoration from Leah. "I can't hold your hand while you do this, and i know it's scary and you have had so many of these types of scary moments lately but this, Darling this is just another small step in a sad chapter in your life and believe it or not right now, but this is the turning point, the happy point your about to do something you couldn't, wouldn't have done until now, we're nearly through this part and when you start playing we'll be even closer to the good stuff, the football stuff, the forever with one another stuff." Leah leaned over and kissed you as the montage of pure, unadulterated love continued on tears streaming down your face as you embraced Leah tightly.

The video ended with the same picture that had started it all – the two of you, foreheads touching, smiles on your faces, a look of pure, unadulterated love in your eyes. The room erupted once more, this time with cheers and whistles mixed with happy tears. Leah leaned down, wiping a stray tear from your cheek with her thumb.

A choked laugh escaped you, burying your face in Leah's shoulder. "You sneak," you mumbled, the weight of her love settling over you like a warm blanket.

"The best kind," Leah replied with a wink, her voice husky with emotion.

The applause seemed to fade away again as you leaned back, eyes locked with Leah's. "That was..." you started, searching for the words.

"Perfect?" Leah finished, a hopeful smile gracing her lips.

"More than perfect," you confirmed, cupping her cheek. "It was a beautiful."

Suddenly, the gravity of the situation hit you. You were married. You and Leah, bound together not just by love, but by a commitment that stretched as far as the horizon. A nervous flutter danced in your stomach, quickly quelled by the warmth radiating from Leah's hand in yours.

"Ready to celebrate, Mrs. Williamson?" Leah asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Absolutely, Mrs. Williamson," you countered, a grin splitting your face.

The night stretched on in a joyous blur. You danced wildly with friends, shared stories with family, and stole countless kisses under the fairy lights strung around the venue. But through it all, your gaze kept returning to Leah. The woman who had become your everything, your confidante, your forever.

As the night wound down, the band launched into a slow song. You looked at Leah, a silent invitation hanging in the air. Her eyes softened, and with a smile, she took your outstretched hand.

As you swayed gently to the music, you whispered, "Thank you, Leah. For everything."

Leah leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Y/N. Death can come looking and threaten to take me away." Her voice, raw and vulnerable, sent shivers down your spine. It wasn't just a romantic vow; it was a testament to the unwavering strength of your bond, forged through shared battles and quiet victories. "No grave will hold my body down I'll crawl home to you if I have to."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. You cupped her face, wiping away a stray tear with your thumb, mirroring her gesture earlier.

[mirohlayo]

🍉 ‘kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.’ and ‘absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times’ with daniel? 🥹 and congrats on 1k love!!

SOFT TOUCHES

( what's sweeter than your boyfriend's affectionate touch ? )

warning : none just pureee fluff

note : a bit short but hope it worth it, also thank youuu so muchh bby ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩 !!!

word count : 682

It was no secret that Daniel loved to touch you. He was completely obsessed with how completely at peace and loved he felt when he had the opportunity to touch you.

His love language was surely physical touch, at least that's what you thought by the way he loved showing you affection every minute.

And that was the case today. As he walked through the door of your apartment, a pretty bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand, his face lit up at the sight of you. He barely had time to take off his shoes when your arms were already wrapping around his waist.

A big smile took place on his lips, while his eyes were filled with hearts. He looked at you in such a gentle and tender way, that you could feel yourself melting under his intense gaze.

“Hello, gorgeous.” His eyes fell on your lips, while he didn't hesitate for a single second before pressing his to yours, in a soft and deep kiss. You pull back to be able to admire it, and Daniel took the opportunity to place thousands of kisses on the tip of your nose.

It was probably your favorite sign of affection. It's subtle, maybe a little childish, but simply adorable.

The way his lips brush the tip of your nose, caressing and tickling it, before finally peck that spot. Placing kisses there so comforting and yet so strong. He loved this gesture of affection, because he only did it when it was just the two of you.

Not in public, no, just you and him.

“We should make dinner, love.” His lips came to brush the tip of your nose one last time, while you headed towards the kitchen. However, he didn't take his eyes off you, a silly smile still hanging on his face as he wondered how did he manage to have such a pretty girlfriend?

And while you were trying to cook, you were of course interrupted by your boyfriend who kept bothering you. Or rather touch you. A hand on your cheek, on your waist, a few stolen kisses. And of course, subtle kisses on your nose. Only for you and your beautiful self.

But after your meals, you especially loved your moments of peace, in front of the TV, lying on the large sofa. Your head rested on his legs, while he absentmindedly played with your soft hair. He ran his fingers through your locks, wrapping them around his fingers.

It was a touch that made you inexplicably happy. The way his fingers stroked your hair, so delicately, the way he was careful not to rush you. Not to tangle your fingers to avoid knots in your hair.

You felt weak. Weak, under his touch, because he knew how to make you feel comfortable and soothed.

As your eyes slowly closed, sleep succumbing to you little by little, Daniel admired you. Your lips slightly curled, your eyelids closed, your shallow breaths as your face was simply angelic. Why did you have to be so beautiful even when you were sleeping?

The sound of the TV in the background was a mere distraction, as Daniel found himself completely infatuated by your beauty. And while his fingers continued to play with your hair, he placed one last soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

The city fell asleep at your pace, while the lights outside reflected the tranquility of the night. It was in these moments that Daniel found comfort.

That he felt his heart beating a thousandth times harder, that he could feel it coming out of his chest because it was beating so hard for you. It was in these comforting moments that he felt at home, at peace, and never more than in love.

And perhaps it was also in the softness of his lips against the skin of your nose, or in the way he stroked your soft hair, that he finally found the answers. The answers to his doubts and his fears.

There will never be anyone else he loves more than you.

[soulofapatrick]

Expect The Unexpected - Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: Kol saves you from a creep and it leads somewhere you never expected

Words: 3k

Warning; creepy stalker; think that's it

Notes: Had to write some Kol but I will be writing more Joel and Tommy Miller tomorrow x

Y/N’s POV 

I step out of the restaurant, having said my goodbyes to Caroline and Elena, wanting to just get home and collapse into bed as my social batteries are on zero. It’s late and the streets are deserted except for a few people walking their dogs or heading home from the bars as it is Friday night. It’s a beautiful night with a full moon illuminating the sky and I can’t help but enjoy the quietness of it all as I begin the walk home. 

Footsteps can be heard behind me but when I turn there’s no one there. I think being around vampires a lot I’m starting to go insane as they’re always sneaking up on me, making me paranoid all the time as Damon loves to scare the shit out of me. The footsteps are getting louder and an uneasy feeling settles in my chest. This isn’t any of the vampires I know. No, when I glance over my shoulder my heart skips a beat in fear as there’s a man in a hoodie walking a few feet behind me. He’s staring at me with a creepy smile, eyes intense on mine like he’s undressing me with his gaze and I start to feel a little sick. I could yell for any of my supernatural friends knowing they’re hear me and be here in seconds but that feels like I’m weak, being human and all that. 

I shake my head and continue walking, heart pounding in my chest, as of course this shit happens to me. Not wanting to admit defeat and call I remember the short alleyway nearby that would take me to Stefan and Damon’s, much closer than mine so I hurry my pace. The footsteps behind me seem to get even louder, like he’s right behind me and my uneasiness turns to fear as I turn left down the alleyway, hoping to lose him in the maze of building. My luck isn’t that good as I glance behind me again see him still following, leering and I can hear his breath, ragged and heavy, like he’s running. Fuck’s sake! I break into a sprint, my feet pounding the pavement, my breath coming in short gasps and as much as I’m used to running for my life I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this pace up with him not too far behind me. 

That’s when I collide with something solid and familiar, strong hands flying to my shoulders to steady me. The scent of something earthy mixed with spice and leather and something sweeter like cinnamon has me relaxing and the panicked tears begin slipping down my cheeks, knowing I’m safe. 

“Hey lovely, what’s wrong?” That familiar British accent asks and I’m finally looking up to see Kol, his concerned face mere inches from me. The proximity has my breath hitching despite how scared and panicked I feel, words catching in my throat as I gesture behind me to where the creep is still visible and still making his way closer. Kol’s face hardens as he realises what’s happening and he steps in front of me, “He’s not going to touch you love. Look away please.” 

I’m doing as he says, closing my eyes and feeling a familiar gust of wind as Kol uses his vampire speed. There’s the sound of a neck snapping, unmistakable in its finality, and then Kol’s hands are on my face, his voice soft, “You’re safe now.” I open my eyes, my back to the body and Kol’s gaze is gentle and protective, his thumbs caressing my cheeks as his cognac eyes scan me over as if checking for any injuries and finding none. I try to thank him but my voice is still too shaky so I do the next best thing, surging forwards and wrapping my arms around the original vampire, catching him off guard. 

Kol’s arms eventually wrap around me in return, strong and secure and I feel so safe in his embrace. His chest is firm against mine and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel a heartbeat under my ear. I’m burying my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent of earthy spice and leather and I can feel a sense of calm wash over me. His embrace is warm and protective, like he’s shielding me against the word and I know something about the way I feel for him has changed. He’s no longer the wild Mikaelson who keeps trying to kill Matt and has caused Elena and Jeremy so many problems. No, he’s something more to me as I cling onto him, not wanting to let go as he hand strokes my hair soothingly and he’s whispering, “Come on sweetheart, let’s get you home.” 

Reluctantly I’m letting him go, suddenly feeling empty and the cold hits me despite my thick jeans and fluffy sweater. A small gasp leaving me when Kol places his leather jacket over my shoulders and he’s flashing me a somewhat shy smile before he holds his arm out for me like a true gentleman. I take his arm, feeling a flutter in my chest as we start the walk back to mine, his jacket warm and comforting around me. The night air is chilly but Kol’s presence makes it bearable, his steps confident and sure as we navigate through the dark streets. I’m stealing glances at him from time to time, admiring the way his features are chiselled and sharp in the moonlight, his eyes are like pools of molten gold. 

We’re arriving at my door too soon and I feel a sense of disappointment, not wanting him to leave me but I’m too awkward and shy to say it outright so I just let his arm go so I can fumble for my keys, Kol’s eyes on me the whole time and watching my every move as I swing my door open. I’m turning back to face him, the words slipping from my lips in a scared whisper, barely audible, “Don’t leave me.” 

His vampire hearing don’t miss a syllable as he’s taking a step closer, hand coming up to cup my face as he speaks softly, “I won’t leave you, love.” There’s something in the way he says it and the way those eyes flit across my face, lingering on my lips for a second or two longer than normal that has my heart fluttering and the soft smirk on his face lets me know he hears it. It’s a little unnerving seeing this soft and gentle side of Kol as he’s usually ruthless and manipulative but there’s nothing but genuine concern in his gaze as he speaks again, “Why don’t I stay the night?” 

“Please.” It comes out breathy and I swear his eyes darken a little, sending my heart fluttering crazily in my chest, his hand not having left my face yet. Neither of us seem to want to move apart enough to go inside despite the chill that’s seeping its way past Kol’s jacket. 

That playful smirk slips onto his face as he leans in, warm breath ghosting over my cheek as he whispers, “Don’t worry love. I’ll keep you warm.” And with that he’s taking my hand and going to step inside when he seems to hit a barrier. Oh! Vampires can’t enter without being invited in but I’m giggling too much to be able to welcome him in, the way he stands with his hands on his hips and eyebrows raised with an amused look on his face as he waits. It takes a moment or two to compose myself enough to invite him, gesturing for him to enter as I say, “Come on in Kol.” 

He strides in with easy confidence, eyes flickering around the room as he takes in his surroundings. I follow him, feeling a strange mix of excitement and apprehension as this is the first time a vampire has been inside my house and I don’t really know what to expect as I’ve always gone to their places. But this Is Kol, it feels different somehow. He’s not like any other vampire I know. I’ve heard stories of how ruthless and selfish Kol can be but it’s a little hard to picture it while he’s moving around my living room, taking it all in with an innocent curiosity. I can’t help the twinge of nervousness as I hang up his jacket and toe my shoes off by the front door after closing it behind us. 

“Are you tired sweetheart?” Kol’s asking, eyes softer in the light of small lamp by the sofa. I’m shaking my head, trying to shake off the nerves as I move to sit on my sofa, patting the spot next to me which he takes without a question, turning his body towards me, “You’re nervous?” 

“I’ve heard so much about you and…” I take a deep breath, Kol not saying a word to let me finish talking but I can see the way his face falls a little, expecting me to say something bad, so I reach over and cup his face in my hand. His stubble grazing my palm as I speak, “But I’m not sure I believe it all.” 

He’s shifting closer, face suddenly very close to mine as he asks, “You don’t?” His face is so open and innocent the air leaves my lungs and I’m shaking my head, caressing his cheek softly as I marvel at how soft his skin is below my hand, “Do you trust me?”

“Y-yes.” My voice is breathy whisper and his hands are gripping the back of my thighs, pulling me onto his lap in smooth movement. My heart races as I straddle him, but I’m not sure it actually has stopped racing since he found me, his eyes never leaving mine as he pulls me closer, lips hovering just inches from mine. He lets out a barely there ‘good’, breath warm against my skin before he’s closing the distance between us, lips meeting mine in a soft and tender kiss that has shivers running down my spine. It’s like electricity between us, the way our bodies press together, his arms holding me close as we explore each other’s lips. I’m lost in the moment, all my fears and worries melting away as Kol’s lips move expertly against mine, hands roaming over my back under my sweater. 

I take a risk and run my tongue against his bottom lip, feeling him smile into the kiss but he’s parting his lips for me. My fingers find their way into his hair, pulling him closer and hearing him moaning softly as our tongues fight for dominance. His hands are slipping lower, cupping my backside and pulling my hips flush against his so I can feel how hard he is beneath me and the a thrill of excitement rushes through me but I’m having to break the kiss. 

Kol’s shifting our weight, laying me back on the couch and leaning over me. He’s kissing me breathless again, lips soft yet demanding and the gentle drag of his fingertips down my sides under my sweater has arousal pooling between my legs. I don’t want this to end but he’s pulling away too soon, eyes intense as he takes me in, leaning on his elbows and hand brushing over my cheek lovingly. 

“As much as I want to do this, I want to do right by you love.” He says, voice low and husky, “I don’t wan to take advantage of you lovely, we should head to bed and we can talk everything through in the morning.” His words both reassuring and disappointing but I know he’s right. I’m nodding, leaning into his touch and kissing his palm before letting him climb off of me and help me to my feet so I can lead the way to the bedroom. He’s tugging on my arm lightly, “I can sleep on the couch-“ I’m gripping the front of his shirt and yanking him into another kiss, silencing his stupidity and feeling him smile into it as he reciprocates before we’re parting. His arms still wrapped around me, “Okay then lead the way love.” Kol nods, tone lace with a hint of mischief as she squeezes my arse. 

I can’t help but laugh as I lead him to the bedroom, feeling a warmth spread through me at the thought of having Kol in my bed. I’m quick to kick my jeans off and slip into a loose teeshirt with my back to Kol while I slip out of my bra before I’m practically diving into the bed. The original vampire knows exactly what he’s doing when he takes his time with every layer of clothing. 

As he unbuttons his shirt, I’m mesmerised by the muscles in his chest and arms, wondering what every dip and ridge would feel like under my tongue. The fabric of his shirt slides off his shoulders to reveal the smooth skin of his back and my fingers are itching to tee the contours of his muscles and I notice the freckles dotted over his back. Then he’s hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and slides them down his hips, showing a tantalising silver of skin. My eyes drink in the sight of his toned legs and the way his boxers cling to his hips. When he turns to face me I can’t help but let out a soft gasp at the sight of his chiselled abs and defied chest. 

Kol catches my gaze and smirks, clearly aware of the effects he’s having on me and I can feel my face flush as he crawls into the bed with me. His lips finding my neck and he’s biting a hickey just below my jaw, drawing a soft sound from me before he’s kissing the slight sting better then pulling us down. I let him manhandle me so we’re cuddling closely. His warm skin against mine as he wraps an arm around my waist and nuzzles into my hair. The feel of his body against mine is intoxicating and I can feel my heart rate picking up as I snuggle closer to him, content with laying here with him and feeling his fingers trace lazy patterns over my skin until I’m drifting off. 

*

I’m awoken by the bedroom door flying open and Caroline’s familiar voice breaks through the haze of sleep as I groggily open my eyes to see her standing in the bedroom doorway, eyes bugging out of her head as she exclaims, “Kol?! Why the hell is Kol in your bed?” Her voice laced with disbelief and annoyance. I know it’s not annoyance towards me personally, she’s just having a bad time with her feelings for Klaus now so I guess seeing me with Klaus’ younger brother isn’t helping her case. 

Before I can even respond Kol is groaning softly, moving so he’s wrapping his arms around my waist and nose nuzzling against the skin of the back of my neck as a pillow is aimed in Caroline’s direction, “Piss off Caroline.” 

She looks angry, that familiar and well known Caroline glare slipping onto her face and I can hear her heels clicking on the floor before the duvet is yanked off of us as she snap, “No. Up, now.” I’m groaning as the cool air hits my skin and I can feel Kol shifting behind me, grumbling something incoherent under his breath. Caroline is still standing there, arms crossed over her chest as he taps her foot impatiently and I can feel the tension I the room as Kol reluctantly detangles himself from me and drags himself into a sitting position. 

“Can you give us a damn minute. Close the bedroom door and Y/N will be out in a moment.” Kol steels her with a glare which Caroline rivals before her eyes flit to me when I place a gentle hand on her arm. She’s hesitating until I send her a reassuring smile, silently thanking her for looking out for me but also silently begging her to leave us alone. She lets out a small huff, glancing between me and Kol before turning on her heels and leaving the room but not without letting the bedroom door slam behind her as she goes to wait in the living room. 

Kol is flopping back down, hands finding their way to my hips to pull me onto his lap so I’m straddling before those oh so gentle hands trail up my sides until he’s cupping my cheeks, thumb rubbing across my bottom lip softly as he asks, “You don’t regret this?” 

“Oh hell no.” I chuckle softly before leaning down and kissing him, gasping when he rolls us over so I’m under his strong body, one of his hands splayed on my thigh as he guides me to wrap that leg wrap around his waist as he deeps the kiss. It’s not fuelled by lust or passion, just sweet and loving, each movement of our lips and the way our tongues dance together a declaration of our feels for each other. Kol’s hands trail up my sides, caressing every inch of skin as he pours all his emotions into the kiss until we have to pull back. I think any oxygen left in my lungs leaves me when I meet his gaze, so much love in his eyes. I know the future is uncertain and that there are definitely going to be obstacles in our way but I don’t care for any of that. As long as Kol keeps looking at me the way he is, I would walk through fire for him. 

“Barbie awaits, love. I should let you go talk to her before she stakes me.” 

“Yes! Yes I will!” 

-------------

Vampire Diaries Universe Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

[mayhemories]

Neteyam x reader dealing with the change between the forest and the reef. Fluff plssssssss but also kinda smutty.

I don't know how to describe it but can the reader want to mate with Neteyam bc they haven't yet and the reader doesn't know how to bring it up. and she is like worried about being a virgin

idk i cant stop thinking about Neteyam x reader sex on the beach

(doesn't have to be like actual smut if you are uncomfy)

What A Blessing

Oh, thank you so much for the request! I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did it some kind of justice. I didn't commit to the smut in this part, but I was kinda envisioning a smutty pt 2. to this fic, so let me know if you'd want that <3

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Spicy Fluff? Straight Fluff. Neteyam has 1 (one) dirty thought, god forbid, let him live. Reader has a chat about sex and mating. 

Words: 2.6k

Author’s Notes: 

Minors DNI (no smut explicitly but still not for you guys, okay?) 

Listened to How Can I Make It OK? - Wolf Alice, nonstop writing this. So if you want the vibe, there it is.

Neteyam is 19, reader is 18/19, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tsireya are 17. Lil Tuk girl queen is the same age as the movie because I will protect her childhood. 

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Read below the cut:

Having Neteyam as your promised mate was a blessing. Having the security of someone so beautiful, strong and kind was priceless. A blessing. Having the Sully family as your fortress: Jake as your father-in-law and the Olo'eyktan, Neytiri as the mother you only ever dreamed of, Mo’at and all her teachings, the wisdom of the T’sahik that she instilled in you, for the future. Lo’ak as the annoying thorn in your side, but a thorn that opened your eyes to new sides of Pandora, nonetheless. Kiri as your sister in spirit, someone who felt Eywa like you did, someone who did not forget the power of her strength during hardships. And little Tuk, someone who made you laugh, and play and sparked the power of your imagination like it had been when you were little. 

And of course, your beloved Neteyam. With his broad chest, and broader smile. Honey eyes that could spring from docile to alert and tracking in seconds. With his sweet laugh and sweeter, protective nature of his siblings and his clan members. Being Neteyam Sully’s love was a blessing, was a strong fortress. Being in love with him was simple and easy. As was loving his family. Everything was perfect. 

Until it just wasn’t anymore. 

“No, Neteyam” you sighed. Sitting on the side of your shared bed, Neteyam kneeling in front of you, your hands weaved together. “I don’t understand.” your voice was soft, the tears streaking down your face were softer still. 

“My love, my father has decided,” Neteyam spoke softly, as if not to frighten you. “I must leave, my family must leave for the safety of the clan, for their longevity.” You loosed a sad chuckle, shaking your head sending rouge braids that Tuk has made flying around the perimeter of your face. 

“No, Neteyam, I don’t understand why you are talking like I am not coming with you.” You felt something fierce awaken in your small, beating heart. You were rarely like this, but when you were, Neteyam knew there was no point. 

“My love you know you can go anywhere, do anything you choose, I will never be able to stop you.” A sweet smile graced his lips, sighing he continued, “you know my only wish in this life is to keep you safe.” 

Gently, you wiped your face clean of salty tears, bending down to meet him on the floor of your sleeping quarters. You held Neteyam’s eyes with your own. And he knew in that moment, that he could never be parted from you. In this life and the next, he would always be with you. 

“I will always be safe when I am with you, Neteyam.” 

Finally landing the Ikran on the sand was instant relief to you. Your thighs were chaffed and your skin felt so dry like you had been whipped, skin peeling, ripped from the constant barrage of the coastal wind. Dismounting, your legs felt wobbly, like a baby taking its first steps. Neteyam kept his hands on your waist, stabilising you. You were no hunter, no rider really. That was all Neteyam. But, a keen herbalist, forager, spiritualist. You were his balance, or rather, you were supposed to be his T’sahik. 

The sun was so warm on your skin as you waited for the leaders of the Metkayina to accept your plea for refuge. You did not know if it was the delirium from the long flight, or whether the anxiety of being turned away caught up with you, but you felt like you were floating in and out of existence. One moment you were standing, the next walking with all your belongings to your new home, the next you were sitting in the intricately woven marui pod, unpacking everything and anything that meant something to you. 

Neteyam’s hands, calloused from the Ikran’s reigns and the grooves of his bow, found your slumping shoulders. Small circles being rubbed into your mistreated skin. 

“My love, are you happy?” Neteyam whispered over the sensitive curl of your ear. 

“Can I be honest with you, Neteyam?” You asked, turning to face him. He scanned your face for any signs of anxiety, happiness, indifference. Tightening his brows, as well as the grip on your shoulders. 

“Of course, always.” 

You smiled at that, he was still the same, despite it all. 

“I am worried I will not thrive here, that I will be dead weight.” You wrung your hands and wrists, head cast down, to escape his gaze, but also in shame, admitting your fear to him. To Neteyam. Your perfect Neteyam who could do no wrong. 

“I’m too worried, that I will be dead weight.” Neteyam sighed. Your head sprung up, confused. Your hands found either side of his face.

“Are you stupid or something?” Neteyam smirked slightly, his hands snaking up to rest on yours. “Neteyam, everything you touch turns to gold, you can’t really fail at anything.” He laughed at you, a proper stomach laugh.

“Care to share that tidbit with my father when you get a chance-” Rolling your eyes, you cut him off. 

“Neteyam, I’m serious.” You felt yourself starting to pout. 

“Take some of your own advice, huh.” Neteyam captured your eyes again. With a small peck on your pursed lips, he whispered: “You have medical training, you have intelligence and a strong heart.” One of his hands rested on your chest, roughly where you knew your heart would be. “You are connected to Eywa, you are connected to me. Forever.” You couldn’t help but smile. Oh Jesus, Neteyam he always knew exactly what to say. “My love Eywa will never turn her back on you, and I will always protect you from anything that might come.” 

Loving him was so easy, especially when he said things like that. 

He held your hands as you both stood up. 

“Now, let’s get some fresh water into you.” You chuckled, you knew you were dehydrated beyond belief. “And maybe some salve for that chafe too, huh.” He chuckled at you, pinching your side as you giggled, leaning into his safe arms. 

A blessing. 

The days quickly burned into weeks, the weeks into months. Your training with Tsireya and Ao’nung went well, to your surprise. You found breathing easy, as you could imagine the lungs filling and deflating. Though, Kiri teased you that Eywa decided you must be good at everything. Yet, all you saw was how naturally it came to Kiri and Tuk, themselves. You’d never admit it to Neteyam, but you preferred riding the Ilu. 

It came a bit harder for Neteyam and Lo’ak, but they were dedicated. Neteyam wanted to uphold the promise he made to Jake, that he would pull his weight, stay out of trouble, and bring no shame to the family. Lo’ak was driven by holding Tsireya’s attention. Which, you decided, wasn’t the worst idea Lo’ak had ever had. 

You liked Tsireya, Ao’nung… not so much, though after his big fight with Lo’ak and Neteyam, he had been more tolerable to be around. 

Tsireya and you sat side by side on the sand. You talked about anything and everything. She would often help you with your hair, and you would often help her with Lo’ak. You both had been trained as Tsakarem and loved the Sully boys. As different as they were, you knew better than anyone else, all Sully boys were the same breed.

Her fingers were in your hair, trying to get Tuk’s random braids and beads out before she properly weaved your hair into some kind of intricate braid pattern. 

“How did you know Neteyam was the one?” Tsireya asked, though you knew she sat right with you, you knew her mind was thousands of miles away, with a certain Sully. You giggled, knowing that you were like this once. Maybe, you still were like this, though your love for Neteyam was not so young and fresh and scary, all at once, like Tsireya and Lo’ak. 

Neteyam was running down the beach with Tuk, he felt sorry that he had not spent as much time with her as he used to. They collected every shell that she deemed pretty enough, placing them into a makeshift bucket Neteyam had fashioned out of a palm husk. 

“Look!” Shouted Tuk, Neteyam expected another pretty shell, but he looked up to where his little sister was pointing. “It’s (y/n) and Tsireya.” Neteyam smiled at her happiness, but also at how happy and content you looked. 

Giggling with your newfound friend, talking animatedly, using your hands, as you so often did when you were passionate about something. You looked so carefree in the late afternoon light, the pale pink hue stretching out across the sand. Neteyam realised, you finally looked your age. So young and full of life. 

The inappropriate edges of his mind could not help but think about mating you on the sand, then and there. All the mewling sounds that he knew he could coax from you, if only he was given the chance. 

He quickly shook his head, as if to throw the image out of his brain and onto the sand. He refocused on Tuk again. 

“Hey, don’t bother them yeah?” Neteyam said softly, holding a shell out for Tuk to take. “They look like they’re having fun.” Tuk twisted her nose up, but eventually agreed, digging her little fingers back in the sand, sifting to find the prettiest shell, just for you. 

“So,” Tsireya started again, still doing your hair. You watched Neteyam and Tuk, further down the beach. Your heart was warm, blooming in adoration for him all over again. “You love Neteyam that much, but you two are yet to mate” all the blood pooled into your cheeks, across your nose and the tips of your ears. Talking about your virginity with Tsireya was new, but not unwanted, you supposed. “How come?” She finished your hair, sitting across from you, cross-legged like children in lessons. 

“We haven’t spoken about it really.” You started, playing with your new braids shyly. “Neteyam was very sought after back home, I am not entirely sure what he did and did not do with others.”

Tsireya covered her mouth while she giggled softly, you mirrored her actions, still shy to be broaching the topic at all. 

“And you?” She asked. You quirked your eyebrows in confusion, not really sure what she was asking. “Have you ever done anything? With Neteyam or otherwise?” 

You knew you must be almost purple in the face, the blood pooling behind your deep blue skin. 

“We kiss of course, but that is all.” You kept your eyes on Neteyam further down the beach, worried the ocean breeze would carry your conversation. “so far.” you added, hastily, in case the wind did betray you. 

Tsireya looked behind her, at Neteyam and Tuk, and then back at you and your eyes, full of longing for the elder Sully boy. 

“Neteyam! Tuk!” Tsireya called out, you hissed. 

“Ah! What are you doing?” You still felt nervous after admitting these things aloud to Tsireya. 

“Come join us!” Tsireya ignored you, but beckoned the two Sully’s over. Tuk came bounding, a bright smile on her little face, braids bouncing as she ran. 

“We collected shells for you! And for mommy too.” She said proudly. Showing off her palm husk full of shells, some stunning, truthfully. Others were broken or chipped. But to Tuk, they were beautiful all the same. 

Neteyam sat next to you quietly, thighs brushing. You felt like you were going to pass out, still embarrassed from the conversation with Tsireya, which Neteyam knew nothing about. But his presence, though usually a blessing, was too much. 

“Oh wow!” Tsireya exclaimed, causing Tuk to smile wider. “Shall we take them to show your mommy? I feel like she would want to see them!” Tsireya asked Tuk in a sing-song voice. They stood up so quickly, Tsireya holding hands with Tuk, Tuk leading the charge back to the village. 

You were lost for words. Tsireya had set you up, alone, with Neteyam, just before eclipse. She confirmed this with a sly wink thrown over her shoulder. You couldn’t help but stare at their retreating figures.

It was stupid really. Neteyam was your promised mate, your love, your everything. And a few words exchanged in confidence with your best friend regarding your lack of sex life has caused you to be in shambles. 

Neteyam could see the remnants of blush resting upon your high cheekbones. And, he’s not stupid, he saw Tsireya’s pointed wink. Putting a braid behind your tinted ear, he started:

“So, what did you two talk about? You seemed like you were having fun.” Neteyam smiled, elbowing you in the side. 

Loving him was so easy, why couldn’t mating be easy too? Why couldn’t having sex with him be the easiest thing to do? 

“Neteyam,” You released a breath you weren’t even aware that you were holding. “Have we not mated yet because of my lack of knowledge in pleasure?” It was a stupid question, you knew that. But you couldn’t get the seed of the thought out of your mind, now that it had been sown. 

Neteyam felt all the blood in his body rush to his face, it was his turn to blush he supposed. 

“How could you even think that?” He chuckled, holding your face in his hands. The heat of your face radiating outwards. “Do you think I have so much experience? Of course not.” 

You felt foolish now, so you leaned into it for once. 

“So you do want to mate with me then?” You asked, your voice only slightly louder than a whisper. 

Neteyam laughed. 

Not a sweet chuckle, or a nervous giggle, a full-blown laugh. 

You instantly retreated into yourself, not expecting him to laugh at you, despite the foolishness. 

“Oh Eywa, help me,” Neteyam started, seeing your embarrassed figure pulling your knees to your chest. “My love,” Neteyam grabbed your chin in his strong fingers, forcing you to look him in his amber eyes, now lust-blown and heavy-lidded. “I think about mating with you every day. It’s the first thing I think of in the morning, the last thing I think about at night, I dream of it, of you my darling.” His genuine confession set your heart racing, your blush fighting tooth and nail to be at the forefront of your face. “My (y/n) I couldn’t even witness you sitting on the beach with a friend without thinking about it.”

He always knew what to say. Loving him was easy. What a blessing. 

That mantra ran circles around your mind as you listened to him. 

“If I’m being honest, we have not yet mated because I am scared,” Neteyam spoke softly again as if his admission was going to float away in the breeze. “I am scared that one day you will wake up and want to leave me.” His voice broke slightly. 

You audibly gasped, this boy. 

“Neteyam, you know I would never leave you,” your fingers found their home in his hair, despite his grip on your chin. “I love you, I see you.” 

Neteyam smiled. The eclipse rapidly approached behind him, and in the moonlight, his skin glowed, he radiated such pureness, you never wanted to let it go. 

Never wanted to let him go. 

“I see you too, my love. Always” He kissed all over your face, making sure to get every freckle, every smile line, every inch. “We can mate whenever you want my love, whenever you want.” 

“Eywa has blessed me with you, Neteyam.” You giggled. 

You couldn’t wait much longer, you needed to mate with him. Entwine your bodies and souls for life.

As he kissed your lips with his soft, plump pair, all you could think of was, 

Loving Neteyam was easy, so easy, like breathing. It was natural, it was right, it was forever. It was a blessing, it was a fortress. 

You will never know what you did to be so blessed with the gift of Neteyam. 

Additionally, you also couldn’t wait to tell Tsireya.

[earlysunshines]

(i love you) for sentimental reasons

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (pt. 4)

summary: fate seems to love you and sana being alone together, so do your niece and jihyo.

wc: 8k

warnings: mentions of food ; slight (barely) suggestive(?) ; cursing

pt 1. pt2. pt3.

a/n: thank you all for the kind words and support on this series! it was fun writing it and the support on this has been amazing. thank you and enjoy :-]

-

“What would a young teacher usually order at a cafe.” You ask Chaemin, staring at the espresso machine and pondering. The taller, dark-haired barista looks at you, quirks a brow, then yawns. 

“Do I look like I’d know what your five-year-old niece's teacher would like?” Chaemin mutters sleepily, “I’m tired, it’s early, and me personally I need something strong as hell to get me through this damn shift. Maybe she needs something strong since she has to deal with so many kids running around?”

“What if she doesn’t like strong, what if she’s more fond of something sweet? What if she prefers tea?”

“Well maybe you should’ve asked her or something, how do you not know what your dream woman likes.”

“I’m not gonna ask my niece to ask her what her favorite coffee is, that’s weird.”

“You already make Hana tell you about her teacher, I don’t think that would make anything different, y/n.” Chaemin sighs, “Look, I have to prepare for that fucker that orders six drinks and complains to me that they’re not made in two minutes every Wednesday morning. You have fun figuring out what to order for this wonder of a woman, but make it quick. I need to prepare at least 7 shots of espresso before that damn regular walks in.” He says, walking past you and over to the coffee bean grinder. 

It’s 7:53 in the morning and the form said to meet in the lobby of the school by 8:30. You’re trying to get your daily caffeine in and decided to ask for an extra beverage to give to your nieces' teacher. Is getting a drink for a woman a form of flirting?

“I’ll just get my usual, and then I guess I’ll get something sweeter and I’ll ask her.”

“Okay, so what’s the sweeter thing gonna be?” Chaemin questions, weighing out the coffee grinds for your usual iced americano. You think to yourself for a bit as he tamps the grinds down and puts a filter on,

“Vanilla latte? Hot, since it’s cold out, maybe she would appreciate that.”

“Can’t go wrong with that I guess.” He sighs while pulling a shot of espresso over a cup of iced water.

-

You get to the school at 8:23 am, and by the time you’re all parked and in the lobby it’s 8:27.

The lobby is filled with at least sixty kids, probably more. There are four other kindergarten teachers, you assume they’re teachers from the lanyards they wear. At least ten parents are also present, scattered around the lobby with the teachers of their own students. It’s loud and crowded, you wonder if Hana had gotten lost until you look over to the corner to see Hana waving at you, and return the smile at her before making your way to the girl and her class. 

Sana watches you with the two coffees in your hand and a smile spread across your face as you walk over to hug your niece, making sure not to spill the beverages. You’re wearing a patched, dark-blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt with a graphic that Sana can’t fully make out, and the t-shirt exposes some of your collarbone, Sana notes. The bottoms you wear are simple, yet effortlessly stylish. You have on washed, dark gray wide-legged jeans that compliment your top, along with black laced loafers to complete the look. Sana thinks you look amazing - Your casual, yet striking style is added to her mental list of what makes you so effortlessly stunning. 

After hugging your niece, you make your way over to Sana, the grin that is plastered on your face seems contagious as it makes her grin back. You stand in front of her and greet her with a simple “Hi.” and somehow, her cheeks are already starting to warm up.

“It’s nice to see you, as always,” Sana greets, and you chuckle lightly,

“Yeah, likewise.” You start. The latte that was once about to burn your hands is now at a reasonable temperature, at least one that won’t burn anyone’s tongue (you hope). You look from the latte and back to Sana, “Do you prefer sweet or strong? I stopped by my work and I wanted to get something for you, I didn’t know which you preferred so…” You trail off, looking back at her with uncertainty.

Sana doesn’t know how you’re so perfect.

“Y/n,” She mumbles, looking at the drinks in your hands, “You didn’t have to.”

“I thought you might need some caffeine before working with so many kids you know.” You joke. Sana pauses, you think of her? 

She wonders how often the thought of her crosses your mind (which is a lot), and it gives her a little hope in her heart. 

“You’re so sweet, Y/n. What are the options?”

“I got a vanilla latte and iced americano. I mean you got an Americano when we ran into each other at the store, but I had to make sure there were options.” You explain, though you realize there are definitely not a lot of options. You'd bring her the whole cafe if you could, just to make sure she could have a beverage that she'd like.

“I’ll take the latte, I like sweet things.” sweet things like you, she thinks to herself. You hand her the warm vanilla latte with a grin before another voice joins in,

“Good morning Sana!” A shorter woman chirps. The woman with the bob has her own hot beverage in her hands, and she’s dressed warmly to fit the weather as it transitions from late fall to early winter.

“Jihyo!” Sana cheers, hugging the woman. You smile at the woman (although your jaw tenses a little. You want to be able to hug Sana like that), and she smiles back after pulling away from the teacher. You examine her outfit; she’s wearing a black coat over a dark form-fitting shirt, and casual blue jeans paired with white tennis shoes to finish the look. She also has a beige bag that is hung on her shoulder and a silver ring on her left ring finger. 

Sana looks at the two of you, and she holds back a small giggle looking at your height difference. Jihyo’s head is angled upwards to meet your gaze and even though the woman is shorter – you can’t help but be a little intimidated by such a strong aura: it screams authority. 

“Ah, Jihyo, this is Y/n,” Sana says a bit shyly, and the slightly shorter woman with the bob looks back at Sana with slightly raised brows,

“Oh? Is that so?” Jihyo says amusingly, looking back at your taller self. You seem a little smaller under her gaze, and it’s scaring you a little. Jihyo temporarily washes your worries away by sticking her hand out and grinning at you, “I’m Jihyo. Sana has told me a lot about you, it’s nice to meet you in person.”

“She has?” You question, a brow arching. Sana clears her throat and it stops Jihyo from exposing her, though you wanted to know more.

“Y/n, this is Jiyeong’s mom. We used to be roommates,” Sana quickly says. Jihyo just laughs and nods before Sana adds, “Y/n is Hana’s aunt.”

“Oh, you didn’t tell me that,” Jihyo responds with surprise. Jihyo knew your name and that Sana had a really big interest in you, but she didn’t know that you were her daughter's best friend’s aunt. Sana shuts her down before she can say anything more to make her cheeks redden.

You’re confused, to say the least. Sana talks about you? What does she tell Jihyo? Is she into you? You’re thinking a lot of things and you want answers to all the questions you have running through your mind, but for now, you'll have to wait. Sana walks off, face flushed, leaving you and Jihyo to chat with one another. 

You look over from Jihyo to her daughter, who is talking to your niece and laughing as they converse.

“My daughter talks about your niece quite often,” Jihyo says, and she’s looking in the same direction as you while she sparks a conversation, “Hana seems like a sweet one, she makes my daughter very happy. It’s nice to meet the one who takes care of her, you must be as kind as Sana says.”

“Thank you,” You respond, turning to see her still looking at the two girls, “Can I ask… What else does Sana say about me?”

“You’ll have to find out yourself.” Jihyo simply states.

Aw, man.

-

“This is your chance to talk to Ms. Minatozaki alone! I can’t keep being the one to talk to her and then talk to you! I want to talk to Jiyeong too y’know.”

“Oh.” 

“Papa was right, you need to be not shy for once,” Hana sighs, “I thought you said you had the cool genes!”

Ouch.

Hana had insisted that you sit with Sana after giving you a lecture, or was it her just scolding you? Same thing. You realize that you literally got lectured by a five-year-old, it humbled you a bit. 

The conversation between you and your niece ended after she gave you a pat on the cheek, fist-bumped you, and let you run off on your own as if she was your own guardian – how ironic. 

So, you make your way onto the big yellow bus, looking for the familiar face of someone who you think might be an angel. You wave to her and ask if you can sit next to her, she nods happily. Now you’re closer to Sana than you have ever been, all thanks to that five-year-old, and you’re not too mad about it.

You never fully noticed before, but she smelled really good, not in a weird way or anything – it’s just, she smelled like roses, fruit, and vanilla – it really fits her. Her shoulder was dangerously close to yours, and you figured you’d explode if you guys made even the slightest bit of contact. 

Sana is dressed up warmly too; she wears a thick, dark gray cardigan with a white shirt under, and the hem of the shirt peaks from under the cardigan. She’s dressed in casual pants, they’re loose on her legs and just a shade lighter than the cardigan she wears, and to top off the whole look, there are white sneakers that she wears. Her hair is tied up into a ponytail, and some strands fall over her face. She looks beautiful, you might faint right then and there.

Sana looks at you again and tilts her head a bit,

“You’re not sitting with Hana?” She questions, and immediately regrets it after wondering whether it sounded like she didn’t want you next to her, because she definitely did want to be next to you; in fact, you were the only thing she had on her mind last night before she fell asleep. You turn your head to look back at your niece, who’s laughing with Jihyo’s daughter,

“Hana wanted to sit next to Jiyeong. I guess it’s not too bad that she didn’t want to sit with me if I get to sit next to you now.” You say boldly. Sana looks at your expression, you look unbothered and the way you just flirted with her was so smooth it had her blushing from ear to ear. You give her your signature, toothy smile, and she has to take a moment, it makes her look away for a few seconds,

“Your niece kicked you out?” Sana teases, trying to compose herself,

“They grow up so fast.” You sigh playfully. Sana giggles.

The bus driver gives the signal that he’s ready to start heading to the art museum, Sana stands up and starts to talk to the students.

“Alright everyone, I’m going to need you all to use your indoor voices for Ms. Minatozaki. If you do so, we’ll get to the museum quicker, alright?” She announces,

“Yes Ms. Minatozaki!”

“Thank you, everyone. We’ll be there in twenty minutes, maybe less if you all behave, so make sure to leave a good impression on the bus driver and make it easier for him to get there!” Sana finally says. The students respond with another “Yes Ms. Minatozaki,” and the young teacher counts all the kids on the bus, making sure she doesn’t miss anyone. After making sure everyone is all aboard, she signals to the bus driver that they’re all good to go. The bus shifts a bit as it starts, then it starts moving forward.

In an attempt to spark small talk, Sana decides to bring up the weather.

“It’s getting cold, huh.” She mutters, looking out the window. You hum in response, looking in Sana’s direction, but not at the window. Your look stays on Sana’s side profile, and you wonder how every feature on her face is so flawless, whoever made her took their time for sure. Her nose is angled perfectly, and her plump lips are just barely parted as she stares out the window, you could stare at her forever.

Sana turns her head back towards you and you quickly shift your stare to the window to avoid eye contact and to make it seem like you weren't admiring her for the last ten seconds. You clear your throat.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Thank you for the latte, it was really good. It warmed me up.” Sana says. Eye contact is shared again and you bite the inside of your cheek,

“Anytime. I could uh, bring you more if you’d like?”

“It’s alright, I don’t want to make it seem like I’m using you for coffee.” She laughs, “But I appreciate the offer.”

“Well,” You start, “If you ever change your mind you can always tell me when you see me.” You shrug. Sana smiles at you again, nods, then gives you that look from your lips to your eyes that turns your heart into a beating mess. She looks out the window again and you have to stop yourself from admiring her the whole time.

A few words are shared between the two of you every time Sana spots something pretty, she talks about how it reminds her of things from her past or her friends. You learn a little more about her, she’s so pure and cute it’s heartwarming.

The bus ride goes well. 

As soon as the bus comes to a stop, the kids are all rowdy again, however, Sana quiets them down with ease. She simply claps her hand in the same pattern as she would usually do to grab their attention, and they clap their hands in the same pattern back, all eyes are on the young teacher now. 

“Alright everyone, we’ve made it! Now, in order for us to get started with our field trip, I’m going to need everyone to be patient and exit as I say. The grown-ups will exit first, then the kids. We’ll go by row and I’ll be the last one out, okay?”

“Yes Ms. Minatozaki!” The kids respond, and you admire how much they seem to trust and adore the teacher.

Getting everyone out of the bus was easy, each kid listened and Sana told the parents to keep them in a group once they had gotten out. Once the disembarking had finished, Sana made sure that everyone was present, taking another headcount. After knowing that no one had wandered away, she smiled and kindly ordered them to follow her.

-

After the guides had introduced themselves, given a brief description and synopsis of what the museum offered, and handed out maps, the class was split into groups of four. There were exactly twenty-eight students, seven guardians and/or parents, and Sana. With that amount of people, it was easy to make the groups.

Originally, Hana was set to be in the group that you and Jihyo would watch over, but Hana insisted that you switch with the parent paired with Sana. Jihyo and Hana talked for a few seconds, which you had noticed from the corner of your eye. They exchanged smiles and understanding nods, and whatever they plotted somehow allowed you to be with this wonder of a woman.

And so, you’re with Sana now.

Sana is happy to accept her new partner; in fact, she’s more than happy to spend time with the woman she’s been gushing over for weeks. 

The groups decide to pick their own section in the museum to start at and make their way through the whole place from there, making sure to meet in a few hours. 

-

Your group had seven kids, and each group did. You and the young teacher had stumbled across a certain section with an adult that would give the kids a thirty-minute detailed guided tour, leaving you and Sana to wait alone together and wander around the nearby exhibits. You two would’ve joined in on the tour, but of course, the max capacity was eight people. 

You had insisted that Sana should go join, after all, it was her class. Sana, being the caring person she was, had assured you it was okay if she missed the tour and stayed with you. The tour guide had made sure that he would take care of the kids, after all, the exhibit was mainly for young kids like them, and he had dealt with many before.

Fate decided that you two spend more time together, and this time, alone.

“Have you been to this museum before?” You ask.

“No, you?” 

“Once.” You mumble, “In high school.” 

“You’ve lived here since high school?” Sana questions, suddenly invested. You nod and look at the painting in front of you,

“I’ve lived here since I was in fifth grade, but in the more suburban area, rather than here in the city.” You simply respond.

“Well,” Sana hums, “Maybe you could show me around sometime.”

“W-what?” You practically choke out, a blush creeping to your cheeks. 

“I moved here at the beginning of the year, I’m still a bit new.” 

“I see,” You begin, trying to recompose yourself, “Yeah, It’s a nice area. I wouldn’t be against the idea of showing you around.”

Sana smiles and turns to face you again, “Maybe you could start by showing me around the museum? We have twenty-five minutes.” 

There’s a sudden nervousness that spreads throughout your whole body, as well as a warmth that spreads across your chest. Sana wants you to show her around, and she asks you like it’s a normal request (it is, but you figure it’s not because the person asking is particularly striking).

You nod your head and respond with a small, “Okay.” and her radiant grin grows.

The exhibits were all unique in their own way – some were filled with modern art, some with abstract art, and even some with Renaissance art. Each section had works that were all tremendously striking; however, the most beautiful thing in the museum had been by your side the whole time.  

Sana makes her way to a pleasant-looking painting, something floral. Maybe it’s an oil painting? She can’t really tell, but it sure is a wonder. It’s detailed and vibrant, the colors complement each other well with such a diverse color selection. Each stroke seems to have been placed so carefully, every single swipe of paint complimenting the stroke next to it.

Sana stares at the painting with much interest, “This one is beautiful,” she says in awe. 

“Very…” you hum, though, you aren’t observing the painting,

Your eyes are fixated on her.

-

The day goes by quickly, unfortunately.

You and Sana aren’t able to indulge in many conversations as you two were busy making sure everyone was still nearby and not running off.

The kids finish the painting activity that was scheduled for them at the end of the trip, and they leave the museum with their hand-crafted art. everything had gone by too fast, you wished it hadn’t, then maybe, you could admire Sana for just a few moments longer.

Sana helps everyone get situated on the bus, so you end up sitting down first and getting the window seat this time. You wait for her.

Sana sighs as she sits down next to you, a bit worn out from the day and keeping everyone in check.

You try to ignore the contact that her shoulder makes with yours when she shifts to get more comfortable in the seat, and you also try to ignore the fact that your knees touch a little, just for the sake of your sanity. Sana seems to be unbothered by the physical touch, and she looks at you innocently,

“I think the kids enjoyed it.” She says proudly, resting her head on the seat. She turns her head a little so that she’s looking at you with the most soft, tender look in her doe eyes, “Did you?” 

“Of course.” You say, voice just above a whisper. Of course I enjoyed it, who wouldn’t enjoy their time with a woman like you? You think. Sana lets out another content sigh, and she rests her head against your shoulder a bit, not even bothering to think about how bold the action is, she's too tired and she figures you wouldn't mind – you don't mind at all.

“I’m glad.” she mumbles, and you hope she can’t hear your heart beating out of your chest, “Wake me up before we get back?”

“Of course.” You hum lowly. Her eyes close and her weight seems to shift onto your shoulder more. Your cheeks redden and you let out a small breath as you relax into the seat – you couldn’t be any happier.

-

The chaperones and their kids bid their farewells to Sana, though you stay a bit longer since Hana and Jiyeong want to hang out more. Your mind wanders a bit and you can’t help but stare into the distance, and your gaze somehow manages to land on Sana as you remember what she had said: Maybe you could show me around sometime? The words seem to replay in your head, a thought pops up in your mind.

Jihyo looks over to see you in a trance, and she chuckles to herself as she notices what – or, who your eyes are fixated on,

“Did you two have fun?” The shorter woman asks, a smirk tugging at her lips. Your head turns quickly to her in surprise, cheeks turning a bit red as you realize you’ve gotten caught staring. Jihyo laughs at you playfully, shifting her look towards the woman you had been admiring before, “Sana was really excited to be able to spend time with you today.”

“M-me?” You stutter out, mentally punching yourself for such a response.

“You two are oblivious, I could tell from the few interactions I saw.” Jihyo sighs. 

You look back at Sana, who’s now walking over with a smile on her lips. She looks at you first, then at Jihyo when she meets with the two of you again,

“Everyone just left, sorry for making you wait, Jihyo.” Sana sighs. Her shoulders are drooping down a bit, and she seems ready to go home and rest again, though this time on her bed and not your shoulder (much to your dismay).

She turns to eye you again, and suddenly she’s full of life, as if the energy that had been squeezed out of her had suddenly come back. 

“Ah, y/n. I’m happy that you were able to chaperone. I’ll see you…?” She trails off for you to respond, or in this case, finish her sentence, because she hopes to see you again this week. 

“Um, I don’t think I’m picking up Hana for the rest of this week. My shifts go on until five because I took today off.” You explain, “So, next week.” You nod. There’s a familiar thought from earlier that crosses your mind, you avoid the woman’s gaze and try to forget about it.

Sana notices you biting the inside of your cheek and breaking eye contact as if you were about to say something to her. Sana decides to let it be.

“Well, we’ll be going now Y/n,” Jihyo says, almost sighing. She looks you dead in the eye and raises a brow, almost as if she could read your mind earlier, almost as if she were urging you to go through with your sudden thought. 

“Yeah… Me too. Um, yeah.” Your words are tumbling off the tip of your tongue from nervousness, “Hana, let’s go. Your dad must be waiting at home.” You finally say, waving to the two women and Jiyeong. 

As you depart, Jihyo looks at you slightly disappointed.

-

You’re back in the car after saying goodbye and you stare out the windshield while holding onto the wheel, simply thinking.

The sight of Jihyo and Sana catches your eye from the side-view mirror, and there’s a sudden rush of confidence that takes over. 

“Hana, I’ll be back in a bit.” you quickly say.

Your fingers fumble with the seatbelt that refuses to unbuckle due to your nervousness, though you manage and hurry to open your car door, rushing out. You’re trying your best to prepare yourself for whatever the fuck it is that you’re about to do, your jaw tensing up and your hands trying to straighten up the denim jacket you have on. Self-consciousness and worry took over, but you ignore it, you can’t have Jihyo looking at you like you’re a big loser the next time you see her, can you?

So, here you are. 

Jihyo notices you first and raises her brows in amusement, Sana notices you after seeing Jihyo’s expression shift. 

“Hey, Sana,” You say with a surprising amount of confidence. You clear your throat and your eyes dart to anywhere else but Sana’s eyes, “Can I talk to you for a moment,” You ask, “Alone.” and you practically mumble that last word. Sana tilts her head and Jihyo smiles knowingly, 

“I’ll be in the car,” Jihyo says amused, then grabs her daughter's hand with hers, urging her to come with and leave the two of you alone.

You and Sana are alone now, in the middle of a barely filled parking lot.

“Did you need something?” Sana questions. You nod and it takes a bit for you to continue talking, the words in your mouth getting tangled in your tongue. 

“Uh, well.” god, you really need to get a grip. “At the museum, you uh, you mentioned, well - you said, you said maybe I could show you around sometime? I mean I can. I hope you’re still up for it, I mean,” You close your eyes out of embarrassment and turn your head to the side a bit, and you really try to compose yourself this time.

“This Sunday, yeah. There’s always a flea market on Sundays, they’re on until around eight. We should go, I mean if you’d like. What I’m trying to say is I’d really like to show you around.” You finally say, you say what you’ve been thinking and you say it without tripping over your words. 

“You’re asking me out?” Sana asks playfully,

“You implied that you wanted me to.” You simply say, making eye contact with her again. Now it’s Sana’s turn to be all flustered as she looks up at you. Your eyebrows are slightly raised as you wait for an answer, and her cheeks are dusted a faint shade of pink as you waited for a response, 

“So?” You question again,

“I’d love that,” Sana says almost immediately.

“Really? I mean, yeah- yes. Okay, that’s,”

“You’re so cute.” is what Sana says, and it has your heart skipping a beat, Sana’s heart too, “Let me get your number, so you can text me the details?”

“Yeah, here.” You respond, handing her your unlocked phone. 

You both exchange numbers, and before departing you can’t help but grin at each other, and you grin at each other for a while.

Mission success.

-

You agree to pick up Sana from her place in the evening around five. 

Your fingers tap against the wheel of your car and you tap your foot anxiously as you wait. There’s a sound that’s heard from your phone as it vibrates against the cup holder, and you immediately check to see what it is. There’s a message from the young teacher and your eyes light up immediately as you open it,

Sana

I’m on my way out right now

Can’t wait

y/n

Take your time

Can’t wait to see you

You probably look like a fool who's in love as you read her message, reply, and hit send because you’re smiling at the screen and biting your lip slightly from the rush of excitement that courses through your veins.

Sana shows up a couple of minutes later.

Your eyes widen almost immediately and your cheeks are definitely tinted – no, fully crimson. Your grip on the wheel tightens, and it seems to do so every time you see the wonderful woman. Your heart does flips and beats at an unhealthy rate as you take in everything about her. 

She wears something so striking, but slightly casual too. She has on a black blazer, almost a jacket, you think. It’s worn over a black shirt and the tops she wears are complimented by silver jewelry that loops around her neck, sitting just above her collarbone level. She’s wearing dark jeans that are just slightly loose around her legs, and casual sneakers to really top it off. 

She’s so incredibly stunning that it makes you wonder if you’re dreaming.

Sana waves as she makes her way over and you’re trying your best to act normal – or at least act like this woman isn’t making you completely lose your cool.  

“Hey.” She says, getting in your car,

“Hi.” You say in awe, “You look beautiful.” and that’s just an understatement. You’re unable to look away from her as if your eyes were a moth and she was the flame drawing you in. Sana simply smiles and she’s extremely flattered by your compliment, as well as the way your lips slightly part while you check her out.

“Thank you.” Sana responds as she puts on her seatbelt, “You look really cute.”

You’re going to explode.

“Thanks.” You mumble, quickly turning your head away and back to the steering wheel. Sana plays the passenger princess role too well, with emphasis on the princess part because her looks are something you would expect to see from a descendant of royalty, something in a renaissance painting that has the words 'do not touch' beside it. You adjust the rearview mirror for no apparent reason as it’s already been adjusted, but you’re doing anything to distract yourself from the jaw-dropping sight to the right of you.

As you drive toward the city, there’s the faint sound of a slow romance song playing. The mood is extremely intimate and romantic, you’re having trouble focusing on driving as your heartbeat ups its pace. 

It takes about fifteen minutes to get to the flea market area downtown. Fifteen minutes of small conversation and Sana’s gaze on you every couple of minutes.

You two arrive and you turn off your engine, making sure to get out first and open the door for Sana. She gets out and smiles at you sweetly, which makes you smile back. You close the car door for your passenger princess. 

The brisk winter air carries a hint of anticipation that invites everyone to immerse themselves in the weekly event. It’s early winter and darkness envelops the slightly crowded, dimmed, and busy streets. the sun had almost set completely, though there are bright lights that illuminate the areas which seem to be hidden away from the lamp posts that lighten up the main streets. Each store and vendor has its own uniqueness, selling different types of items, clothing, accessories, and more.

You and Sana walk towards the flea markets, the space between you two getting smaller and shoulders occasionally brushing every now and then. The two of you explore and interact with any vendor or stand that seems to have anything interesting, which helps you learn about one another.

Sana learns that you have an interest in old rings, silver ones specifically. You buy three silver rings, and it all ended up being ten dollars in total. She learns that you have a liking towards graphic t-shirts; in fact, you buy two while walking around. Sana had picked out both for you, telling you that you’d look cute in them, making your cheeks flush, though your cheeks might've been red ever since you laid your eyes on her. 

You buy an old vintage camera and film for less than thirty dollars, and Sana thinks it’s so extremely cute how your face lights up after you purchase the two items, holding them up as if they were trophies you had won.

You learn that Sana seems to love jewelry, and she buys various bracelets and necklaces for herself and even buys one of each for you. You insist that it’s okay and you don’t need it, but you give in when she looks at you with those puppy eyes – you learn that you can’t say no to her. Sana buys a few samples of fragrances, and she explains that she’s always had a thing for collecting different scents, you think it’s adorable. 

You’re the one who had asked Sana on this date, but she’s the one who ends up dragging you to every little section that manages to catch her attention. The knuckles that brush against each other lead to the intertwining of fingers and flushed cheeks. 

After almost two hours of walking around and exploring, you two decide to relax and get ice cream, even in the cold weather because the two of you are warmed up enough from just being around each other, ice cream won’t hurt anyone.

“Have you tried this ice cream place before?” You ask Sana, who’s taking a picture of the dessert in front of her. She shakes her head,

“No, you?”

“Twice. Once in high school with Johnny and last year with Hana.” You explain, taking a bite from the sweet treat in front of you. It’s matcha flavored, though the sweetness is still there. The strength of the matcha is more prominent than the coconut base, just how you like it.

Sana melts as she takes a bite of her strawberry ice cream, her eyes lighting up and shoulders relaxing. You can’t help but laugh.

“What?” Sana questions, 

“You’re just really cute.” You simply say, taking another bite of your ice cream. Sana’s heartbeat quickens. Sana tries to compose herself in front of you, changing the topic of the conversation,

“So,” She clears her throat, “What do you like to do? It’s a cliche and unavoidable question, but other than being a barista do you do anything else?”

“I actually write a little. I used to write for some art articles online, I still do it every now and then.” You explain, “You?”

“Just teaching.”

“Did you always want to teach?” 

“Yeah, actually. I’ve always liked helping others and I don’t know, I like encouraging the kids.”

“That’s cute.” You mumble, “You’re so cute.”

The night goes on and you two learn more than just about your interests in occupations. Sana learns that you rock climb every weekend, which explains why you’re so unbelievably athletic looking and toned. She finds your love for cooking and making drinks extremely cute and admirable, it seems as if the more she learns about you, the more she falls for you. She learns that you moved to the city with Johnny when you were 18, and that was the same time Hana had been brought into your life, one of the best things the universe had given to you. You’re the type of person who lives life to experience the beauty the universe has to offer, she thinks that’s amazing. 

You learn that Sana had moved with the help of Jihyo and that they had been friends since college, Jihyo was also the reason Sana had landed her current job. Sana shares that she’s an only child, and in contrast to you, she wasn’t the athletic type really. You notice how bubbly she is talking to you, her more professional demeanor had completely broken down and a new, lively side was revealed. Sana is incredibly talkative and she rambles a lot, you think – no, you know you could get used to this.

The night had gone by too fast, Sana is back in your car again and you’ve just reached her apartment complex.

It seems that time spent with Sana seems to go by too quickly, and you hope that there's a chance of being able to spend more than just a couple of hours with her.

“Thank you for everything y/n, I really enjoyed tonight.”

“It’s no problem,” You start, “I’m glad you liked downtown.”

“Maybe you could show me around again sometime? I’d really like to do this again.” Sana says, and her toothy grin is so bright it nearly outshines the lights in your car.

“I’m not against that at all.” and you think you might die right then and there from the way your heart beats, and you want this moment to last forever; just you and Sana together.

“I’ll see you then, text me.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. She opens the car door and your heart breaks slightly, not ready for her to leave just yet.

Sana seems to have read your emotions because she pauses before she gets out and turns to you.

“Wait,” She begins, “I forgot something.” 

Before you ask her what it is that she had forgotten, she seems to answer your question before you can even let any words out of your mouth,

her lips are suddenly on yours.

The contact is sudden and you’re a bit unprepared, but you easily grow accustomed to it and kiss right back, eyes fluttering shut. Sana’s lips are so incredibly soft on yours, and the scent of vanilla and fruit is takes over your senses. Sana pulls away and your lips chase for hers again, and when they meet again it’s like the oxygen from Sana’s lungs had been snatched. Your hand moves to cup her cheek and your shoulders relax in the moment because it feels as if nothing else in the world matters except for her, as if all your worries had vanished just like that. Sana moves her hand to your neck and gently caresses it as you two share a few more soft, slow, and steady kisses, there’s no rush as if this moment would last forever. You two are practically unable to pull away from how much you both like the feeling of each other's lips on one another.

You want to live in this moment forever.

You two finally pull away after what had seemed like forever, though your hands seem to linger on each other a bit and both of your lips are parted slightly. Your lips are still so close that they’re slightly brushing against each other, butterflies are in your stomach and you’re forgetting how to breathe, think, or even function.

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I saw you.” Sana mumbles against your mouth, “You’re so cute.” 

If you were in a cartoon right now, you’d think your heart would be dramatically beating out of your chest, and your jaw would be on the floor. You pull away a bit and it’s almost impossible to make eye contact with Sana, but you manage to do so anyway. 

“I think I might die right here right now.” You mumble, it’s the only thing you can say or think of in the moment. Sana giggles and presses another soft peck on your lips,

“Let’s do this again.”

“Yeah.” You breathe out. 

the light from the car shows her flushed cheeks and warm smile as she leans away from you, opening the car door and smiling at you one more time as she closes it. She turns to leave and you’re left in the car alone, your heart beat slowly beating back to its normal pace. 

You put a hand on the wheel and grip it tightly, still processing what just happened before smiling to yourself and driving away from the apartment complex.

Sana has you head over heels, and you want to kiss her again and again.

-

Chaemin had been teaching the new high school student that had been hired. He helped her measure out the espresso grinds, telling her how many grams would be needed for whichever drink, and she listened carefully.

“Hello.” A customer beams, Chaemin turns his head.

“Hello, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Chaemin starts, giving the woman a friendly smile, “Eunchae, just measure out the grinds and pull a shot. Give it a try and I’ll be back.” He says to the young, new employee.

Chaemin walks over to the register and taps at the screen. He gives the woman his signature smile and greets her,

“Hi, what can I get started for you?”

“Oh, I’m not ordering, I was just wondering if y/n was here?”

Chaemin quirks a brow, “Y/n?”

“Yeah, she should be off in ten minutes, no?”

“She’s off soon, just putting stuff in the back. You are...?”

“Sana.”

Ah.

“So you’re the woman she’s been gushing over.” Chaemin laughs, “God she has not stopped talking about you since she met you.”

Sana’s smile grows a bit from the sudden remark and she laughs,

“I see… That’s sweet.”

“You had her going insane for three months.” Chaemin jokes playfully, “I’m glad she finally found a way to ask you out. I haven’t heard her complaining as much about not being able to take you out for about two months or something, though she’s still always gushing about you.”

Sana and Chaemin talk about you for a bit, laughing at your antics and Chaemin decides to tease you here and there. The two get along very well, and Sana is very happy about that.

“You know one time, I think, maybe before you two started dating? She came in the morning and asked me what a ‘young teacher usually order at a cafe’ and I swear she almost-” Chaemin gets cut off when you push him aside, pushing his face away with your hand and squishing his cheeks. He groans. 

“Alright that’s enough.” You say, embarrassed. “Whatever he said, do not listen.” 

Sana giggles and it’s time for you to stop being annoyed by Chaemin and start smiling at the girl you’ve been with for almost three months now. Chaemin narrows his eyes at your sudden mood change, scoffing playfully.

“Hi, Sana.” You say all giddy, “You didn’t tell me you were stopping by,”

“I wanted to see you. It’s also Friday, maybe we could-”

“Yes.” You cut her off, “I’m down for whatever.” 

Chaemin rolls his eyes at you, chuckling to himself, “You’re so-”

“Go back to teaching Eunchae.” You retort, narrowing your eyes and Chaemin can't lie you look scarier than usual, you are infatuated with this woman. 

“I’m not letting this go.” Chaemin finally sighs, walking back over to Eunchae.

Your attention is back on Sana, who’s smiling at you, “Dinner?” she asks,

“Yeah.” you respond, “Where?”

“My place?” Sana suggests, you nod,

"Let me get my stuff and I can drive us."

"Okay." She beams.

-

You two grow extremely fond of each other after spending more time together as a couple. Three months of being together turned into four months, six months eight, and suddenly you’re together for a year. Each and every second that passed by while you were with her is another moment that you had fallen more in love.

You love Sana for so many reasons.

She's the only one you want to see when you roll over in the morning, the only one you want to kiss awake after intimate nights after seeing her with her oh-so-messy hair flowing down in different directions around her. You love to carry her to your now shared living room and set her on the couch while you make her coffee, her giving you the kisses you can never get enough of, ones that you reciprocate and smile into. You love her radiant smile and the way her nose scrunches up when she giggles at you for slipping and falling on accident, you love the sound of her high-pitched giggles so much that you would purposely slip and fall over and over again just to hear her laugh again and again. 

As you grow more attracted and attached to Sana, the physical aspects of her seem to disappear for a moment, you fall for not just her outside beauty, but all the internal aspects. You’re in love with how comfortable she makes you feel – you can sit in silence for hours and there are no words that need to be said because you two simply just enjoy each other's presence. You’re in love with how caring she is, she naturally is a caring person, she always has been. She’s always looking after kids at her job, making sure they’re all satisfied and happy – then she comes home to you, making sure you’re loved, and you return the favor. She’s beautiful not because of the way her features fit perfectly on her face, but because she makes you feel so giddy and happy. She makes you smile and that’s the thing that really makes her so captivating. 

You’re in love with all of her, from her physical beauty to her caring heart. She is the one who you love so tenderly, so warmly, you love her and it’s real, genuine, and you don’t think you could ever love anyone the way you love her.

Sana also loves you for many reasons. She’s been in love with you since the day she saw you – whether she knew it or not.

The first time Sana had woken up next to you she knew she wanted to be with you forever.

Her nose was buried in the crook of your neck and her arm was lazily thrown across your chest while her legs were tangled with yours. The only thing that was heard that morning was your slow, labored breaths, and Sana could feel your chest rise up and down with each one. A smile had formed on her lips as she traced your jawline, her heart fluttered and the moment was so simple, yet so soft. Sana wanted to live in the moment forever.

Sana loved you because you were there when she needed a pillar of support, you were her pillar of support. She loved you because you loved and cared for everyone important to you, whether it was your parents, Johnny, or Hana, you loved them all so deeply and it was so genuine that it made Sana so incredibly happy to realize that you would love her as much as you loved them – it’s almost as this love that you had for everyone you cared about was the most precious thing in the world, and she was someone you shared it with.

Sana loved the late-night drives with you, humming softly to the romantic music that would play. She loved the way you’d mumble sleepily in the morning, your cheek squished against the pillow, it was a cute sight. She adored you when you would pull her aside and serenade her to slow songs in the living room during the evening, and she loved when you'd cook or make coffee for her, how you’d kiss her as she fell weak to your touch, and so many other things that not enough words could ever describe. 

Sana felt so lucky to have you in her life, she was so glad that your niece had her as a teacher because if she didn’t she wouldn’t have met you. You were so glad that Hana had helped you get to know her kindergarten teacher, you were so glad that Johnny had that business trip because it allowed you to meet Sana.

 You’re so glad that a five-year-old helped you meet the love of your life, you're so damn glad.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Seventeen

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 4,562

Themes; isekai, eventual smut, slowburn, canon divergence

Rating; 18+ for swearing and eventual mature themes

Notes; Only update for this week! I decided that it's better to drop my updates down from multiple to just one per week– just until I get a few buffer chapters in-between where my chapters are here and what I'm currently writing!

Also Tumblr on mobile seems to really hate anything over 4k so I'm not sure what to do when it comes to posting longer chapters– but if I do, I probably won't be able to add itallics and bold, but I'm sure no one would mind if I didn't go through and add those little details.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! It's yet another memory one that will span over two chapters (including this one).

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Masterlist

“Y/n…Sweetie, wake up.” You hear a voice and a gentle hand shakes your shoulder. Your eyes slowly opened and your cheeks felt damp. Once your eyes are fully open, you wipe your face and rest a hand on your chest. It tightly grips the front of your dress as you struggle to breathe. Your gaze goes to Sylus with wide eyes and you look around, confused to see the interior of a car and not the beautiful lake you were just at. 

The only reminder of your dream laid In your hand…A gem, devoid of colour as if its power had been drained, was in your palm. Was this the aether core Xavier found? No…no way that would've followed you back.

“Where..?” You were still disoriented, trying to keep a grip on which reality was your own. Your hands were trembling.

“We’re back at the house, sweetie. Or did you forget where we were going?” Sylus's voice sounds soft. It sounds too kind, much sweeter than his usual tone with you. Were you somehow in a different kind of dream now? 

“No— I...” You hold your head in your shaking hands. “I had a dream...It..” You want to punch yourself in the chest– anything to try and fix the disorder nestled deep in your heart. 

“I know, you started crying so suddenly. I was almost scared.” Sylus seems rather calm as he speaks, not waiting for you to elaborate as he opens the car door, “I told you it would be happening more often. You just need to be prepared for it.” His hand reaches out for you as the cool breeze nips at your skin. 

“But I felt– Months passed, Sylus. Seasons changed and it’s only been an hour.” You stammer as you try to get out of the car, but your knees almost give out underneath you. 

Sylus lets out a sigh and picks you up bridal style. “Was it scary?’ He asks, softly, as he carries you inside. “No…just really sad,” You reply, resting your head on his chest, “And I feel even more tired than before…I felt like I haven’t slept at all…”

“It’s just the first of many,” He muses, not bothering to ask what it was about or explain how he knew so much as he enters your room, and lays you down on your bed. “I’m sorry there’s not much I can do for you,” He speaks in a low register as he takes your hair down from its up-do, running his fingers through the strands, before he gently removes your jewelry. “But I can sit right next to the bed if you want me to. You know I don’t sleep around this time.” 

You press your lips together in a thin line, before quickly nodding as you grab his hand, “Please?” 

Sylus doesn’t give you a response, but he keeps a tight hold on your hand while you slowly fall back asleep…

The next memory is more involved than the last. You’re not sure who this one is about just yet, but judging by the ghastly sight of bloated corpses and water steadily filling up a ship as a storm raged on, you can only assume it’s Rafayel’s.

From what you could see, it was a dark and stormy night on the high seas. Some of the ship’s crew were talking about a sacrifice that had gone missing and to let down the sails as the stormy sea was too strong from their ship. The large boat was rocking back and forth from the force of the waves, and you almost felt seasick.

You notice waterlogged bodies floating past you as you were hidden behind a wooden storage box. Then, suddenly, your arms are seized in a tight grip and you’re dragged to the edge of the deck. Your eyes widening as the sight of the dark, unforgiven see was all you could see below. “Now throw her overboard!”

What? You were the sacrifice!?

Amidst your surprise, you begin to hear a faint melody, a song sounding as if the sea itself were singing to you. Calling out to you, almost, and like an invisible hand, the melody calms down the raging whirls of the ocean and the winds die down.

“Fools…Any further and a storm would be the last thing on your minds.”

Rafayel?

Though you can’t ponder on your thoughts for too much longer as you’re tossed overboard. Your limbs spread out in a panic as you try to slow your descent into the depths. You can hear the emissaries cheering as you, their sacrifice who was raised for years just for this very reason, finally fulfilled your purpose.

A sinking sense of fear overwhelms your body and the salty ocean water drowns out your pleas and cries for help. Briny water engulfs your body and your eyes burn as you try to keep them open from under the crashing waves. You could’ve tried to hold your breath, but it was already too late. 

Your panic had caused you to take in gulps of water and you felt your vision fading. You could feel yourself slowly…and painfully suffocating. Before you lost consciousness, however, you felt something warm envelop you.

Whenever you resurfaced, you greedily gasped for air, coughing out salty water, and felt the cool rain hit your face. Then, you turn toward your savior but your pleasantries die on your lips as you meet his beautiful, otherworldly eyes. 

Those familiar, charming bluish-pink eyes.

“Were you abandoned?” He asks, holding an ornate flute as he seemingly stands on top of the now calm waves. The ethereal melody you heard earlier had since disappeared as he was no longer playing his flute.

“Save me…please.” Is all you can croak out and the purple haired man chuckles. He sits down on a piece of driftwood. 

Under the moonlit night sky, he looks at you, the scales on his neck emitting a faint glow. He’s lemurian?

“Did you ask for my assistance?” He asks, raising a brow as he rests his arm across his leg. Then, you take a moment to look at him, really look at him. 

He had paint-like markings on his face under his right eye, the paint marks were also along his shoulders and chest. Were they tribal markings? He was wearing gold jewelry, the bangles wrapped tightly around his biceps and wrists. A sheer, blue sash across his right shoulder seemed to be the only form of top he had on and his pants were more of a white and gold tunic.

He brings you back to the situation at hand by holding his hand out to you. That’s when you realize his nails were also painted black.

You reach out toward him but, when your hands touch, flames burst forth from his fingers. You let out a squeak of surprise and jerk your hand back, but he starts laughing, amused at his little joke. You, in turn, puff your cheeks out and grab his hand tightly.

Even if this was a memory from the past, it seems Rafayel still acts just the same. It almost makes you want to stay in this dream forever, having missed the man after not seeing him for some time.

The man makes a noise in the back of his throat as you squeeze his hand, “Release me.” The scales on his neck are raised ever so slightly like a cat’s bristling fur. “I said release me!” 

Another thought crosses your mind, an even older memory that a lemurian’s kiss can allow one to breathe underwater. This gives you an idea since you’re trapped in the ocean with no other way to survive, you decide to take your chances.

You suddenly reach forward to cup your hands on either side of his face, catching the man off guard, and kiss him. Your lips smash against his in a clumsy kiss, your teeth clinking together in your desperation for survival. 

The lemurian lets out a small gasp of surprise as you plead with him again to save you. Your vision becomes more blurry by the second, but you desperately try to hold his gaze.

After a long silence passes, his voice rings in your ears– low…soft…almost like he’s casting a spell to enthrall someone, “I will grant you deliverance and in exchange, offer yourself, your everything to me. Become my follower mortal.”

After this exchange, you assume you passed out. You hear children whispering about whether you’re alive or not. As the conversation turns toward the children wanting to use your possible dead body for dissections, you open your eyes. 

The first thing you notice is that you’re in a rather luxurious room. It’s completely covered in the colour blue. From the drapes across the windows to the bedsheets, to the walls. 

The children are, understandably, surprised that you woke up in the middle of their conversation. “Where am I?” You ask, slowly sitting up, “Am I below the waves?” You realize you’re probably asking too many questions and bring your hand up to rub your temples. “Keep your distance– she bites.”

You knew that sassy demeanor like the back of your hand. You puff your cheeks out, annoyed that he had to scare those poor children with nonsense. 

Rafayel stood by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and, as you took a moment to take him in during the daytime, you realized he was quite attractive. He was always attractive, but in his lemurian garb, he was all the more so.

Though, you do notice that his mouth is swollen and there seems to be a wound on his lips.

Oh, did you…

Once he meets your gaze, he glares at you. “Uhm...where am I?” You finally ask after a few moments of silence.

“A single glance would reveal that you’re in Lemuria. Treat her wounds and give her clean clothes. I’ll inform Elder Amund that we’ve found my devout follower.” He says and you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. “Uhm, you’re my savior right? I should express my gratitude—”

Though, he leaves before you can even finish your sentence. 

Maybe…You should go back to the real world after all. You miss Rafayel. 

A young girl with beautifully braided blue hair pops up from her hiding spot and excitedly sits on the edge of the bed, “Worry not! When Rafayel brought you back, it seemed you’d been vomiting bubbles with the crabs for a fortnight.”

Then she continued, “My name is Algie and he’s Konche. You’re the first live human we’ve met! Well...There are ones who swam along the currents, but none of them could talk like you.” 

The blue haired boy next to her scolds her, “You’re scaring her, sister. Look, her hands are shaking like a shrimp seeing a whale for the first time!” 

“My apologies, I didn’t mean it!” Algie quickly clasps her hands together apologetically. “You’re fine. Don’t worry about it but…May I ask why you brought me here?” You ask, head slightly tilted to the side.

“You’ll know when you visit the temple.” Algie says, “It’s a very, veerrry long tale. I’ll tell you on the way!” 

She said that in the Deep Sea lies the forgotten kingdom of Lemuria and that the God of the Sea lives there. He protects whatever the briny sea touches and his followers include not just denizens of the ocean, but also humans. His most devout followers must gift him a heart so he has the strength to protect Lemuria and becomes the god recognized by the entire ocean.

Hmm…Rafayel did say ‘we found my devout follower’. Does that mean he wants your heart? And not in the romantic way??

It’s said that the Sea God of this generation was born in flames as dusk turned to dawn and only he can use fire.

Huh, Rafayel did use fire earlier…

In the Tome of the Sea god, it’s stated that in Whalefall City’s temple lies a great flame that has burned for thousands of years and that if this fire were to ever go out, then Lemuria shall fall into a deep slumber for centuries.

So…to keep the flame alive, the Sea God requires a certain human follower. It cannot be a lemurian, it must be a human because they are some of the most selfish, greediest creatures so when they offer their hearts, love, or even their lives, it’s considered the most precious form of worship. This Tome also confirms that Rafayel will be the last God of the Sea.

Once in the temple with Rafayel, you gaze upon the fire in the middle of the room. It almost resembles a sun about to go out.

“She’s most suited to be the one.” You hear Rafayel say and you really hope he doesn’t mean to toss you into the fire as a sacrifice. “Her?” You hear an older voice from across the room.

A man in a robe, holding a staff, questions, “She is the human your Quintessence has decided on?”

“‘Twas more of fate’s whimsy. I wandered about on the earth and became her cushion when she fell.” Rafayel speaks as if you were a stray animal that he had brought home out of the kindness of his heart. 

“For now, I shall forget that your Quintessence snuck out and burned the guard’s hair. I must ask again, is she truly to be the human your Quintessence is bound to?” 

“As long as the Sea God’s ceremony is assured, I’ll make her my follower.” Is all Rafayel says in response before he goes back to being the sassy Rafayel you truly know, “However, we should remove all of her teeth and nails. I worry she’d bite and scratch us if given the opportunity.”

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea,” You finally manage to get a sentence out. Amund sighs, “Once a lemurian is bound to someone, it’s impossible to go against their wishes. She will have the power to command your Quintessence. When the two of you barely know each other, is that something worth giving?”

The light flickers on Rafayel’s face and he lowers his head to ruminate about his answer. Then, the Elder leaves so you and Rafayel are alone.

“So…if you’ve yet to decide, can I be set free? I promise I won’t speak of this to anyone.” Though you try your luck, Rafayel continues to stand there. “The day has dragged on long enough. I’m tired.” He sighs, finding a comfortable spot on the floor to sit down. 

“What’re you doing?” You question, still standing up. “Sleeping.” He answers simply. “Why??” You are appalled but Rafayel continues, “Wake me before nightfall.”

 “You—” 

He ignores you, leaning his back against a marble pillar as he closes his eyes. The temple is heavily guarded, so all you can do is sit in a corner and ponder how you were going to escape. Though your thoughts are regularly interrupted by Rafayel’s breathing and after an hour of it, you’re fed up by it. “Rafayel! Ra-fay-el!” You try to wake him up, hands on your hips. Though, he doesn’t react. 

A small blue fish suddenly appears and begins swimming around his shoulders.

“Oh– where did you come from? You’re so cute...” You muse, reaching a finger out to poke the fish with a small smile on your lips. “Do you know the way out, Oh little fish?” The fish swims in a circle and settles on your finger as you softly giggle at it. “Do you understand me?” You softly ask the fish, completely endeared with it, “Could you show me a way out?” 

Flicking its translucent tail, the fish swims to the stained-glass window behind the alcove...

“Half a day has disappeared like sea foam,” You sigh, walking through the beautiful hallway of the temple, “Why have we returned to these crossroads?” A pout dances across your lips, “Do you lack a sense of direction or do all fish have terrible memory?” 

Twirling its tail, the fish suddenly swims into a crowd and leaves you behind. “Where–” You sigh, shaking your head, “I can’t believe I’m trying to talk to a fish.” The fish finally leads you to a coral reef and goes into a small hole in the city’s walls.

“Do I have to swim through that?” You question and the fish spits bubbles at you, almost as if trying to communicate. “I’m coming. I'm coming.” You sigh, swimming through the narrow passageway until you’re on a beach alcove.

You dust the sand off of your knees in triumph. “I’ve definitely got to think of a way to express my gratitude to the fishies…I could possibly feed them during the Sea God’s ceremony,” You murmur to yourself.

“Was it fun to explore Lemuria?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of Rafayel’s voice. “Rafayel!?”

“There is no need to shout my name.” He says behind a silk curtain, before he steps out to face you. 

He lifts his finger and the little fish swims around it, then transforms into a blue scale that lands in his palm. The fish was his own creation!? 

“You planned this?” You groan. “‘Twas a test for you. Elder Amund was right. Human promises are nothing but meaningless words.” “Huh– When did I make a vow to you??” You were a bit exasperated.

“I told you to wake me before nightfall, didn’t I?” Rafayel crosses his arms over his chest and then yawns, seemingly not upset in the slightest. “Besides, when I saved you from the ocean’s clutches, we made an oath. Did you forget?”

“That…counted? Look, you’re the sea god, respectful and awe-inspiring. Can’t you consider my rescue an act of kindness and let me go?” You rub the back of your neck as you look away from the man.

“I am not a God who answers every whim. The ceremony is to take place in a month and, as you’re aware, ceremonies always need–” He rests his chin in his hand as he narrows his eyes, filling you with a sense of dread.

“...Followers right? There are plenty on land. You know? The ones who wear robes and pray to you every day. They’re more devout than me.” You quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear him say the word ‘sacrifices’.

“Alright…Then, return to me your life.” He says, one hand on his hip. His other hand reaches out toward you as if grabbing an invisible rope that’s tied tightly around your neck. Though you're unsure of what he’s doing, suddenly you can’t breathe. 

You place a hand over your chest, doubling over for a moment as you reach toward your throat and cough. Water enters your nose and throat. Did he…take away your ability to breathe underwater? “Wait, wait!” You panic, air bubbles escaping your mouth as you try to speak, “I’ll do anything you ask!” 

Suddenly, a grin spreads across Rafayel’s lips and he loosens his hold. You find yourself able to breathe again. “‘Tis not worship I desire. From the very depths of your soul, I seek only the purest devotion.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“The tides ebb and flow and with every setting sun is a moon rising. ‘Till time’s end, I should occupy your every thought. You must believe in me alone.” Rafayel says as he walks closer to you and your eyes widen a bit.

Okay, that’s hot—

“You mean I…” You trail off and the tips of your ear turn a pretty shade of pink. “Think of it from another perspective,” He pokes your chest, specifically where your heart lies. He acts as if he’s stating a truth, “Thou must find a means by which thy heart becomes smitten with me.”

‘Find someone who will kiss you, even if you do not give them the world. Love a soul that is like your own, that which compliments you. Love and death are the most important things in life. Death is a matter of time, so love with all your heart can muster.’

- Lemuria: Tome of the Sea God, Chapter 3  

The two of you ended up sneaking to the top of the temple’s spire to watch the sunset. After a few days, you had grown used to the Lemurian’s snarky demeanor. You had also learned a bit more about him, like how he doesn’t like people touching him but is fine with you gently holding his hand.

You recall Amund saying that once the Sea God is bound to a person, they’ll do anything they command so as Rafayel sits down in the shade to nap, you decide to bother him for a bit. His eyes are closed with his arms crossed over his chest, so you reach your hand out to grab his.

“Make some flames for me,” You ask. Rafayel lifts his fingers up before curling them back around yours, but doesn’t say a word.

“Hmm...I didn’t work at all,” You murmur with a pout. “Don’t waste your time.” He lazily opens his eyes. “One should practice silence when watching the sunset.” He drops your hand, resting his arm on his propped up knee. 

“Do you want to see the real sun, Rafayel?”

“I do not.” He simply says and the blue fish from earlier reappears. “You wanted to sneak onto the beach the day we met,” You say as the fish swirls around his palm.

“Your tongue barely moved when we first met. Back then you were rather…” He trails off, bringing his hand up to his mouth to tap his lips.

A crimson red blush appears on his ear tips before spreading across his cheeks. His eyes widen as he catches your gaze and he quickly looks away.

“This side of you is much more to my liking.” He finally finishes his sentence. 

You tap his shoulder, “Hey, so on the surface we have a Sea God ceremony too. We play wonderful songs on lyres and...”

“Were the surface world as lovely as you claimed, you’d be elsewhere,” He glances toward you before looking back up at the light in the distance. 

“There are evil people on the surface! Once they learnt you were Lemurian, your tears that turn into pearls would be harvested day after day endlessly.” You try to spook him, though deep down you knew there would actually be humans as evil as that. Rafayel crosses his arms over his chest as he shakes his head, “If you were to persuade me to bring you to the beach, you’ll run away.” 

Though after a few moments of silence, Rafayel leans back against the marble column behind him. “Is the surface world’s sunset different from the one in the ocean?”

“Honestly...my memory of it is hazy…” You trail off as he closes his eyes and you take your chance to sit closer to him.  Your head slowly drifts down to rest against the column as well– close to him but not touching him since you recall him saying he doesn’t like to be touched.

“You take me to see the sun and I’ll take you to see the festival...What do you think?” You ask as you look up at him, drinking every detail of his face. Though, as silence fills the room, you realize Rafayel had most likely fallen asleep. The tranquil nature of the situation also somehow makes you sleepy as well and your head leans against his shoulder, almost close enough to touch his head. 

Though, you’re hesitant to fully lean against his shoulder. Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer and hear Rafayel tiredly go, “Mmhm.” almost as if saying you’re okay to lean on him. You lift your gaze to look up at his face, worried he was awake, but all you see is his closed eyes. His face way too close to yours, so you instead close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as you join him in sleep…

After a few days, Rafayel decides to go to the beach with you to watch his own celebration first hand. You tell him of how the emissaries on land had adopted you and raised you as a follower of the sea god, only to tell you that you were a sacrifice years later.

You talk of how you wouldn’t have been able to escape because of the island’s size. It was nice to be able to actually talk with someone about your situation for once.

Then, you both enter the festival with driftwood masks that Rafayel made and you overhear a storyteller.

“Unable to break his vow with the girl and his own burning passion, the God of the Sea left the ocean and lived happily ever after with his beloved...”

The children talk amongst themselves after the puppet show. “But Lemuria is centered around bonds. Without it, the Sea God won’t remember or obey her!” A little girl says, clearly upset over the ending.

“What are you talking about? The God of the Sea will find his beloved and live happily ever after,” The little boy next to her sighs, not understanding her. 

The young girl lets out a huff of annoyance before tugging at your sleeve as she looks up at you, “What do you think, Miss? Will the Sea God be with her because he loves her or because of their vow?” “Uh...” You glance over at Rafayel before clearing your throat, “All of those legends of Lemuria are just made-up nonsense…”

Though, you seem to have made the wrong choice as the children start crying. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t...” You panic, not used to being around children enough to deal with the situation.

“What about you, Sir? Does Lemuria exist? Would the Sea God gift his heart to a human?” The girl quickly turns to Rafayel for an answer.

The man in question, the Sea God himself, rests his chin on his hand before nodding, “He would. Lemuria is my homeland, so that is how I know.”

Should...he be saying that? You tried to cover his mouth with your hands, but he pushed you away.

“What are Lemurians like?” She asked, excitedly.

“Hmm…Their tears turn into glimmering pearls, and their voices bring dreams of wonder. Their blood can make one live forever or even resurrect the dead.” You really don’t think Rafayel should be saying this but the girl quickly sighs, “I already knew that.”

“Lemurians don’t fall in love with people they’re bound to. ‘Tis a human fantasy.” Rafayel says with a shrug and you can’t help but frown.

“What else?” The little girl jumps up and down.

“Are you that curious?” Rafayel teases with a smile ghosting across his lips. It seems like the Sea God adores children– how cute.

Though, you could only faintly hear the conversation from afar, having walked away after Rafayel said Lemurians don’t fall in love with the humans they’re bound to.

Hmph, you’d just drink your sorrows away with some pomegranate wine.

You take a sip of the wine, being distracted by all of the lights and stalls like an excited little puppy.

Suddenly, the girl walks up to you and tugs on your sleeve again. “Miss! Your friend said that if you don’t return soon, he won’t keep waiting.”

Also, woah! I did not expect my bad weather drabbles to blow up like they did! Does that mean yall want to see more drabbles in the future?

If yall have any ideas for some, I'd love to, at least, try them out! Because I really didn't expect so many people to actually like it. I kept checking my Tumblr and being like "woah 35 notifs???" And then I'd check again and "WAIT, there's 25 more???" So, I'd love to keep doing them. They'd be good to post in-between my ToF schedule!

Hope yall enjoyed this chapter! I'm hoping it still makes sense that the reader can't fully control their body during these memories...I'm not really sure how to convey that tbh.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog

[hxyleswritesthings]

Alpha!Katsuki Headcanons

Author's Note: I'm working on an actual written blurb for these two, but in the meantime, enjoy this snapshot into what their relationship is like!

From here on out, his omega will be affectionately referred to as BB, just as a pet name.

Bakugou is aged up to mid-20s here, and this does contain slightly mature content so read at your own risk.

BB is quirkless!! Sometimes Bakugou teases her for it, stressing that she needs her big, strong, pro Hero alpha to take care of her and keep her protected. He’s also known for telling her to sit her “basic ass” down. 

She doesn’t really mind the teasing, or the lack of a quirk. She used to be self conscious about it growing up, but now she doesn’t see herself as anything less for it. 

She’s a total crybaby, like big fat Deku tears. She cries a lot when she’s stressed, and don’t even get me started on how she can get when her hormones are all out of whack from preheat. 

Cries a LOTTT during sappy romance movies as well.  One time she got so worked up Bakugou had to cut the movie off halfway, despite her protests. 

These two are stupidly in love with each other!!! Not a single person expected Katsuki to be so open and vulnerable as he is with her, but it’s been such a pleasant surprise!! He’s still the hard exterior Katsuki they all know and love, but it’s impossible to miss how much happier and calm he is around his omega. BB can take him from explosive, aggressive, alpha to someone who’s pulling her close and outright purring at her affections within a matter of moments. 

 He’s very protective of his omega but he’ll be damned if he becomes one of those alphas that has to control her every move. This means BB loves to go out with her friends, but he will be dropping her off and picking her up after, as well as triple checking his ringer is on in case she calls for anything. Everyone jokes that he’s a total mother hen, but it’s an arrangement that makes them both the most comfortable. 

Before he had marked her, there was one time she called him because another alpha was making her uncomfortable at the bar. Katsuki was with Kiri and Mina at the time and let’s just say that Mina had to go in to retrieve BB (checking up on her friends to make sure they were safe as well, ofc), while Kiri held Bakugou back so that he wouldn’t march in and make a scene. It led to him causing a scene outside the front door anyways.

He only calmed down once she was safe and in his arms, her face tucked into his scent glands as her previously sour scent turned sweeter as she calmed down.

BB is very shy at first, but completely opens up once she gets comfortable. This means she tends to be quiet around new people and stick to her alpha’s side, but once she trusts someone, she literally doesn’t shut tf up. 

No, seriously. Bakugou introduced her to the squad once they were officially courting. They had dinner at his apartment, and the poor girl barely spoke while everyone sat around the table, eating. A few hours (and drinks) later, she was practically glued to Kiri’s side, talking his fucking ear off. Bakugou quickly learned that the two are very similar, and they’re best friends now who love to make his life hell. 

About Kiri!!! Kiri is not mated yet, but he has been courting an omega for a while and the two are literally meant for each other. They have double dates with Bakugou and his girl all the time and BB and Kiri’s omega are very close!! 

Whenever they’re at a party, or having a night out somewhere, BB is infamous for pulling Bakugou away after a few drinks to blow him. He always teases that he won’t let her next time, but he’s just a man. He’d be crazy to deny his pretty little omega wanting to get on her knees and make her alpha feel good. 

Yes, this did occur at a hero gala one time. They tried their best to play it off but their friends all knew the blush adorning their cheeks was not from the alcohol. 

Before quitting, BB used to work at a coffee shop in between classes. She would also hang out there to do schoolwork. This is how they met each other. Bakugou caught whiff of her scent one day while on patrol with Kiri, and he was immediately hooked. He bought her a refill and a pastry and the poor dude was stumbling over his words trying to introduce himself. 

He was so nervous, hands shaky as he spoke to her. Kiri definitely teased him about it, but clearly it had worked as BB had slipped him her number before the two men left.

She always felt very safe around him, even from the start. He became a safe space for her very early on in their relationship.

On their first date, he took her to get takeout and they ate it sitting on a blanket at a local park and trying to guess the life stories of different strangers around them. 

Their second date he invited her over to his apartment and made her dinner. She showed up in a dress and heels, and couldn’t help but keep staring at his biceps as they bulged underneath his button down he had chosen for the night. He even set the table with flowers and candles. What a romantic!!

Bakugou was absolutely swooning over her!!! They cleaned up together after dinner, giggling like children as they splashed sudsy water on each other. Bakugou poured them both another glass of wine once they were finished, showing her to the balcony where they sat and talked in the cool night air. 

The night mayyyy or may not have ended with Bakugou’s head underneath the poor girl’s dress, thighs shaking as she fell apart on his face. He moaned into her, cleaning her up with his tongue before pulling away, helping her pull her panties back up into place and pressing a few kisses to her lips as he pulled her into his arms on the couch. He drove her home later that night, making sure she was safely inside before taking himself back home. 

They went on a few more dates before he decided to court her, showing up at her place with a new blanket and a sweater of his he had scented, as well as her favorite chocolates as a courting gift. BB accepted immediately, tearing up at the gesture as she pulled him into an embrace. She left him briefly to add the two new items to her nest, breathing in the mix of their scents deeply once she had finished. She quickly returns to Bakugou, instructing him to take his shoes off before pulling him into her bedroom and inviting him into her nest for the very first time. It’s an emotional moment for both of them as he climbs in, making himself comfortable and allowing his omega to scent him before tucking herself into his chest, the both of them practically purring. 

They spent the rest of the day in her nest and Bakugou even called out the next day for some extra time with her.

[mischasbongwater]

farkas x reader

warning: intense sex, vaguely fem-bodied reader but only if you squint

authors note: this is most certainly not my best work, just practice if anything but im still glad i finished it (emphasis on finished) and i wanted to share it and this felt like a good place to do it

(also for context this takes place after his transformation in the crypt that first time)

You slip into Farkas’s room as quickly and quietly as you can, out of worry that one of the other Companions might get suspicious. You carefully close the door, turn around—

—And Farkas is standing at the foot of his bed, in nothing but a loincloth.

“OH!” You yelp, throwing your hands up in front of your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“It’s fine, open your eyes. I don’t care.”

You falter. “Wh- seriously?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Slowly, you lower your hands and look at him. He’s sat down on his bed now, arms folded. Somehow he still looks just as big and intimidating as when he’s wearing armor. You can so clearly see his muscles rippling beneath his olive skin, but you try not to look anywhere other than his face — or arms.

You catch the inquisitive look on his face and snap yourself back to reality. “So,” you begin. “Werewolf.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “It is a gift given only to those in the Circle. Should you want to share the beastblood, you’ll have to prove your honor.”

“Right.” You cannot stop looking at him.

“Truth be told, if you want a more technical history, you should talk to Kodlak or Vilkas. I don’t usually put much thought into it beyond the gift itself. But- are you okay?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You smell different.” He stands up.

“That- is so weird,” you respond, momentarily distracted by bewilderment. “What do I smell like?”

“Normally? Just you. But now…” He steps closer until he’s barely a foot away from you. It feels like his bare chest is looking you straight in the eyes. “It’s different. Stronger. Sweeter.”

You look up at him, eyes wide, feeling something you’ve never quite felt before. Dread and thrill both building up in your stomach, like white-hot balls of metal expanding through your abdomen. Sharp bursts of adrenaline spiking through your body.

“Are you interested in me, new blood?” His deep, gritty voice had a strange new cadence to it, like warm honey pouring into your ears.

You inhale shakily. “I- don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Can I answer it for you?”

You don’t even know if the word “yes” had left your mouth yet before you were in Farkas’s grasp. One hand is gently gripping the back of your neck, and the other is caressing the top of your head, weaving fingers through your hair. His rough, salty lips are pressed against yours, hard. You reach out and place your hands on his hips, closing the gap between you. He quivers under your touch, then melts into it, grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing his tongue into your mouth.

After a few heated moments, he pulls back, much to your disappointment.

“Do you want this?” He asks, his voice sounding much darker now.

You look at him, confused. “Wh-“

“The beast-spirit inside of me. He wants you. Bad.” He fidgets with his hands, showing the first glimpse of true uncertainty and nervousness you’ve ever seen from him. “I don’t know if I can keep being gentle like this. I don’t want to-”

“Farkas.” You take his hands. “I don’t care. I’m yours.”

A lustful spark appears in his eyes. He grabs you by your waist, picks you up with ease, and pins you to his bed, desperately grabbing at your clothes and trying to pull them off.

He seems as stocky and strong as a tree trunk, every part of him laying over you like this. He reaches down and pulls his loincloth off, then lowers himself down, almost completely immobilizing you.

His hands wander up to your face, lazily at first, then grabbing you roughly and once more pushing his lips against yours. His hips begin to thrust slowly against yours, and you feel his hardening cock sliding up and down against your stomach.

“Mmm… you smell so good.” His hands travel across your body, greedily touching every part he can reach. Your own hand begins to drift downward, but he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head.

“You had your chance to lead,” he growls. “It’s my turn now.” He pins up your other hand and buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking and biting, forcing high, breathy moans out of your mouth. His movement slowly grows more desperate, and you feel the same.

“Farkas…” you say pleadingly. He lets out a deep purr and snaps his hips against you in approval. He raises his head above yours. You stare into his eyes, and he stares back, perfectly mirroring the burning passion you feel. His soft raven hair hangs down perfectly around his broad, rugged face. He leans down and whispers into your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin and sending tingles down your back. “I’m going to make you mine.”

Without any more warning than that, he grabs your hips so hard you think he might leave handprints, and he pushes his tip inside of you. You let out a shuddering gasp, your hands shooting up and grabbing onto his biceps for dear life.

He begins to push further into you, his thick shaft throbbing and stretching you out. The pain felt so good. A keening moan escapes from your mouth. Farkas closes his eyes, and you can see the muscles feathering along his tightly-clenched jaw as he sinks deeper and deeper into you.

“Farkas,” you breathe out. “Farkas-” you yelp as he forcefully thrusts his full length into you. “Y-you’re so big…” you manage to stammer out. “Fu-uuck. Please, Farkas.”

He opens his eyes and smirks. He smirks at you.

“Please what, darling?”

“Fuck me,” you heave desperately, your nails digging into his skin. “Fuck me, Farkas, please, I-”

You’re cut off by his strong, meaty hand pressing over your mouth, covering half your face. He gives a firm but gentle squeeze. “Sshhh, shh-shh.” He purrs. “Can’t have you waking up the others.” He starts slowly thrusting again. “Or is that what you want? Does the new blood want all of Jorrvaskr to hear them whining like a dog?”

You can do nothing but squeeze your eyes shut, your whole body pulsating with the feeling of him inside of you. That white-hot feeling is back, even more intensely now, like a sun planted in your stomach.

“That’s right,” he groans, starting to speed up. “Good.” He squeezes your face tighter, his eyes closing again and his head tilting back in pleasure. His movements grow almost animalistic, shoving himself further and further inside of you over and over. Your body tenses up, vibrating with heat and ecstasy, his cock filling you up so deep you think you might pass out. Your moans are uncontrollable and muffled by his hand, while your own are nearly drawing blood from their death grip on his arms. He keeps pounding into you, grunting and moaning huskily, holding you solidly in place. Your hips snap back up in rhythm with his, your body twitching from the pleasure and strain. If not for him muzzling you, you would be crying out, screaming his name, moaning and keening in primal euphoria.

The ball in your stomach expands like molten metal, spreading through your body until it feels as if Farkas has filled every last inch of you. It builds and builds and builds-

Until he stops, hilt-deep inside of you. You squirm and cry out, frantic with lust and just on the edge of overstimulation from his huge cock. He hums smugly at your struggle, his face inches away from yours. “Look at you. Such a desperate little thing. You like being used like this?”

You nod, aggressively and pathetically. Farkas chuckles, and the deep, raspy sound of his subtle laughter is almost enough to send you over the edge right there. He shifts, taking his other hand and grasping both sides of your face, pushing his thumbs into your mouth.

“Stay quiet,” he growls, before continuing his merciless thrusts at the same pace he left off at. Without even meaning to, you clamp down on his thumbs between your teeth, letting out a flood of sharp, cut-off moans as he fucks you with reckless abandon. You almost can’t stand the speed and girth hammering into you, sending you into a state of complete, mindless hunger.

Through your feral haze, you see his bottom lip caught under his teeth, his eyes tightly closed, and his eyebrows knitted together. Then his mouth hangs open, and a small whimper escapes into the air.

The molten ball inside of you explodes, coating his length and squirting onto his thighs and stomach. You lay completely silent, convulsing and arching beneath him, consumed with bliss. You scratch helplessly at his shoulders, wordlessly begging, and Farkas complies, thrusting more sensually yet somehow rougher into you now. He covers your mouth again, and you allow the torrent of wild moans to erupt from within you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, every vein and ridge on his cock hitting you in all the right places.

Just when you think you might finally go unconscious, he pulls out and a thick ribbon of cum streams out onto your stomach. He looks to be reared back like a horse, holding tight onto your hips to keep from falling, head swung back as he shudders through his own orgasm.

Panting, he collapses onto you, practically forcing the air out of your lungs with his weight. You wrestle your arms out from under him and wrap them around his torso — or at least, as far around as they can reach.

“Fuck,” Farkas whispers hoarsely, enveloping you in his arms now and turning you both to your sides. You make a noise of agreement muffled by his chest.

“Are- are you gonna stay here?” He asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice. You make another noise, this one of more serene agreement. He exhales deeply and goes limp, pulling you closer to him. You were both far too hot and sweaty for his blankets, but not for your own skin against the other’s. Filled with contentment and… other stuff… you relish in his scent and the feeling of his body pressed against yours. You catch a glimpse of the moon from outside his window.

Who cares if he’s a werewolf, you think to yourself. Nothing could make me rethink this.

[itadores]

ringing in the new year

note: i missed him sooo bad <3 happy new year’s eve or happy new year’s to all of you!

pairings: gojo satoru x gn!reader, ieiri shoko & gn!reader

word count: 1.6k

tags: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, alcohol intoxication, reader is bold when they drink, reader is so down bad for gojo, new year’s eve kisses!

trying to keep up with nanami and ieiri’s drinking is not one of your brightest ideas. given that they’re both heavyweights and you are decidedly not a heavyweight, you tapped out pretty early, waving your metaphorical white flag. you switched out the strong alcoholic drinks that you all were consuming in favor of something lighter and sweeter. something that wouldn't get you shit-faced.

you weren't drunk, but you were surely tipsy by now.

you know this because you don't try and conceal the way you're eyeing gojo satoru.

"you're staring," ieiri states as she takes another sip of her drink.

"am i?" you reply, your mind far away from the conversation with one of your dearest friends. the vision of gojo dressed in something other than his modified uniform is something for you to savor. his button-down shirt is a softer blue than his eyes, and his dark dress pants are incredibly form-fitting.

his ass looks good in them, your mind supplies.

"yes. you're making it painfully obvious too."

"oh." regretfully, you tear your gaze away from gojo and turn your attention to ieiri. "really?"

you're met with an unamused look.

"yes. really."

"he looks good,” you say to explain your blatant staring. the comment flows from you naturally, the alcohol to blame for the ease of the words coming out of your mouth.

"he looks the same as he usually does," ieiri sighs. her fingers tap against the glass of her drink. you can tell she wants a smoke right about now. maybe, she’ll get one in before the new year begins. she probably will.

“he usually looks good.”

ieiri rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath before taking a larger sip of her drink.

“why don’t you go tell him that instead of telling me? didn’t you say you would do something about your feelings for him before the year ended?” ieiri looks down at the watch on her wrist. “you have about fifteen minutes.”

you may be more intoxicated than you thought because ieiri’s words embolden you, stirring you to action.

“okay, i will.”

before ieiri can stop you and tell you she wasn’t being serious, you’re gone from her side. she sighs. she really needs that smoke now.

despite your intoxicated state, you politely greet people you recognize, saying your hellos and exchanging happy new year eve’s as you cross the room. you keep the conversation to a minimum, attention zeroed in on your mission.

it doesn’t take long for you to reach the area of the room where gojo is located. there are a few people milling around him, trying to engage him in conversation. he looks painfully bored surrounded by them.

you approach nearer, and gojo’s expression changes. he straightens his back, looking more alert than he did a second ago. your traitorous heart dares to hope that you’re the cause of his change in demeanor.

you weave through the people near gojo, apologizing as you go. they give you curt replies, obviously disgruntled that you’re interrupting, but in the state you are, you don’t pay them much mind. your focus remains on gojo satoru, who now stands right in front of you.

if you thought gojo looked good from afar, he’s even more beautiful up close. he’s traded his usual black blindfold for a pair of dark sunglasses, allowing you a better view of his crystalline eyes, eyes that are solely focused on you. you swallow, wetting your lips. the alcohol thrumming in your veins prevents nerves from getting to you too much.

“happy new year’s eve, gojo. sorry for interrupting, but do you mind if i pull you away for a moment?”

gojo returns the greeting as an amused smile dances across his lips.

he tilts his head and motions with the drink in his hand. “lead the way.”

your cheeks, warm with alcohol, heat up for a completely different reason.

“follow me then.”

gojo sets down his drink down on the nearest surface and says his goodbyes to the people who were attempting to converse with him before abruptly leaving and following your lead. it makes you a little giddy that he parts ways from them so easily at your prompting.

you’re not exactly sure where you’re going, unfamiliar with the layout of this floor, but your feet bring you to the nearest open balcony, close enough to still hear the music and chattering of the party but far enough to have a private conversation.

although frigid, the fresh air is refreshing, acting as a balm for your warm over-heated skin. you lean forward against the balcony railing, taking a deep breath and making a sound of contentment as you exhale.

you turn around, away from the railing, and your breath is nearly stolen from you as you look at gojo. he’s leaning against the entrance to the balcony, his silhouette illuminated by the lights from within. he’s beautiful. it’s not the first time the thought has crossed your mind, and it surely will not be the last.

now that gojo sees that he has your attention, he comes closer, closing the distance between you and him in just a few short strides.

he’s close enough that you can smell his expensive cologne.

“what did you drag me out here for?” gojo tilts his head, his eyes visible over the tops of his sunglasses. they nearly glow in the low light.

his question isn’t accusatory, rather his words are colored with only unbridled curiosity.

you shrug. “i wanted to talk to you.”

he laughs, the sound more befitting of a child than a grown man. even if gojo is laughing at your expense, you’re still mesmerized by the sound he makes and the way his neck curves, throat bared, as he tosses his head back slightly. a cheeky grin stretches across gojo’s face as his laughter finally dies down. “wanted to talk about what exactly?”

“i wanted,” you pause, recalling why you approached gojo and dragged him away from the party in the first place. your throat is dry as you swallow, liquid courage spurring you to get the words that are heavy on your tongue out. you straighten out your back and force yourself to meet gojo’s expectant gaze. “i wanted to tell you that you clean up nicely.”

gojo doesn’t so much as flinch upon hearing you say that. it’s almost as if he already knew, was already expecting you to tell him as much. truthfully, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“oh really?” gojo grin widens. he takes a step closer to you, and your heart flutters like a hummingbird in your chest at the lack of distance between you now. he leans in, forgoing any sort of personal space, his face so near to your own that you can feel his exhales against your skin. “is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“no.” your honesty catches you off guard, but there’s no going back now. the alcohol in your system has faded to a low thrum in your veins, and you blame it for what you say next. “i wanted to also ask if i could kiss you.”

“what’s stopping you?”

your heart lurches.

he…he didn’t turn you down or spurn you away.

you’re dreaming, you think. this is all a dream, and you’re going to wake up sooner than later and realize that you dreamt of gojo again. you dig your nails into your palms, and the faint pinpricks of pain make your eyes widen because this is not a dream. you are awake and this is real and gojo satoru has essentially just given you his permission to kiss him.

in the distance, you can hear the beginning of the countdown for the new year. you’re running out of time.

“i want to hear you say it.” you wince when your statement sounds more like a plead.

gojo laughs again, but it’s softer this time. not quiet as loud and boisterous as it once was. it’s a beautiful sound, and you hope that you’ll have a chance to hear it again.

“so pushy,” gojo teases.

you can feel the body warmth radiating off of him as his hands move from his side to hover over the curve of your waist, only settling into place when you lean into him. you place your hands on the tops of gojo’s shoulders, his button-down shirt wrinkling beneath the weight of your palms. you’re filled with nervous anticipation, you can hardly believe this is happening. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when gojo’s lips abruptly brush against the shell of your ear.

“go ahead and kiss me.”

just as you close the distance between you and gojo, you can hear the room attached to the balcony erupt in cheer. it all sounds so distant though when all of your senses are flooded with gojo, gojo, gojo. his lips are soft and glossy, and you easily think you could get addicted to kissing him. one of your hands slides up from his shoulders to grip the back of his neck, fingers dragging through his undercut. a sound forms in the back of gojo’s throat and you greedily swallow it down. you’d devour him whole if you could, but the need to breathe forces you to separate.

your chest heaves in exertion, and you’re sure that there is a dazed look in your eyes. the air escapes your lungs once more when you see gojo’s lips shiny with a mix of gloss and spit, swollen and kiss-bitten. all from your doing.

“not bad,” gojo says.

it’s your turn to laugh this time. the sound is airy and breathless and disbelieving. you reach a hand around the back of gojo’s head again, leaning in once more.

“happy new year’s gojo,” you murmur, soft and sweet, and you realize that you are terribly in love with gojo satoru before you kiss him once more.

[cherubispunk]

UP IN YOUR ARMS (CHAPTER ONE) -Noir!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: The Canary Club. Illicit. Underground. Dangerous too. But nowhere near as dangerous the affair you and Joel start there.

a note from Lucy: chapter one! I'm digging my own grave here. thats all im saying. i promise it is focused on joel and the reader later in the chapter. im just setting the scene for differnt relationships in the series.

playlist

wc: 6969 (haha lol) Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! 1940s!au, no outbreak, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his 40s), smut. p in v sex, oral - f receiving, oral through panties, choking, groping, sexism, mentions of racism, touch starved joel, me being back on my bullshit, drinking, ,smoking, throwing fists because men are stoopid and cant talk things out, cheating on the readers part, but joel knows this and still fucks her like the horny bastad he is. *sigh*, use of pet names such as doll, cursing, ww2 references, an unhealthy relationship between reader and joel, mentions of blood, let me know if ive missed any warning out that should be tagged. 6969 words of unedited bullshit because im piss drunk and cant for the life of me edit.

series m.list | m.list

The jazz band was one of the finest groups in the city. ‘Only the finest for The Canary Club’, as Johnny had put it. 

Johnny Boy Finnick. 

Now he was a man. Played sports in college, muscular, strong arms that pinned you to the wall or mattress or table. Hands that shuffled playing cards with ease and had you screaming far after the night was over. Deep blue eyes and blonde hair that never fell out of place from its slicked back style. Not even after he had crushed someone's jaw under the weight of his pummeling, bloodlusting fist.  

Johnny made a name for himself bootlegging liquor, too young to fight in the first world war. Took over as The Boss of Boston. It’s how he got his name. Johnny Boy. Fresh faced but the heart of a ragged old man. Lost it all after the second world war, gained it back not long after. A killer with a bone deep yearning for blood, money, violence, and you. 

He sat in his pressed suit, legs parted as he leaned over to display his full flush to the table, flashing a killer smile when he collected the money off his right hand man and three more of his boys. You smiled from the bar, beads of your dress twinkling in the low light of the speakeasy, ready to waltz over with another old fashioned and drape yourself in his lap.

“Thanks, Henry.” You smiled at your oldest friend, taking the drink he had placed down in front of you on the bar. Henry was your age, 25. A boy from Hartford, Connecticut, grew up in Kansas, then moved here looking for work in a big city. Honest, hardworking. Sweeter than cherry pie. And his little brother Sam was just the cutest pip you'd ever seen. 

“No problem, Doll.” He teased, which deserved a roll of the eyes from you. 

“How many times have I asked you not to call me that?”

“This would make it…” he glanced up for a second, as if calculating within his mind, “one too many times to count.”

“Funny.” You gave him a quick bitter smile. All in good fun, clearly, for he took no offence. He just shot you a smile, running a clean rag over the bartop, collecting two glasses and wiping the rings of condensation they left upon maplewood. 

“Your man looks thirsty. Might wanna take him his drink now. Before he gets the wrong idea about me talking to ya.” You sighed, craning your head slightly to look back at Johnny who scanned the place with a scowl. It made your skin crawl the thought of his temper snapping again. Despite it, you left Henry with a playful wink his way before swanning back over, placing Johnny’s drink in front of him and a vermillon kiss to his cheek. 

Johnny sneered at the affection, wiping your lipstick stain from his cheek. All the confidence you had fell to the floor and shattered miserably. Liquid courage sloshed on the cured wood floor.

“Fuck’s sake, Doll. What you do that for?” He demanded of you, the disgust in his cruel cerulean eyes sending a chilling, agonising jolt down your spine. 

“Sorry, Johnny.” You shied away, folded your hands together, eyes on the floor.

“Ain't you gotta powder your nose or something? Go on. Piss off.” 

He was right. You’d be on soon. Drenched in the spotlight. Under the scrutinising, side cramping glare of everyone's eye. You could do with the quiet. So you shuffled off to your dressing room without a word more, holding back tears with your breath. 

In the mirror, you mourned the girl you were. Mourned the life you had before it all turned upside down. Mourned the man you fell in love with. And the monster you had no choice but to stay with. 

—

Joel was fuming. If you touched his skin you'd reel back with a scorched yelp because his blood ran hot, fast and thick under his flesh. Trust Tommy to catch himself in the web of underground crime. Always a joiner. Always a deserter too when things got heated. And who was left to untangle him from its intricate, venom snared weave? Joel ‘Gubbins’ Miller. He might as well have ‘mother to my brother’ branded on his forehead. Because that's what he was now. 

The war ended four years ago and ever since Tommy had been searching for his purpose. Preached about it round the dinner table in their grimy, mildew inhabited apartment like a preacher would his sermon. And every time it set Joel’s teeth on edge. Because he knew what came after the downfall. The pickup. 

Now, however, Joel was determined to nip this lunacy in the bud. Tear it up from the soil by the new roots. 

The Canary Club was one of the few remaining speakeasies around in Boston. To a cop it was practically a ghost of an establishment. Might as well not be there. But to a man like Joel, whose brother never stopped babbling on about the next best thing he had cooking for himself, it was as easy as pie.  

A shroud of cloud hung just above Boston’s looming buildings, teaming with the early moon to create a murky gloom over the dim city’s sin. It seemed to fill the hollow, smoggy air as they cast dark, taut shadows over the slick, grimy roads. The sky threatened rain for the third day in a row. A place that reeked of underground crime, drug rings and watered down, once bootlegged alcohol, laced with what one can only assume to be illegal too. All of that was washed down with the constant sour smell of new rain upon dirty tarmac. A city plagued and tarnished by its own rejects.The promise of work bought them in. But the lifestyle spat them back out. Chewed up and ruined by their own humanising hope.

He and his brother came in search of work. They were getting nowhere down south in Texas. On the dole and barely able to afford a loaf of bread between the two of them. Even their own mother hardly recognised her boys after the war. Said they were empty shells of men. Husks of the boys she raised. Killers. 

The woman was a pacifist at heart. And it was a trait that Joel not only saw as weak, but typical of women. Or that's what his father had socialised him into thinking. He didn't know where his father’s ideals ended and his started. As the days went by he saw more of the violence his father harboured in himself. Grimaced at the lug in the looking glass. 

Joel was no pacifist. But he didn't storm through the doors either. No gun was in hand ready to send people screaming bloody murder. That was stupid. A mistake that he knew could wind him up on the concrete in the flooded gulley with a bullet in his head where blood and water could finally mix. Instead he stole in quietly in the ambience of playing cards and a Jazz band, ordered himself a drink, and sat at the far corner of the bar where it was dimly lit. Just enough for him to see his drink and the room, but his face still remained shadowed. 

While he sipped in ponder, he took the chance to people watch. Scan the patrons for any uncanny resemblance of dear Tommy. But nothing. He seemed distracted by the careful and steady hand that polished glass after glass, though each of them were spotless before touching the rag. 

A pointless task. Some may say sisyphean. But the boy doing so knew when eyes were on him. It was a very rare occurrence if not related to his race. People of any darker colour were ogled often in these parts despite it being more accepted within the north of America. There was still divide and segregation. However, this new patron wasn't looking for Henry’s skin colour, rather contemplating how on earth a boy such as him had ended up in such a place. What connection he had to the gang. Was he like Tommy? Roped in at the side of the side of the road and choking on his remaining pride. Or in a sticky financial situation? All these questions seemed to circle like the rag in the crystal glass Henry held. 

“What’s your name, kid?” Joel asked him with an ex-smoker's voice, brow dark in the shadow. The boy looked up, eyes youthful, but they'd seen things no man should have to. 

“Henry.” He said after a beat, quick to refill Joel���s glass when it was empty besides a drop circled thin and amber in the bottom. “Yours?” Joel lifted his head, taking a sip before placing his glass back on the bartop in furrowed brow contemplation. 

“Joel.” He leaned forward on his forearms, haunched over the bar, before looking around again. “Whatcha doin’ here, Henry?” 

Henry laughed slightly, looking down at his feet before back in Joel's eyes. And what he was met with was the hollow ache of a man scarred by war. Henry’s face fell flat. 

“Working.” 

“No…I mean in Boston.”

Henry cleared his throat at the sudden, and even brash way Joel approached his question. So much that it took him a second to frown and then reply. 

“Came from Kansas. Hard for a black kid to find honest work there. Especially with a family to look out for.” His words were solemn and reflected a truth Joel knew all too well growing up down south. Even if he never lived it in his own white skin.

“You look a little young to have a kid.” 

“I don’t. I got a brother.” Joel nodded as he listened, waiting for him to go on. Which he did after a beat of silence. “Bright kid. Bright future too. He’s deaf though. Got a lot stacked against him in this world. Mom can't bring in enough to fund education for ‘im. So I stepped up.”

“No Daddy?” Joel asked and Henry shook his head. “How’d you end up here then?”

“A girl.” The look Joel gave Henry was sceptical. But the young boy was soon to put a stop to it all. “Not a girlfriend. Just a girl. We grew up in the same building. She moved up north for a life and I followed a few months later. She met a guy. A wealthy guy. And she wrote to me often of how swell Boston had been for her.”

Joel wasn't the questioning type. Neither one to beat around the bush. But Henry intrigued him. Reminded him a lot of Sarah. The challenge she had faced with the colour of her skin that he, as a white man, would never understand. He felt a guilt about it every day that flared up in the dark of night before his eyes closed for restless and futile sleep. “And this guy?”

“Him.” Henry nodded subtly over to the table of men playing cards. Poker. A game Joel knew well in the frontline and in Egypt where he fought. Him and a few others often huddled together in their own game. Nothing but the last pair of intact socks to bet on, or a single cigarette to get them through the night. Joel quit smoking the moment he got back. Knew it was something that made him unpredictable and jittery in the best of situations. “Johnny Boy Finnick. A big name in these parts.” 

Joel followed Henry’s gaze, but his attention was snagged by the unmistakable head of dark curled hair facing away from him. He knew his brother anywhere and his blood began to boil as he threw back his second drink and slammed the empty glass on the bartop. 

“Hey, man-” Henry tried, shoulders straining as he stood to attention. Joel didn't pay him any mind. Merely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before his bar stool sharied upon the varnished wood floor. He cared not for the noise. Only the feeling he would get once his closed fist met the bone on the bridge of Tommy’s nose. 

Trumpets flailed to a stop and drums failed mid blow. The room fell silent after a chorus of gasps. 

He loved his brother. Deeply. So much it caused a chasm of a rib cracking hole in his chest every time Tommy slipped up. But he saw red now it all caught up behind his lids that blinked once. That split second of not seeing and before he had a chance to second guess, he was gripping the back of tommy;s collar and wrenching him up to his feet to deliver a shiner to the face. 

Tommy staggered back, and everyone at his table stood up with the intention to harm. Yet no one but the brawling brothers fought. As he gained his footing again, he also gained his senses, recognising Joel anywhere. 

“Joel, what the fu-” He was hardly able to finish before another shooting pain split his bottom lip open and Tommy’s mouth was filled with the taste of his own bitter blood. Blood he and Joel shared and were now shedding in a futile fight of nothing but testosterone. That was enough to send the same foul blow to his kin. Joel winced, knowing the crescent of a bruise that would bloom on his cheekbone overnight. One of Tommy’s many rings sliced his skin. He felt warmth in crimson dribble from a fresh flesh wound. 

“Hey!” One loud and bellowing voice that had the power to command a whole unit of men boomed out before neither Joel or Tommy had the chance to throw another fist. It was for the better. Any more and Joel’s knuckles would have bruised purple. A colour of shame. 

It was Johnny. And his face was stoic as he stared each brother down with a burning gaze that had even Joel’s hairs stood on end at the nape of his neck. Like an army stood to attention before the first charge. Except he didn't move. Joel knew now where he stood in the food chain of this speakeasy. And it was right at the very bottom. “You!” He pointed at Tommy. Go clean yourself up.” And Tommy went as pale as a funeral sheet before nodding meekly. His face melted from shock to shame in the blink of Joel’s very eye before he grumbled something under his breath and passed Joel with a sharp clip to his shoulder. 

It's his turn now. 

At this point you'd come out to see what the commotion was for. The walls, while thick upstairs in the printer's press, were thin in the basement. And you;d heard silence and the spit of a man as his blood splattered with spit on the floor in the doorway. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doin throwin’ fists in my god damned club for?!” He roared. And Joel had to take the duration of both inhale and exhale to get his lips and tongue to work. But the scowl on his face said it all. “Huh?!” Jonny’s nostrils flared like a spanish thoroughbred bulls’. 

“That’s my brother you got workin’ for ya. I ain't havin’ him in some shady drug ring you got goin in. I aint!” 

Jonnly was no stupid man. Hr was smart. Quick minded and knew a man with balls. But Joel also knew very little. So this one time, he took the approach of calmness, and used his usual lying tongue for truth. Any other time it would she forked like Lucifer's serpent form. But now he was a man of coolness. “Right.” Johnny nodded at him, his tone was one that could soothe a ravenous bear. But with an edge as sharp as a knife. So sharp it could slice skin in one swift swoop. “Sit down.” He commanded calmly. “Let’s get you a drink.” 

With a wave of his hand a cha was pulled out. Two heavy handed brutes shoving Joel down into a chair, an old fashioned presented to him by Henry in front of him on the maplewood table. Then Johnny addressed the room gently. Set its patrons at ease. The music played its jazzy, jolly tune once more. People spoke again.And Johnny took his seat opposite Joel. 

“Look here…” The gangster waited for Joel to give him his name. Which he did. “Joel, I appreciate a strong swing as much as the next guy. But I don't appreciate it in my establishment.” Joel nodded in understanding. His temper ashamed him. How it ran hot under his skin. Fizzled white when provoked until he saw red in rage and swung. Never blindly though. He wasn't a loose cannon like the  broken soldier stereotype enforced. Just a fractured man. 

“You’re a soldier aint ya?” “Was.” Joel said gruffly. Curtly and he brewed a stare across from Johnny.

“Oh, nah.” Johnny shook his head, swirling his drink in the crystal glass, “Once a brother in arms, always a brother in arms. The war sticks with ya. You’re a soldier.” “Fine. Yeah, I'm a soldier.” 

“I know the war. I served like you. Left a boy and came back a shell of a man. Now look at me.” Joel took a moment to calculate his motive here. Johnny’s arms stretched wide with a smirk of pure pride as he gestured to the heart of his Boston crime empire. “I got money. I got birds.” He held up his glass to Joel, “I got liquor.” then leaned forward and spoke in a grave tone, "What you got?” 

Joel swallowed harshly, unable to answer because he had nothing in reality. 

“You got a job?” He shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “No.”

“Figured. Hard finding work when all the women are competent enough to do it themselves. Fight for your country. End up on the streets. You don't die a hero like you thought you would. No one knows your name.” He scoffed, holding fingers up in air quotes around competent. It left a bitter taste of disgust in Joel’s mouth as the father of a daughter. Curled the edges of his tongue distastefully. Made him kiss his teeth to hold back the insult. “Well, people know my name.” Johnny paused again, the air grew thick between them and smouldered on their shoulders. He was squinting at Joel opposite him, sizing him up. Joel was rugged. A strong build and most likely a strong character too. Something Johnny could always do with having in abundance. And so when the devil's own smirk curled at his lip, Joel felt a question brewing at the very tip of his tongue. One that would change his life for better or worse. Regardless of it he declined or accepted. “And they could know yours too.”

Joel didn't want to admit it for the sake of his crumbling pride, but the man had it all. Even a good five years his junior, the man made a living for himself. Picked himself up from the dirt and used bloodshed and bodies for the foundations. 

“I could use a guy like you–”

“No.” Joel put his offer down flat before it had the chance to meet the air. 

“Hear me out.” He said calmly, and held up a hand, “A roof over your head. A steady income. A little extra dough in ya pocket?” Johnny rubbed his thumb and index finger together in the older man's face. An action to which Joel’s nostrils flared. It was embarrassing to even mull over. “Come on,” Johnny smirked. “Give it a go.” 

The southerner’s lips pursed, as if he was thinking it over. Which he was. But to what lengths would he go? Sure, Joel was conditioned in a short few months to kill. He was good at it. Mowed down men on the frontline like clockwork. And his trigger finger twitched at the thought of holding that power once more. But that didn't mean he was a man without morals. The men’s blood he;d coat his hands in had families. They were someone's son. Probably someone's husband or father. Joel knew the hollow ache loss left. The imprint of a shadow it left. The chasm ripped in your chest. Loss felt like an agonising, deep, helpless pit. But here was Johnny, throwing him a rope 

“You know, you’re right. This ain't the time to talk this over.” Johnny held his hands up and leaned back in his seat before they clapped back in his lap. Now you were at Johnny’s side once more. But the figure of Joel in his chair had something jumping in your bones. Tongue curling to taste his very words.  “Dollface here will patch you up.” 

You raised a brow, giving the two of them a dirty look. “Excuse me? Do I look like a nurse?” You shut up when Johnny glared. Swallowed your pride, and sighed inwardly. You both hated and loved the power he held over you. As much as you despised it at times, Johnny had your being wrapped around his finger like a puppeteer holds his strings. And tightly. You felt his tug at the strain in your limbs. 

“And you come back here tomorrow. We’ll talk in my office over a drink and a cigar. A good fucking drink.” 

—

Joel swallowed harshly when he saw you. Eyes, wide and decorated by dark mascara lashes, white liner on lower waterlines, face of a doll like Johnny’s nickname for you suggested. The red lipstick you had re-applied moments prior was glossy, inviting him to stumble over velvet words he would hear you speak. Lean closer so the blood red could graze the shell of his ear while you would whisper a dirty joke at him. 

He followed as you led him down a corridor off to the other side of the bar. Your dress seemed fit for hypnotising him into your bidding. Surely you were a siren who climbed the strats of a pier of the east coast and arrived here. Something about the beauty you wielded was not the everyday sort. It was the type you see women bend over backwards to achieve even a glimmer of for their man who came back after work. He could see himself now. Loosening his tie, hanging up his coat and hat. Leaving his briefcase and sanity at the door to see you in a pinafore and pin curls. Pretty gingham dress. He’d sit at the table and either be presented by you or a meal for his satiation. He’d prefer to devour the sweetness between your legs. 

Your hand in front of his face had his attention now. Fingers snapping. Nails manicured and painted the same shade as your lipstick. 

“Hey, you listening?” You asked, face set into displeasure. Joel straightened as he cleared his throat.

“What?” His tone was gruff and he mirrored your expression to you. His southern accent catching you off guard, but is intriguing. 

“I said sit down.” 

Joel looked over at the chair set at a vanity mirror you gestured to with an extended arm. The second time he had been asked to be seated. The second time he obeyed. 

You took your time to wet a washcloth in the small basin in the corner with warm water. Took the bottle of whiskey you stashed last week from the bottom of a rickety chest of drawers. Joel watched you in the mirror, eyes narrowed a fraction to make sure you were of no threat to him. He knew he could take you easily. In more ways than one. The power imbalance had his length twitching in his trousers. 

Your hands weren't gentle as you sat on the vanity between his legs. You took his stubbled chin in your grasp and jerked his head up into the light, tilting it to take a closer look at the gash. 

“Stay still.” You said curtly, holding the rag to the opening of the bottle and wetting it. You then pressed it over the pad of your finger. The initial touch made his teeth bare at you and a hiss to escape his mouth. His large wrist enclosing around yours to make you stop. “I said,” And you yanked your wrist from his hold, “stay still.” 

He did as he was told again. Silence setting his between the odd hiss from him and twitch of muscle under weathered skin. The crows feet at the side of his eyes were old. He clearly had lost his smile to something in the past. But you didn't ask, only wondered as you wiped the dried blood clean from his wound. “Fuckin grown man and you cant take a little sting of a cut.” You mumbled under your breath to yourself in amusement. Followed by a small huff of dry laugh.

“Maybe if you weren't digging your fingers into a fresh bruise I wouldn’t be wincin’.” You shot him a look and let go.

“All done.” And you held up your hands for good measure. 

“What are you doing here anyway?” You asked, tossing the rag aside and crossing your arms. He reached for the whiskey and took a large gulp, pursing his lips at the slow burn in the back of his throat. 

“None of your business.” 

“What’s your name?”

“You know my name.” He stated lowly. He was right. But you found a sick satisfaction in having any man you liked bend to your will. Answer any question you so pleased to hear the answer to. 

His bones groaned as he stood up from the chair. Your coat draped over the back of it fell to the floor and you swiftly got up to swipe it from the floor and hand it on the hook on the back of the door before pressing your back to it and facing him. Blocking his exit.  “Move.”

“Tell me your name.” You crossed your arms, jutting your chin up at him. 

“Don’t make me move you, princess.”

“Tell me your name.” 

Joel bit his tongue, the vein in his neck starting to pulse visibly under his skin that once again went hot. 

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because I’m nosy.” You smiled, sarcastic and saccharine. “And i want to know the name i’ll be moaning tonight as i touch myself under the covers.” 

“Fuckin-” His jaw ticked, nostrils flared in his disdain. You kept your smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a small guttural noise from the back of his throat. A headache was starting to coil behind the strain of his eyes. “Joel.” And he looked back up at you. It still wasn't enough “Miller.” Your smile was genuine this time, just as sweet. You uncrossed your arms, standing up straight from the door to hold out your hand and give him your name in return. He rolled his eyes, reaching for the handle and swerving you. He pulled the door but you used your body weight to slam it shut with your back again. A loud slam and a creak of protest from its hinges.

“Where are you from, Joel?” 

“Is this a game to you, girl?” Joel growled. 

“Yes.” The smile you had was sly. Foxy. A  single finger ran down his chest and dared to slip just under his shirt’s collar. “I like games.”

“You don't wanna do that.” He warned, dark eyes burning you up inside from your very core. It was the look of a man’s lust that had been left untouched, unloved for quite some time now. It strained at his morality. But who were you to give up the warning and keen hand of a man who so desperately needed a release to the coiling tension of his shoulders. You saw it. Felt it in the rhythmic yet chaotic hammer of his heart against his ribs. As if it were trying with all its might not to break his own bones clean in two and lurch from its enclosure of flesh and bone. 

“And why not?” This was a devils game of chess. Careful calculated words from loose tongues and taking each other's moves in as you exhaled a counter. And oy had him three moves from checkmate. His king weak in defence, your advances stronger  by each word that fell into his eras from your red painted, enticing lips. He could feel his limbs being string up for you to pull at like a puppeteer in an advanced level of her craft. But he was no kind man. His words were even less forgiving than his disposition. 

“Because I aint a kind man. Haven't been for a long while. And I know types of things a man like me would wanna do to a pretty girl like you.” 

“I doubt it would be anything new.” You cooed, watching your finger as it traced a line lower over his buttons,  stopping at the top of his belt buckle and just shy of teasing at the growing bulge in his trousers. 

The tension between you was thicker than molasses. And it seeped through the cracks of his better judgement to the part of him that hungered for touch. That was ravenous for a single one of your fingers. 

“I don't think Johnny would like that.” 

“And I didnt like the way he spoke to me earlier.” You pouted. The way a child would when dined a sweet treat before dinnertime. 

“That aint a good reason to start an affair with me. Because when i get my grubby hands on ya there ain't no going back, doll.” 

His words were enticing you more. To have a man obsessing over your body. Your curves. Your voice singing his name as he fucked you dirtier than anyone into anything. Joel was that man now. He knew it in the very marrow of your bones that you were trouble. His new little minx. So it was no surprise when his lips crushed yours under the full weight of his sexual frustration. 

It was needy. Heated. A clashing of tongues and teeth as he pressed you with his entire simmering being into the wood of the door. His bulge grinding desperately into your thich that parted his legs. 

His tongue swiped your lower lip before drawing it back between his teeth for him to suckle on until it tingled deliciously. He was jealous with his touches. Groping your hips as the sating of your dress that crumpled to the floor. It revealed sweet sweet skin. Skin Joel wasted no time in delving in for the first damning lick. A pleasure to every sense. Sight, taste, touch, smell, sound. 

Heavy breaths were exhaled into the dewy skin of your clavicle, tongue languidly sliding over the high points of your collarbones and enclosing in a sharp suck over the skin just above your right breast. It sent a chorus of heavenly sinful, light and airy monas from your mouth and floated into his ears. His lips were chapped and weathered in contrast to the silk smooth of your skin. It was delightful. 

He went lower, got to his knees as he drank up the sense of a woman's skin for the first time in years. This was the taste of true damnation. He was past the opening of hell's gates and somehow found heaven in the parting of your thighs down the newly trodden path of your navel. 

He pressed his open mouth to your clothed cunt, tasted the seeping slick you gave him on his tongue and gluttonously inhaled your musk right at the apex of your thighs. Your fingers tangled into the curls of his messy, wind wrecked hair. Keening your hips up to press into the curve of his aquiline nose, and riding the burning in the pit of your belly starting to grow. Your head fell back against the door. Your mouth unhinged and letting out moan after sigh after mewl of his name. His face buried between the meat of your thighs as his hands gripped your asscheeks and spread them so he could push his face deeper between your folds. Your underwear drenched and ruined from your wetness and his spit while he tongued your hole through the flimsy lace. 

You pulled him back, smirked at the wreck he was with his lips sticky and shiny in the light of your dressing room. To then pull him up to your lips so you could curl your tongue into his mouth and taste yourself on him. It’s where the taste belonged. Among notes of whiskey and chewing tobacco and drugstore gum. 

His large hands pawed at your hips once more, listing you so your legs could wrap obediently round his waist. That's how it worked now. He wanted, you gave. And willingly like the sounds that fell into his motu like sweet, freshly harvested honey. Ut had the feel of money. Powerful and green like spring leaves. But with the warning of rotting when summer meets its tragic and fatal end. It was like trying to cross a canyon with a broken limb. Near impossible. The last sip of a drink that would ensure drunken and slurred movements. It took even the nest of a man his entirety to deny you, But deep down, Joel was a weak man. Strong in body, maybe mind too. But weak in soul. And he gave in with the cashing of your back against the vanity mirror. 

He had his faults. He knew that. And you did too. It had you wondering how a man like Joel loves. Did he change for his chosen lover? Or was he just as rough a callus as he was with everyone else. Would he destroy and ache and leave you wondering when your body would be at his whim next and how he would bend it to his will. Or would he let you lean into his embrace as he kissed down the column of your throat to the holy entitled epiphany between your thighs. The glisten of your hot cunt aching to be touched by anything. His everything. 

So you reached for his belt. So you undid it along with his buttons to touch his heated skin, To feel the blood flow beneath as the strain of each of his muscles. You ran a hand across his chest and he let his head fall back as a woman touched him for the first time as a man of war. A veteran.

He felt like he had been cast in gold by the sun for the first time in his life. Shed his skin for a new layer reserved just for you. As if he was thanking whatever resided up there for you. He was no believer in god, but, Jesus Christ, he was starting to believe in some form of higher power. You were proof that there was a blessing for him to steal away from the world. It was in your sound. Your taste. Your touch. It beckoned him the way your finger did, curling into the collar of his shirt to clash your lips with his and let. He had no autonomy over the moan that fell into his mouth where it festered at the back of his throat and was swallowed with a desperate and heady inhale. 

You trod roads into his skin with your touch. Ones he knew he would follow later that night in an erotomaniac’s pleasure. And you finally pulled his length free from his trousers. Your underwear was soon to follow and your slick aided the way he managed to sink so smoothly into your sopping heat. A squeeze he would commit to memory and savour like the taste of fresh and ripe fruit. Because you were. Fresh and youthful in age. Ready to be devoured to the core as a gleaning red apple would be. The very same one that even took in the garden of eden. Temptation. Fruit flesh to signify sin. 

He took his first bite out of you with a satisfying crunch. And keep devouring until there was nothing left but the remnants of your birth, ready to be resurrected, grown again in the form of a new tree. 

He stilled once he bottomed out, letting himself bask in the moment. The first time he was nestled deeply in the walls of your cunt. He heard your quiet whimpers for him to move. Felt the way your pert nipples brushed his sweat slicked skin. It was a ghost of a memory the last time he felt this. The heat of someone in the throes of intimacy. And it was all over him. It was the very air he wes starved of. The past was all paled in comparison because of the way your hips bucked pathetically to feel his thrust inside you. To get him going. No one had needed him this rawly, this undignifying before. 

A single hand clamped over your mouth, stilling your movements. He felt the tickle of your exhale against the pinky finger. 

“Stay still…” He commended with a swallowed down groan when you clenched around him, ironically repeating your words from earlier.

You looked at him. The glazed over, far away look in his eyes. His voice low and laden in a gravelly tone that came from the very back of his throat. You pulled him forward to lick it out again with your tongue when his hand fell to your throat. It gave a warning squeeze. And you once again canted your hips in protest. 

This time he moved. And it was like poetry as it hit that toe curling spot inside you. Made your eyes close in blissful ignorance of what this would do to you. YOu slick drooling from your cunt onto his shaft until it shined at his very base and dripped down his heavy balls. 

His hand squeezed your throat tighter. Had you yelling for him in a suppressed squeal. His other hand clamped around your mouth for you to moan into. Your words of praise lost on his ears, listened to by his palm instead. Every devil was fuelling this act of infidelity. This act of carnal sin you both needed. Ut unwound your bones, but had the coil in your belly cramping with each swift buck of his hips. 

You met his swift thrusts in a desperate attempt to be of use to him. Finding it hard to breathe, yet alone Your cunt spasmed delectably. Searching for a new feeling. A feeling primal and dirty as the streets of Boston. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your legs trembled while he went on, giving you something you would remember from this day forward, A sentence of being binded to him.

You were in the arms of the devil himself. St his ,ercy. Nsd nothing felt more thrilling than the pleasure that rolled at a landslide's power and pace down your spine into your core. 

Another squeeze round your throat. Another unhinged moan into his hand. He snarled, baring his teeth at you before pressing his face into the crook of your neck and biting down. Your eyes closed and painted a picture of stars. You were close to seeing angels by now and the deep ache of pleasure grappled your flesh and had goosebumps flicking up to attention over your flesh.

His chest heaved with each curl of his hips. Your exhales heavier by the second while you moaned his name like a mantra to his hand. His teeth imprinted on your back like a randhishing. A mark of the sin that was witnessed by the two of you that day. Your voice was shrill. A repeated ‘Joel! Joel! Joel!’

“Fuck, yeah, sing f’me doll. Sing f’me. Let em know who’s doin’ this to you.” He panted in vain. “Tell me.” “Feels so good–”

“Again.” He demanded. 

“Feels so good! Too good!” 

And it was. He had you burning white hot at the end of an illicit teather. You gripped his back with talons of hellbirds. Clawing at his shirt clad back. The wings of hi shoulderbales. The snake length of his spine. 

“That’s it. Tell ‘em. Tell me! Tell me in making you feel fuckin’ good.” 

“You are. Harder Joel.” His pace was like poetry. Ripped you in tow and had you displayed to him. One knee was hooked over his hunched shoulder, spine curled as his forehead pressed to yours. `The new angle had you singing like a songbird. High and melodic in tune.  Your kitten heel slipping off and clattering to the floor without a second thought. The head of his cock nipped your cervix. The lewd wet sounds of your pussy smothering him in your slick and your shared moans filled the room. Everything of you was his now. You couldn't even think of giving this up to Johnny. Yes, he fucked you dirty. But Joel fucked you like it was his sole purppose of living. Like it was what gave him life. 

You fell. You fell as soon as you hit your climax with a mewling moan that ended Joel right there and then. Coming together with heavy breaths and shaking, trembling chests. His release inside of you, strings of his come smearing you in him. Marking you for later. Well and truly ruined for any other warm body that dared to slip into your sheets. 

But falling was not the problem. Only when you hit the ground is what causes all the grief. And the look you shared once the gold haze of afterglow faded was what confirmed this. 

What have you done? How would you live without this?