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blindbeta · 4 months ago

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Exploring How Toph Beifong Could Be Played By A Blind Actress and Refuting Reasons Some People Believe She Couldn’t

[Image Description: Toph Beifong from Avatar: The Last Airbender. She is waving her hand in front of her face after joking that she spotted the great library, tricking the Gaang only to remind them that she is blind. She rides on Appa who is flying above a desert landscape. End I.D.]

The live-action adaptation of season 2 of Avatar: The Last Airbender is underway. This means people are discussing Toph again, much like they did during pre-production of season 1. I have seen and even participated in promoting the idea of Toph being portrayed by a blind actress. Similarly, I have come across push-back against the idea.

Instead of if Toph Should Be Portrayed by a Blind Actress, Let’s Focus on How She Could

(should and could are bolded for emphasis)

This post will address common misconceptions that serve as barriers to the idea of a blind actress portraying Toph.

A Few Notes Before We Start

These points come from posts on online forums, YouTube comments on videos related to the casting of Toph, and tumblr posts. No one will be specifically called out here, as while these points may be attributed to certain individuals online, they represent much wider views that are shared by many, even without malicious intent. These common misconceptions stem from unchecked ableism and general lack of information. Keep in mind that my intention is not to call out any individual person, as ableism is a widespread, collective problem. The reasons I refuted in this post showed up repeatedly and were not isolated opinions of one or two people.

1. No, it would not be too difficult to find an actress who is Asian, blind, and the right age

[Image Description: Toph as The Blind Bandit uses earthbending to create three pillars of rock that shoot at an angle from the ground and smash into her opponent, throwing him against the arena wall. End I.D.]

This point suggests that it is difficult to find candidates fitting Toph’s description. I suspect this is due to racism and ableism, in that a white and abled person is considered default and therefore believed to be more common, especially by Western studio standards. This is not truly the case. People of color and disabled people are auditioning, especially for the comparatively few roles that seek them out specifically, such as Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Blind Asian people exist. Some of these people are also actresses. Some have backgrounds in dance or martial arts, especially because many actors do similar activities to increase endurance and versatility. Finding a pre-teen or teenager to play Toph would not be as challenging as many people believe, especially those who already underestimate the amount of blind people in the world and their abilities.

Those who argue this point may be under the impression that a blind actress would be out of reach due to low numbers and lack of interest in auditioning. Blind people are auditioning. The reason you don’t see them on screen is because most of them are ignored in favor of abled actors. For example, in this video, Molly Burke discusses not being chosen to play a blind character whom she was told was based on her own life. The actress chosen to play the character was not blind. You can watch it here.

Additionally, Netflix has the ability to hold a widespread casting call. They are not a tiny studio doing productions in someone’s backyard. They have access to a wider pool of actresses than the average person might think, particularly if said person is not familiar with the resources big studios often have at their disposal.

In fact, Netflix is doing just that. Below is a link to their casting call, which encourages blind and low vision actresses to audition.

Link to casting call here with alt text.

2. Some people believe Toph isn’t really blind and therefore the actress who plays her needs to be able to see

[Image Description: Toph as The Blind Bandit using bending, with shots showing her hands and feet. As her bare foot slides sideways across the ground, the camera zooms out to show her sensing vibrations. The image turns greyscale, with circles of white vibrations emanating from around Toph’s body, where they expand and flow outward. End I.D.]

The rationale behind this is probably the same as it is for Daredevil, meaning some don’t consider Toph to be blind because of the way she uses her bending.

An argument could be made that Toph’s powers erase her blindness or that her powerful abilities make her less relatable to the average blind person. However, I suspect that many sighted people engaging with these discussions of Toph’s casting are not also concerned with questions of erasure or relatability. In discussions questioning her blindness, the evidence given mostly centers on Toph’s physical abilities rather than relatability to real blind people.

Her bending aside, Toph is certainly blind. She experiences ableism from her parents and general community. Blindness shaped her life in a lot of ways, even with her bending, which is also influenced by her disability.

We see Toph being guided while running on the airship, needing assistance while walking on ice, and struggling to travel in a desert. She uses her other senses, including hearing and tactile senses. She has limitations regarding how she is able to interact with an unaccommodating world, such as inaccessible reading and writing systems.

There are also lifestyle and cultural implications of blindness extending beyond the inability to see. Being blind is not only about what one can and cannot do, which is true of Toph’s experience as well. Blind people may have different values, experiences with family and friends, different senses of humor, or may place higher value on other sensory experiences compared to sighted peers.

Whether or not Toph is good blindness representation can be argued. However, she is still a blind character. Her blindness influences her whole life, even as she is more than her blindness at the same time. Her life as a blind person is about more than limitations and abilities. Reducing her, and any blind person, for that matter, to only these facets of her experience oversimplifies what it is like to be a blind person.

Claiming that she isn’t a blind character because of her ability to do x, y, and z can be incorrect for a lot of reasons.

Blind people are more than what we can do or what we produce. Our experiences are rich and varied. Our lives are inherently meaningful no matter our abilities or limitations. It is both ableist and inaccurate for sighted people to attempt to put us all into boxes.

Additionally, blindness is a spectrum. [Bolded for emphasis.] You can read about it at the following posts on my blog:

here

and here.

Here is a good list of legally blind YouTubers with various types of visual experiences.

According to various sources on the blindness spectrum, about 85% to 95% of blind people have some remaining vision:

93% according to RNIB

This Perkins School For the Blind fact sheet estimates about 90 to 95% of blind have some remaining vision

American Foundation for the Blind estimates about 15% of blind people are totally blind and discusses the spectrum of blindness here

The spectrum of blindness is important because our experiences become even more diverse when the spectrum is considered. This means that assumptions about what we can and cannot do become even harder for sighted folks to guess accurately.

This accuracy is important if sighted people are going to try to put limitations on blind people, which they have no business doing anyway. They are not the authority on what blind people can do, what we cannot do, or what is good for us. Only blind people can answer that for themselves.

Lastly, blind people are already used to navigating and interacting with their surroundings. They have had anywhere from months to a lifetime of experience, which would translate better to Toph’s ease with her blindness and confidence in her bending.

While an actor wearing contacts to obscure their vision might stumble around and have difficulty on set, someone who is actually blind could lend Toph’s character a much more relaxed, confident attitude in addition to possessing experience navigating in a way that works for her. She is used to being blind. Therefore, an actress who is also used to being blind brings a lot to the performance in terms of physicality, attitude, and the ability to focus on portraying the character, rather than simulating blindness.

Which leads me into the next point.

3. The idea that Toph doesn’t move like a blind person relies on stereotypes of blind people

[Image Description: A GIF from the episode “The Runaway”. Toph, Sokka, and Aang all con some con artists and cheer after their victory, Toph raising her arms high before snatching the prizes. They all run away. End I.D.]

There is no specific way of moving like a blind person. Like sighted people, the way blind people move may be influenced by many factors, such as level of vision, how long they have been blind, their mobility aid, navigation techniques, familiarity with their environment, level of confidence, feelings of safety, other disabilities, energy levels, cultural factors, and more.

While there are mannerisms that are recognizable to blind communities, there is no one way to move like a blind person. Just as there is no one way to look blind.

The ideas of “not moving like a blind person” or “not looking blind” come from stereotypes of blindness. In fact, these ideas can be so pervasive that blind people who don’t fit stereotypes may be accused of faking. I explore this subject here.

In this video, Sam from The Blind Life discusses the experience of performing blindness or being pressured to act more blind than he is. Link here. He explains while he has some vision, he uses his cane to indicate to others that he is blind. This is one of the main functions of a cane. Sam explains feeling pressure to adhere to certain stereotypes about blindness or risk being accused of faking.

Similarly, in this video linked here, Molly Burke discusses the stereotype that blind people’s eyes look noticeably different from sighted eyes. This includes the inaccurate belief that all blind people have cloudy eyes, blank eyes, eyes that are always closed, or eyes that simply must be covered in dark sunglasses to protect the sensibilities of sighted people. Molly explains that while blind people can certainly have these attributes, not all of us do. Molly laments that the phrase, “You don’t look blind,” is either used to invalidate her or to praise her for passing as a sighted person, which is ableist.

Just as blind people don’t look the same way, we don’t move the exact same ways either. That applies to Toph as well. For example, she prefers to keep her feet on solid ground for bending purposes, orientation, and possibly due to cultural factors valuing stability and connection to the earth.

4. The idea that accommodations would be impossible to provide is rooted in ableism

[Image description: A GIF of Toph and Zuko sitting beside each other on the floor at the Ember Island theatre episode. Toph punches Zuko’s arm. Metaphorically for the purposes of this post, she is punching ableist ideas that have nothing to do with Zuko. End I.D]

Here is a thread I shared in the early days of this blog, wherein the topics of blind actors and accommodations are discussed. The entire thread might also be helpful for this post, as I explore the same points, which shows how common these misconceptions are. While this may seem to be an isolated online disagreement, none of these arguments are new. That is why I believe this topic is important— these arguments about accommodations being too difficult or a burden on others also pop up in conversations about other workforces and other disabilities.

A blind character not being played by a blind actor is one thing. A blind person not being hired for a job they are qualified for due to resistance to providing accommodations is not so easy to ignore, not so seemingly isolated a concern. These barriers don’t only apply to blind actors looking for work. They apply to all blind people looking for work.

That means most of this isn’t really about Toph, nor the opinions of random people online. Instead, I hope to highlight common patterns in ableist thinking and dispel these ideas using a character people care about. This is, of course, in addition to my own desire to have a blind actress play Toph.

With that said, let’s explore what work accommodations might look like using examples of blind actors.

Dionne Quan is a blind actress who has an extensive filmography for voiceover work, including popular characters such as Kimi from Rugrats. In this article from when the character was first introduced, she discusses how she performs. Link.

Quote from the article: “Most of the recording was done in a studio with just a mike and a stand for the script. I had the lines in braille, and I would read them on the way over to get into character. You have to have your bag of tricks ready to go.”

Most of the work Quan discusses involves typical acting stuff. The accommodations given to her are similar to adaptations that might be made in an office setting. Additionally, with all the technology available now, it is easy to make a script accessible through large print, VoiceOver and memorization, Word document instead of a PDF, a Braille display, etc.

And as of August 2024, Quan can add adult Toph Beifong to her list of characters. Which is super exciting and, I thought, an appropriate fact to include in this post. You can read more here.

To continue the discussion of accommodations for actors, I would like to discuss Ellie Wallwork. Wallwork is a blind actress who has performed on Doctor Who.

She describes her experiences on set, such as blocking scenes and using tactile accommodations in this short video from the SeeSaw podcast. Link here.

Transcript:

Elie Wallwork speaking:

“Obviously, markers are just normally flat bits of tape on the floor. I had to have some sort of tactile ones so I knew where I was stepping onto. And it takes longer. It definitely takes a bit longer. I guess the thing that frustrates me about the industry is that sometimes casting directors will think, ‘Well, how could a blind person possibly do this, do that? How could they do stunts? How could they even navigate around set?’ But it’s perfectly possible if you— for example, with the crew that I had on all the productions I’ve been on, they’ve all been really kind, really patient with me and able to understand that, yeah, okay, it might take me five minutes longer to block a scene, but that’s fine because it means it’s authentic.”

End transcript.

You can listen to the full episode here.

Lastly, I find that many sighted people are not generally knowledgeable when it pertains to what blind people can or cannot do. Examples of this lack of knowledge include frequent questions about how blind people read, exist in online spaces, cook, etc—and these are simply from posts on my own blog.

Here is a link to a discussion thread that explores ableist assumptions people often make what blind people are or are not able to do. It particularly relevant for this topic. Link can be found here. Please remember that while I did respond to some folks who expressed opinions colored by ableist assumptions, that post is not about them. Just as this post is about addressing ableism in general rather than from a specific source.

The point is: consider why abled people are so comfortable stating what blind people can and cannot do, when one of the most common questions about blindness is still “how do you use a phone or the internet?”

People who aren’t blind often fail to grasp what our limitations actually are. Many people are still surprised to learn that technology or accommodations exist for us, despite having access to various forms of technology themselves. They struggle to understand that we can live our daily lives, possibly because they personally cannot imagine themselves without the vision they rely on, such as that time a professor asked blind content creator Stephanie Renburg [quote] “How do you live?” when the conversation was supposed to be about school accommodations [Link here].

This brings me to an assertion that is often made when sighted actors obscure their vision in order to play blind characters. It is often noted that it was too hard for them emotionally, mentally, and physically. Because of this reaction, the assumption is made that a blind person cannot possibly perform the role.

For example, in the article linked here, this is stated about Jamie Foxx in his role as Ray Charles. “Some actors, including Jamie Foxx as Ray Charles in “Ray” (2004, best actor) and Blake Lively in “All I See Is You” (2017), have chosen to wear ocular prosthetics, rendering them literally blind during their performances. But this creates a new problem: Unlike real blind people, who can spend years honing their orientation and mobility skills, the blindfolded sighted person becomes lost, confused and frightened with the sudden loss of sight — Foxx told interviewers he began hyperventilating as soon as his eyes were glued shut with the custom prosthetic eyelids that the filmmakers affixed over his eyes.”

Being blind is different from a sighted person temporarily obscuring their vision. Blind people have a better handle on being blind because we’ve been doing it longer. Blindness is part of our lives. Of course blind people are going to have an easier time portraying blind characters. This means most of the concerns people bring up when discussing sighted actors struggling with being unable to see won’t actually apply to blind people who have been at this for far longer.

I also wanted to address the idea that hiring blind actors would cost more, according to the assertion made in that thread about hiring blind actors, which you can read here if you haven’t already. While I can understand why someone might believe hiring a blind actor would cost more, I believe it would actually cost less.

Blind actors can use their own canes or other assistive devices used by the character, which saves money on expensive materials

Blind actors likely already have experience with O&M training, saving money and time that would otherwise be spent training a sighted actor, such as described here

Blind actors don’t need contacts or prosthetics, which may otherwise be used help an actor simulate blindness

And blind actors would have an easier time navigating sets, dancing, or doing required physical activities while blind, which reduces the learning curve that sighted actors with obscured vision need

A few Disclaimers:

1) Blind people learn from our communities and through life experience. While we naturally have more experience being blind, our knowledge is enhanced through learning from other blind people and participating in training designed to improve our life skills. I maintain that a sighted person obscuring their vision for a few hours will not have the same level of experience.

2) Reminder that blindness is a spectrum that a blindfold cannot replicate.

and 3) This post is not to say that sighted actors cannot do well or cannot put effort into their performance. According to the article above, Charlie Cox won an award from the AFB for his commitment to portraying Daredevil. However, just because there are sighted actors willing to put in the work does not mean blind actors can’t. I wanted to include this disclaimer in case someone sees the AFB article I shared and worried I’m trying to disparage actors who have already portrayed blind characters and happened to do a good job. After all, I love the original performance we received from Michaela Murphy, who originally voiced Toph. That doesn’t mean studios should not make an effort to cast more blind actors moving forward, nor does it justify any of the silly or explicitly ableist reasons people give for why sighted actors must be chosen over blind ones.

Let us return to refuting those excuses with the last thing I wanted to address.

5. Some people are concerned that a blind person might get hurt doing martial arts, but so can literally anyone else

[Image description: GIF of Toph dressed in Fire Nation attire. She punches through a rock.]

Kids can get hurt in any kind of sport, yet society doesn’t try to keep children from these activities for their own safety. However, disabled kids—and adults for that matter—are often reminded that we are being kept out of spaces for our own protection. Which we didn’t need, nor ask for.

This need to protect disabled people can be not only infantilizing, but hypocritical as well. For example, a blind person might be discouraged from playing recreational sports in a misguided attempt to protect them. Conversely, structures that keep blind people at risk are allowed to stay firmly in place, such as discrimination around transportation, inaccessible infrastructure, and poverty.

Blind people play sports anyway. Often, these sports carry their own risks of injury, as most sports do. Blind people have the agency to understand this and consent to it. Examples include blind football [link] and goalball [link].

Here is a video of Sadi the Blind Lady discussing goalball with Eliana Mason, a Paralympic athlete who plays goalball professionally.

Transcript: “Goalball is sport for blind and visually impaired athletes. It was created after World War II for blinded veterans and is now a Paralympic sport. The coolest thing about it is that everyone wears eyeshades so no matter what your level of vision loss is—because blindness is a spectrum— it equalizes it. The ball has bells in it and the court is straight with tape over it. It’s on a volleyball sized court. It’s three on three. And basically in offense, we are throwing the ball as hard as we can with a lot of technique involved, about 30 to 45 miles an hour to have it hit the ground and roll and hit the other players on their bodies. And on defense, you are throwing your body out and diving in front of this 3 pound ball and blocking it. So essentially you want to get hit with the ball.”

End transcript.

Getting hit with a ball, especially in the face or stomach area, is going to hurt. That is okay, because as long as safety precautions are taken, pain might be part of the experience depending on the rules and anticipated possibility of injury.

Martial arts and dance, which are backgrounds sought specifically in the Netflix Toph casting call, can also lead to accepted forms of pain or discomfort. While one could argue that sports injuries could and should be preventable, this post is more concerned with the expectation of pain, injuries, and what steps are taken to prevent them, such as protective gear or an experienced coach / teacher.

A blind person auditioning for Toph knows that martial arts will be involved. She will spend time learning choreography, building trust with co-actors, and figuring out works best for her. This structure is similar for blind people playing football or goalball or tennis or fencing or whatever else they want to do.

Lastly, people who aren’t blind also experience pain or injury during sports. Same with martial arts or dance.

The actress who plays Toph might get hurt. She might not. Some pain might even be an expected part of training. That is no reason to exclude a blind person from participating. That is no reason to say Toph couldn’t be played by a blind actress. [Bolded for emphasis]

Lastly, anyone training actors on fight choreography already knows how to do so safely. That fact that this is choreography is also helpful, allowing for memorization of actions and reactions. Conversely, the sports and physical activities I listed above are not choreographed, with the exception of dance, and are therefore less predictable. Therefore, if blind people can get head injuries playing on a recreational blind football team, a blind actress can handle fight choreography.

Closing

Thank you for reading all of this. My points still stand whether or not a blind person is actually cast for Toph.

Too Long, Didn’t Read:

Unchecked ableism can lead to oppression even if it is unintentional

Blind actors exist

A blind actor would better capture Toph’s ease and confidence with her blindness

Blind people can do a lot more than sighted people usually think they can

Blind people also face discrimination and limitations that sighted people may not have considered

Blindness is a spectrum and most blind people can still see something

There is no one way to look or move like a blind person

Accommodations are not that difficult to provide

Hiring a blind person would actually cost less money

Most of the popular reasons people believe Toph cannot be played by a blind actress are rooted in ableism

This post is not only about Toph or actors, but an example of how unchecked ableism can be harmful

For example, low employment rates for blind people, inaccessible online resources, or Toph-related posts shared without image descriptions

Toph Beifong could totally be played by a blind actress

#blind #atla toph #toph beifong #atla #netflix atla #netflix avatar #Toph Beifong casting Netflix #ableism #blind characters

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simpjaes · 5 months ago

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renaissance man (p. js)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion. or the one where jay is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and well, other things.

minors dni!! | pls reblog to show your support!

WORDCOUNT― 14.6k

PAIRING― park jongseong x afab reader

CONTENT― fluffy comfort smut, strangers to lovers like immediately, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening.

!!ATTENTION!!― read this before? that’s because I run two blogs and like to re-vamp fics i’ve previously written for other groups! [@/ncteez is likely where you’ve read it from. THAT IS ME!!!]

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jay!!!![i am not of this belief, i think his cock is fat and huge], he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship, unprotected sex, sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to pretend he wouldn’t want that, back scratches (sexual)

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing.

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips.

“I’m fine, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle your chosen toy without help.

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long that he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo.

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond. “I think I know my body well enough and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jay’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys, he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows what everyone in this town’s kinks are after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets…he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly.

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing.

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains.

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet timid man who shows up with pans of food for events.

The guests seem to love him and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being. Someone you’d wanna bring home to mom, some might say.

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion.

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. You know, the really fucking huge one.

Upon meeting his eye again for the first time, he could tell it really is you, simply because of the way you furrow your brow as you recognize him.

Jay couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him. Because it’s honestly pretty common to see someone nervous or uncomfortable while buying items far less telling than the one you bought.

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family and by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to explain what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance.

He follows you down the line of dishes, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed, or perhaps even an attempt to ask you not to snitch on where else he works to make his money.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from.

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another.

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a crooked grin.

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jay. See you around.”

Heading away from the tables of food and toward the table that contains all of your favorite cousins, you are immediately bombarded with a raised brow from one of them. Ah, nosy.

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing at the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures. She doesn’t quite catch the way Jay’s eyes flicker back to you, over and over again, repeatedly.

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.”

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jay? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone.

His personality seems different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks its funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills before speaking to him again.

“Just how many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. The brief break he’s taken from stealing glances so he could actually do his jobs appears to be the time you feel the need to finally approach. Still, he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down.

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point.

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not or may not be to like about him. You can’t tell if it’s good news or bad news that you’re not finding anything to raise any red flags.

He’s bold, confidence, charming, clearly has a decent work ethic–

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster. We have tons in stock if you wanna–” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him without alerting your family of a new future husband or something.

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes.

He pauses, easing up at the way you’re just as cheeky and playful as he is, despite being surrounded by your family. It’s mildly inappropriate, but it’s making his shift go by quickly. You’re making his shift enjoyable today, so he continues.

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again with a brief pause, knowing the size of that dildo you bought by heart, and fully aware that it probably ripped you in half if you really managed to put that thing anywhere inside of you. “Correction, they should be worried.”

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.”

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to take time from your family reunion to have a discussion about your plastic cock intake anyway.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare it down instead.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him before swirling around and walking away thinking hard about the fact that…yeah, he might actually see you sooner than he thinks.

Honestly, maybe within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale this time.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Unfortunately for you upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. You drop your head to the steering wheel in a sigh and annoyed grunt.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny Sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you’ve been here at your parent’s house? You refuse to answer your own question.

And just as you go to accept your defeat, preparing to head back inside and take the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.

That savior is none other than Jay, walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise.

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield.

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jay shakes his head apologetically.

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door.

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m not too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well.

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible.

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jay nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock and probably already hit the sack without even cleaning up the yard.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jay looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window.

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff.

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Knowing that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in this driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything.

Jay unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help.

Of course it is.

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?”

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him.

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about said car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, I couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jay pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question.

“Was that too forward to ask?”

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does.

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.”

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…right?” You comment quietly, glancing at him.

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.”

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.”

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening.

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?”

Oh fuck, he’s right.

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you.

And you hear him echo your name, asking where it is that you’d like to go.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. At least, not without hanging out a few times first.

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question.

“Where to then?”

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him.

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.”

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot.

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over. And in all fairness, you’ve been trying to find a reason to slip in your relationship status to him.

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote.

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine.

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it.

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone.

“You know, normally people don’t buy toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.”

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass.

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase.

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a really high sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip.

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again.

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes at him, trying not to stare at him for too long because goddamn is he handsome. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus.

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Pocket 2, and Jessica.”

“Jessica?” You raise a brow despite the sarcastic banter, wondering if maybe that’s based on his ex girlfriend or something.

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile.

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too.

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable.

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.”

You nod energetically with a laugh.

“Variety is good.” You continue, not mentioning the array of toys you have stashed away.

“Yeah, I think experimenting with different things is good. I only really liked the two I kept though, I guess.”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him because you were looking a little too fondly at that little scar on his nose, the birth mark on his neck, the way his lips crease when he swallows his drink and– yeah, you definitely glance away.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He comments, tapping the cup against his lips and looking at you.

You’re a little stunned by him, never having met a man so open to speaking like this, with a woman he barely knows no less.

“Okay, enough about my dildo. I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Oh? Embarrassed? Since when?” He jokes at first. “What is it then?”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, seeing as how you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, studying the way you make yourself a bit smaller compared to just minutes before.

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a doll with a very normal dick?”

Jay fucking snorts. How mundane.

Unfortunately for you though, Nope.

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got fem tantaly dolls and all sorts of blow up dolls but he’s never brought in just like, a torso with a cock, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You shrug.

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, that pretty smile you’ve seen time and time again echoing the most attractive laugh you think you’ve heard in a long time. This time, his smile doesn’t fade as the seconds pass, no. He’s unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more.

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get dick-stabbed where they don’t need it mid orgasm.”

You glare.

“Wait, no, because it actually hurts.” You frown at him. “I just wish your shop catered a little more to women who just wanna ride a dick without the dangers of riding said dick.”

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your–” He pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now. “Um…” He trails off uncomfortably, unintentionally adjusting himself in his jeans by spreading his legs slightly against your couch.

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off.

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself telling me that.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, knowing that all you need to do is point out that he got flustered to shut him up. You opt not to because still, the two of you barely know each other. Instead, you opt to laugh along with him, letting your gaze fall back to studying all of those features he has that you didn’t quite notice before.

While you did notice he was handsome before, it’s not like you paid that thought any mind. There are a lot of handsome men out and about after all. It only starts to matter when they allow you to get close enough to appreciate it more. Not to mention, in your experience at various sex shops, most employees of them are mundane and nonchalant. Some are strange old men, or cool old women. Jay though? Jay.

Hmm…how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his sharp jawed smile and pretty eyes. The little marks and celestial kisses against his skin that shows you of a life he’s been living. He feels…warm. Like everything about him looks comforting, smells comforting, sounds comforting. And now, even compared to when you met him at the shop, even at the reunion just this afternoon…he’s so much more handsome in this moment.

Learning his personality, hearing his voice say your name, having him take the time to not only help you but befriend you?

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… you don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm.

“You know, Jay,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening.

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off.

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second.

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?”

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed.

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time.

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.”

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad.

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out. Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential.

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help the fluttering feeling in his chest.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It's almost two in the morning by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you.

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you.

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again.

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness for some reason, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite meal. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction.

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance.

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.”

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at an ungodly hour and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership.

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange?

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.”

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically.

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce.

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges.

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.”

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?”

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you.

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer.

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows.

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much.

“A man.” You dead-pan, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.”

You snort.

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.”

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond.

“I can imagine so, yeah.”

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together.

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so.

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink.

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment.

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other.

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, hovering just over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his.

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would.

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily.

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly.

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile.

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss.

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him.

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you.

“Was I wrong though?”

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out on the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you.

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes.

“Actually, say whatever you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to sit against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in.

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it would be stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him.

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him.

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?”

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jay seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now.

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day.

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops, realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.”

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room.

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn and face him once he comes inside.

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable.

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change.

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you.

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table.

He has no idea what the fuck you’re referring to until he sees it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jay ticks his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer.

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him.

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is.

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now.

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys.

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind.

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually.

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like?

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?”

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer.

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?”

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you.

“With you? Looks like it.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you.

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before.

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier.

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your arm and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky.

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you left your headlights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died.

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way.

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing your fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his hair hangs in front of his eyes. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you.

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair.

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.”

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that the curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too.

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing along your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you.

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too.

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back.

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks even more pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension but permanently arched in a way that makes him appear constantly moody.

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over your head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you–” He smiles knowingly, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs.

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude.

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on one hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your core. “No promises now, though.”

You smirk, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your chuckle off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss.

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again.

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands.

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit.

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering.

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control. After all, toys can’t give you the foreplay that he can.

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your waist, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right in the center of your mess before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again.

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Goddamn, if this is how he sounds when he’s with a girl then you feel more lucky than before. You can’t imagine the amount of women who have fallen completely in love with this guy. And, before you can actually respond to him with another cheeky comment, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly between your legs, cupping you there and even scooting you up the bed with the force of how he grabs you.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit.

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly.

You can feel the fabric stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good, if you’re being honest.

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers.

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.”

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want.

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties.

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally.

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you.

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?”

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the words to just tell him yourself.

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bear to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure.

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment.

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing him a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him.

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on his fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance.

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them as you cling to him.

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have your legs shaking.

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it.

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want.

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you.

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now.

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs.

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs.

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it.

“Pull it out.” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want.

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off.

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head.

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering.

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your needy cunt.

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually.

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides.

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you?

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist.

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him.

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check.

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds?

“Jay,” You say, slightly out of breath.

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen constantly pressing into it. He could have gotten off from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long too, but now?

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately.

“Shit,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.”

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into you and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already cum just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him by explaining how good your pussy feels, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.”

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your pulsing walls, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy.

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest.

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, he’s still on the same page with you.

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace.

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jay though, he’s in love with the idea that you’ll leave a mark.

Obsessed with the sting of it, really, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this.

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner.

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit.

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily.

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–”

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation.

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely full. Jay really is something, or, someone.

The two of you release together, and his lips fall slack just like yours do. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop.

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jay is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess.

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work.

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for an evening at the sex-shop. He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you.

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

#enhypen smut #park jonseong smut #jay smut #park jay smut #enha smut

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mrslestappen · 6 months ago

Text

Disease : paranoid ✦ cl16

summary: The fact that you have to work as a Formula One driver's assistant for your final college grade is not the worst of your problems; the true issue is that no one told you that you would become a emotional support human for him.

pairing: charles leclerc x assistant!reader

tags: fluff + angst?, caring charles (tiny bit) + comfort, bad thoughts.

# part one - next part [ series masterlist ]

Everything feels unreal. You're watching the mechanics work in the garage, and the only thing you can think is: has red always been such a pretty color?

It was the first race of the season, and you didn't have much to do yet, they told you that you just needed to make sure that Charles did everything that they asked him to do, and that was easy, thanks to him.

“Have you seen my notebook?" Charles asks as he looks around to see if he can catch a glimpse of the tiny notebook somewhere, you let out a chuckle, grab your purse from the floor and give him what he needs.

“How is it that you always have everything I need?” he took the notebook from your hands and opened it “I try my best” he gave you a knowing look.

Charles still remembers the first time he saw you at the Ferrari headquarters in Maranello, you had just signed your contract with them and he had just been told that he had a new assistant.

You were quite awkward and a bit clumsy when he first struck up a conversation with you. He learned that this was your first job, and he made a mental note to make you feel welcome, and also he didn't want you to leave him like the others.

He tried his best to make you feel as comfortable as possible before the season started, he was patient and generally nice, which was what you really needed at that moment.

When you made your first mistake and didn't tell Charles that he was supposed to be in a meeting, he took the blame and told Fred that it was his fault.

You thought he would be angry, but he just said "It's okay, everyone makes mistakes" and in that moment you thank the angels for making him such a nice person.

"Thank you, Mr. Leclerc"

"None of that, we are a team you and I, if you ever need help just come to me."

That was a month ago when you were still new and walking on eggshells trying not to make any mistakes, luckily you got better after all your final grade depended on it.

"Have you eaten today?" Charles asks, handing his notebook back to you, just needed to check something he thought he should comment on the car in the next meeting they will have.

"I haven't, but I was about to do so," you told him as you walked out of the garage with him beside you, trying your best not to look at him to see his face, which probably had a disappointed look on it.

"I thought you said you already ate."

"I did."

"What did you have?"

"Coffee," you mumble softly as you enter the Ferrari hospitality, "that's not food y/n," he scolds you again, you already lose count of how many times he does this.

Charles grabs a plate and starts to put different kinds of fruit on it, "you already ate," he nods, "This is for you," you try to grab the plate out of his hands, but he stretches his arm as high as he can to make sure you don't have a chance to grab it.

"It's my food, let me grab what I want," he ignores you, grabs your wrist, and walks over to one of the tables.

He pulls out a chair for you and you sit down, he puts the plate in front of you and sits across from you, motioning for you to start eating, which you do, but not before giving him the meanest look you can.

You take out your phone and play a YouTube video while you eat, it is a bad habit and Charles has told you several times but he still watches with you.

When you put the phone at the right angle so that you and Charles can see the video without any problems, you notice that he is not watching.

“Mr. Leclerc" you called him but he didn't answer, you sighed softly, you know he heard you.

"Charlie?"

"Yes?"

"You have to stop doing that," he tilted his head as if he didn't know what you were saying, "I shouldn't call you that," "Why not?" "Because you're my boss.”

"There's nothing wrong with calling me that, besides it makes me feel old when you call me Mr. Leclerc."

"You are old"

"I'm twenty-six."

The look you gave him was enough to make a dramatic gasp come out of his mouth, you were already used to his tactics so you didn't apologize for calling him old.

When the alarm on your phone went off, you grabbed it and stopped it before it could keep ringing, "Time to go, you have a meeting," you said as you handed him his notebook that he needed for to take notes.

He gave you a quick thanks, but you grabbed him and raised your hand, he gave you a pout, but you shook your head at that, he took his phone out of his pocket and placed it in your hand, "it was worth the try," he muttered to himself.

✦ ✦ ✦

While you were waiting for Charles' meeting to end, you took out your laptop and started to finish the assignment you were supposed to send for this month.

You were quite happy when your professor told you that all you had to do was to send in a report on what you had done, the experience you had gained, and what you had become better at, for your monthly assignment.

It was a pretty easy assignment since you were traveling around the world and learning things that you didn't even know existed, and since this was your first job, it was easier for you because you were learning a lot of new things.

“Y/n?" You took your eyes off the computer and looked at the person calling your name, you tilted your head as if to ask if they needed anything but they shook their head and motioned with their hand towards the hospitality door.

You quickly grab your things and walk to the door to greet your friend, "Did you see what Professor Brown posted in the announcements?" You shake your head and ask, "Is it something important?" "Depends, he wants us to take pictures of what we have been doing lately."

It didn't sound too bad, if the assignments continued to be like this, you were pretty sure you'd get an easy A.

"Did you do it?" You ask her, "I did," she nods, "but I came here to tell you because I know sometimes you don't check the announcements," you give her an embarrassed smile, "I'm not that bad," you mutter softly, and she gives you a look, which you shrug off.

"Well, I'm going back, I'm pretty sure Lando is already out of control again, see you, take care," she gave you a quick hug before walking quickly towards the McLaren hospitality.

You watched her go and sighed, taking your phone out of your pocket, ready to take some pictures to send with the assignment, "Hey, have you seen Andrea?" You jump a little at the voice next to you, "Don't do that, and yes he’s in your driver's room, are you okay? You've been acting weird since yesterday" you ask him with concern evident in your voice, but he quickly shrugs it off and tells you that he is fine.

You make a mental note to ask him later. "I'm going to exercise, go to my driver's room if you need anything, okay?" You nod, take his phone out of your purse and hand it to him.

He quickly says goodbye and walks away before you can say anything else to him, you have noticed that Charles has been acting strange since you arrived in Bahrain.

You have been meaning to ask him about it, but every time you get the chance he seems to run away, which is so unlike him.

You snap out of your thoughts and head back into the hospitality area, ready to take some pictures and send off the assignment.

✦ ✦ ✦

Practice one is about to start and everyone is running around making sure everything is perfect. The only thing that seems not to be here is the driver.

"Y/n, where is Charles?" Fred asks, you want to shrug your shoulders but then you remember that this is your job, and you should know where he is, you look at him and tell him you're going to get Charles, and he gives you a thumbs up.

You look for Charles everywhere, including his driver's room and the hospitality area. Has he left? You were pretty sure you saw him a few minutes ago.

How can a person disappear so quickly? you even ask people from other garages and they haven't seen him.

You tried to call him, but his phone was dead, it didn't even send you to voicemail.

"Y/n!" You hear someone yell your name and quickly turn your head towards Carlos, he seems out of breath, and you can see his chest rising and falling faster than normal.

"Charles is in my driver's room, I don't know what happened," he said, but that was enough for you to start running towards the Ferrari driver's room. You still shouted a thank you to Carlos and that seemed to have caught the attention of other people who looked at you strangely.

But you did not care about that, you needed it to find Charles and to make sure that he was ready to get into the car.

You reach the driver's room trying to catch your breath as much as you can, you probably look terrible with hair sticking in your face from how much you've been sweating, you want to kill him for making you suffer like this.

You were now outside Carlos' driver's door and you could hear soft mumbling, was he talking to himself?

You knocked softly on the door and waited for an answer, when you got none you decided to open the door.

"Charles how can-" you couldn't continue as Charles was lying on the floor with his hands on his head rocking back and forth as if trying to calm himself down, your thoughts of scolding him left you just by seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

You walked as slowly as you could and bent down to his level. You grabbed one of his hands, and that was enough for him to look at you quickly.

"I'm sorry - I can't, it's going to be like last year," he said quickly, you know from what you heard that last year was not a good one for Charles, the car didn't seem to work for him at all, you didn't know he was that affected by it, and now looking at him you didn't want him to feel that way.

He's such an amazing person and always so happy and joking with you, but he was hiding a lot of things that had hurt him and you couldn't let that happen.

"Hey, you can do this, okay?" both your hands grab his face and you give him a tiny smile, "I can't..." you shush him and try to get as close to him as you can, were you allowed to hug him? You did not know, but at that moment he probably needed it.

"Hey, those bad days don't define you, you're amazing and such a talented driver, last year the car wasn't good, let's leave that in the past, okay? This is a new opportunity and you're going to show everyone who Charles is, you're going to make them eat their words, so go and destroy them, champ".

That seems to make Charles' worries melt away a bit, you told him to take a deep breath with you, and when you felt that he was better you slowly let him go. But that seems to be a wrong move, because when you do, Charles seems to look at you as if you took something away from him, but you ignored it.

"Okay champ get up, time to make jaws drop with your amazing driving" you joked and you were quite happy because you could see the corner of his mouth move up a bit.

"Thank you, Mon ange"

"None of that, we are a team, you and I, remember?"

He nodded and in that moment he let himself look at you while you smiled at him, he felt as if your smile had the power to melt away his worries leaving behind a feeling of peace, in that moment he was grateful for you, he took a deep breath and let it out, there was nothing to worry about.

He's pretty sure this season will go well with you by his side because you wouldn't leave him, would you?

Scuderia :: @evie-119 @tempo-rary-fix @spookystitchery @boiohboii @halleest @itsjustkhaos @aphroditeisamilf @vicurious28 @lozzamez3 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @heyheyheyggg @teamnovalak @fakeplastiqtree @michelleyw81 @lillyssh-tposts @these-books-are-ruining-my-life @kqliie @deliciousfestsalad @biitch-with-wifi @xohollie01 @charlesleclerc2003 @loloekie @elliegrey2803 @steamy-smoker @doesnt-care @delululeclerc @vip-access @theseerbetweenus @haikyuen @arian-directioner @marvelfangirl04 @melagem02 @rach3164 @zucchinimalfoy @scopeiguess @landoslutmeout @reiofsuns2001 @badussybumper @nixily @forevercaffeinated-lee @i-wish-this-was-me @gabys-gabs @entr4p3 @trouble-sistar @thef1diary @puttyly @solo2leo @f1and1d4eva @liliummz

Team radio: I hope you like! it I feel I could have done better but English is not my first language but I will do my best to improve, I will keep practicing and improving my writing every day.

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f1byjessie · 9 months ago

Text

IN FAIR VERONA ━━ CL16.

things are hard when you're the only female in a male-dominated space, and the newest driver for the newest team knows this best.

( charles leclerc x driver!schumacher!reader )

━━ part one.

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yourusername feeling blue?

view all 1,593 comments

user i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now

user MOTHER IS MOTHERING SO HARD RN 😩

user y/n schumacher never misses

↳ user let’s be real here user the entire schumacher family never misses

↳ user y’all have seen mick’s most recent post too right??

user she is so gorgeous i am ILL

user god really does have his favorites huh 😭😭

↳ user this is undeniable proof

↳ user people this beautiful don’t actually exist i refuse to believe it

user every day i wake up and cry that i will never be as stunning and skilled as her

user formula 2 silly season has me losing my damn mind i swear 😫 i might as well be wearing a tin foil hat with the number of theories i’m following and the consistent blue themed posts y/n keeps dropping are NOT HELPING

↳ user not to add to your conspiracy madness, but it’s already confirmed that fred vesti is replacing jehan daruvala who’s moving to mp motorsport, and there are rumors that oliver bearman is also getting a prema seat which could mean that y/n schumacher is going to another team as well or leaving f2 entirely

↳ user a good chunk of the other teams have already revealed their driver lineup and none of them include schumacher, which doesn’t leave a lot of options IF the rumours are true

↳ user i can’t see her just leaving motorsports entirely considering she’s worked so hard to get where she is 🤔 which calls into question whether she’s moving to a different racing series

↳ user i really can’t see schumacher leaving tbh, especially since she’s been in f2 since 2017 and has established herself as a prema legend basically

↳ user the fact that she has been at prema for so long (and has gotten p2 in the f2 championship nearly every year since 2017) could also be proof that she’s moving on to bigger and better things

↳ user wait she’s been there HOW LONG??? since 2017??? as in she drove with charles leclerc, her brother mick, AND oscar piastri??? 🤯🤯🤯

↳ user she’s had a very long and successful career there, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she decided to retire from formula racing and move onto some other series that’s more woman-friendly, all things considered 🤷‍♀️. she has been runner-up every year that she’s competed, proven that she has what it takes to make it in a higher level of formula racing, and yet not a single f1 team has even offered her the opportunity to be even a test or reserve driver? 🤨 something isn’t adding up and i don’t want to say it’s because she’s a girl in motorsports but it’s kind of hard to ignore the proof when it’s put right in front of you.

↳ user guys the keyword is “if” here, of course, bc as fun as it is to speculate it is all still speculation and we won’t know for certain until it’s revealed by official sources. silly season is called that for a reason, and for all we known y/n is drawing out the announcement of her continued partnership with prema to stir up interest. she’s been in a very loyal and secure partnership with them for years now, a partnership that both she and prema seem very happy to keep considering just how long it’s lasted.

↳ user f2 is another series that once you win the championship you are no longer allowed to compete in, so prema may have kept her around to help carry her male teammates into first place until females are more accepted in formula racing so that she could eventually move up to f1

↳ user prema’s gonna announce her as their driver with vesti and you all are gonna look so fucking dumb for this 🙄🙄

user blue is HER color now 😍

maseratimsg 💙

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yourusername to the women of f1 that came before me, who paved the way, this is for you.

view all 1,380 comments

maseratimsg When you race, they race with you 💙.

↳ yourusername 🫶💙

user Y/N SCHUMACHER??? IN FORMULA ONE??? IN 2023???

user i’ve been following her career for years now and this makes me so excited omg

↳ user me too!! she’ll be the first female to drive in f1 in over 30 years 🤭

user HARD LAUNCH BUT FOR THE 2023 GRID I GUESS

user when maserati announced they’d be getting back into formula racing i had no idea that also meant formula one as well?? they’ve got drivers in the 22-23 formula e season right now but this is how i found out about y/n schumacher driving for the 23 formula 1 season? i think i am going into shock

user 2023 might actually be a good year if this is how we’re gonna be going into it

user WOMEN IN MOTORSPORTS

user milf = man i love females-in-fast-cars

user been watching f1 since i was a kid, always wondered why there were no girls out there driving. this year i’ll get to turn on that tv and finally see someone who looks like me

↳ user it’s so fitting that maserati’s original f1 team also had the first woman f1 driver, and now they’ll be breaking barriers again by having another woman f1 driver in their first season back

↳ user i’m hoping they’ve got a good car ready cuz i wanna see y/n schumacher up on that podium telling everyone who didn’t believe she could do it just cuz she was a girl to eat shit and die 😤😤😤

user there’s a reason there aren’t any female drivers in f1. she’s doomed to fail just like all the others smh 🙄

↳ user the biggest reason is sexism, and y/n has consistently proved throughout her career that she is just as skilled if not more than her male counterparts. she works harder to make up for the physical disadvantages she has as a woman, and she still wipes the floor with the other drivers. she’s not “doomed to fail” she’s practically destined to succeed.

↳ user y/n has trained her ass off to be the best, and she’ll prove it when she gets out on the tarmac in bahrain, just you wait 🥱

↳ user she’s literally a 6-time f2 runner up??? sure, she didn’t win, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still incredibly fucking impressive that she’s managed to get p2 against her male counterparts 6 YEARS IN A ROW 👀👀 her brother got p12 his first season and you know what she got? p2. she’s already raced with the likes of charles leclerc, zhou guanyu, yuki tsunoda, alex albon, george russell, lando norris, and a number of other very prominent formula racing names, and she held her own against them all incredibly well. she gave her own brother a real run for his money when they were teammates in 2019 and 2020, and in 2021 she was only a 9 point difference away from oscar piastri, whereas the p3 finalist was nearly a full 60 points below both of them. get out of here with that “there’s a reason there aren’t any female drivers in f1” bullshit, because the reason is misogyny 😒🙄

user not to be that person but like??? who else is lowkey excited for potential driver x driver romance?? 🫣

↳ user nah cuz i didn’t wanna make this about that but i’m actually totally ready to see who she has the best chemistry with on the grid 🫢 first hope is charles leclerc cuz they’d be a power couple hands down but also mayhaps max verstappen?? maybe??

↳ user totally agree babes a ferrari and maserati romeo and juliet love story would destroy me 😩

↳ user the parallels are already paralleling

↳ user to add to the parallels, her and charles were teammates at prema in 2017

↳ user OMG RIVALS TO STAR CROSSED LOVERS??? 😭😭

↳ user schumacher and leclerc are about to live out THE fanfic dream i can see it now

user can’t wait to see her mop the floor with these boys next year

user 2023 IS GONNA BE CRAZY 💙💙

user if i see any of those lads talk down about her or dismiss her just because she’s a woman, it’s on fucking sight 💀

↳ user they did that campaign in 2021 about equality in racing and i am BEGGING that it wasn’t just a media ploy and that they actually believe what they said about men AND women being able to drive

user this is about to be the best f1 season in history folks

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maseratimsg Prepare for trouble, and make it double ✌️💙.

view all 1,196 comments

user SCHUMACHER TWINS TEAMMATES AGAIN???

user someone pinch me i think i’m in a dream 😳

↳ user i pinched myself and this is in fact very real

user we knew y/n would be driving for maserati but to also have MICK? maserati picked not one but TWO legacy drivers they have an agenda to push and they are certainly pushing it

↳ user yeah, an agenda to win 😌

↳ user genuinely just imagine how much natural talent and skill will be in that garage come the start of the season with michael schumacher’s twins…

↳ user back in 2020 when they raced together at prema, i saw someone joke that they were made into twins because no singular human being would be able to handle having that much racing prowess, so they were split up. but idk how much of it was actually a joke because they were scarily good as teammates? y/n has always finished no more than 10 points behind p1, and mick is a very powerful driver in his own right. putting them together and letting them drive as allies again instead of rivals will be a sight that’s for sure.

↳ user imagine being nerfed at birth cuz fate knew you’d be too powerful otherwise 😂😂😂

user blue is THEIR color apparently

user it’s the schumachers’ world and we’re just living in it

↳ user schumachers vs the entire f1 grid sounds like an insane clickbait article but the fact that it’ll be real in a few months is crazy

user everyone’s talking about y/n and mick but i’m stuck on the fact that there will finally be 11 teams driving for f1 again

↳ user maserati really said fuck the expectations

↳ user maserati’s gonna get a 1-2 with the schumachers in their first year back i’m calling it now 🤪🤪

↳ user first female driver in f1 in 30 years and first 11th team to drive in f1 since 2016, and i’m betting it’ll be first ever female driver to podium in f1 and first ever female driver to win in f1 too because i’ve seen y/n schumacher’s skill and i guarantee that if she’s actually given the ability to go all out then she’s gonna be a force to be reckoned with

user hope they’ve got a good car planned cuz i wanna see these two put up a good fight

user verstappen better watch his back 👀

user Y/N SCHUMACHER WDC 2023

user at least mick got to drive with seb still on the grid, but i’m actually heartbroken that y/n won’t be able to 😔

↳ user and kimi too

↳ user i think the only drivers left are hamilton and alonso no? from before their dad retired i mean

↳ user perez, hulkenberg, and ricciardo too, but they only drove on the same grid as michael schumacher for a couple years

↳ user i imagine it would suck to lose but i personally would be very proud to see my old friend’s kids standing on a podium above me or beside me 🥹

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mickschumacher from beating you into this world, to beating you in karting (both professionally and casually), i'm so proud to have the chance to beat you in formula 1 too

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yourusername those are fighting words micky 🤨

↳ mickschumacher not sure what you mean 😊

↳ yourusername it’s on sight 👊

user GUYSSS JUST THINK ABOUT THE PADDOCK INTERACTIONS BETWEEN THESE TWO

↳ user the media days boutta be crazyyyy

↳ user i’m imagining the chaos of not just having siblings on the grid together, but twins specifically, and i’m already getting a migraine on behalf of whoever their pr officers are 😅😭

↳ user 2023 is the year they make a geneva convention for the grid prank wars and it’s gonna be the because of the schumachers

user baby photos oh i am unwell 🙃

↳ user i’ve caught a nasty case of baby fever i fear

↳ user they’re both menaces as adults, i wonder how bad they were as little kids

↳ user baby fever cured methinks 😶

user 💙💙💙 MICK P1 2023 💙💙💙

user mick being proud to race with his sister but also making it well known that he isn’t gonna take it easy on her is the type of sibling rivalry content i’m looking forward to seeing this season

↳ user i need all the drivers to have this same mentality bc i know mick is gonna recognize her as the threat that she is, but if any of those lads underestimate her just bc she’s a girl, then their karma will come in the form of eating the dust of y/n schumacher’s car

↳ user PREACH 🙌🙏

charlesleclerc cannot wait to have you both on track this year

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @casperlikej

━━ a/n: first and foremost, happy international women's day! i've had this sitting around for a little while now and decided that today would be the perfect day to finally share it, what with the themes of women empowerment and breaking the glass ceiling. my main priority will still be my lando series until i can get that finished, but updates for this might appear in between on occasion. i also wanna take a moment just to appreciate the sheer amount of research that went into this, finding a team that would reasonably work well as an 11th team for formula 1 was a bit difficult, but i'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth when maserati fits pretty perfectly. also, as a twin myself, i'm incapable of writing a sibling duo that aren't also twins, and i have zero shame about that. anyways, i'm very excited for this, and i hope everyone else is as well!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #smau #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 #mick schumacher

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 2 months ago

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October 17 - Degradation/Dumbification

pairing: Step-Mother!Wanda x sub!Reader

summary: Your step-mother wants her little girl.

content warnings: slight intox

word count: 1.4k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

“Sweetheart,” your stepmother calls, her voice echoing through the nearly-empty house. “Come here, I need your help.”

You sigh, contemplating ignoring her as your show plays on the TV. You set aside your popcorn reluctantly, stealing one last handful before pausing the show and slowly ambling toward the stairs.

Mentally cursing your dad out for choosing to get a divorce, you climb the steps. Honestly, he couldn’t have chosen a worse time. You’d just arrived home for winter break, your mind mentally exhausted from a long semester, and he’d announced his plans to divorce your stepmother with two suitcases already in hand.

So yeah, great start to the month that was supposed to be relaxing. You had already started looking at tickets back to your college state, but fuck they were expensive around the holiday season.

“Darling?” Comes your stepmother's voice again, and you let out an impatient noise as you will your feet to move slightly faster.

“I’m on my way, chill out, Wanda,” you call out, annoyance coloring your tone. Honestly, it’s like she had a spidey-sense for when you were finally relaxing or something. All you wanted was to watch your show until your brain rotted out of your ears, but you resigned yourself to the fact that you would most likely be helping Wanda with tasks for most of the break.

Arriving at her bedroom door, you lean against the doorframe and cross your arms. Wanda is rummaging through a box, her back turned toward you. As you look her over, you feel yourself flush at the sight of her.

Listen, you weren’t ashamed to admit that your stepmother was attractive. You weren’t immune to the allure of her soft, red hair or the way her breasts pushed against you when she hugged you. And fuck, her vanilla perfume drove you absolutely insane.

There was one time that you’d snuck into her room just to spray her perfume on your pillow. You’d fucked yourself that night, burying your nose in your pillow while thrusting a dildo deep inside you until you’d cum with a whimper of her name.

Shaking those thoughts away, you pray that your blush isn’t noticeable as you watch Wanda. She seems to be looking for something, bending over the bed as she removes items from the box. You have a pretty good view of her ass from this angle, and you allow yourself to look for about five seconds before you clear your throat.

“Oh, sweetheart I didn’t see you there,” Wanda says, jumping at the sound. She turns to face you, her green eyes locked on your face as she awkwardly holds up a stuffed animal.

You recognize it immediately. It was one of your childhood stuffed animals, a brown teddy bear that you’d named Fuzzy.

“Where,” you step forward, gently taking Fuzzy in your hands as you step into Wanda’s space. “Where did you find him?”

Looking up, you blink. You hadn’t realized how close you were to Wanda, her green eyes soft as she looked at you. Her hand was still outstretched, gently petting the top of Fuzzy’s head, her fingers brushing lightly against yours.

“I was going through some of the boxes in the basement,” Wanda’s eyes are sad for a moment, and you remember that your dad had lived in this house too with boxes of his own. She seems to shake herself out of it, smiling at you. “I found this one with your name on it and… I don’t know. I wanted to connect with you somehow.”

You immediately feel bad, knowing that you haven’t exactly been the best or easiest person to be around for the past week. You’d gotten so caught up in your own emotions surrounding the divorce and your dad’s apparent disappearance that you’d forgotten that Wanda was also hurting.

“Well,” you begin, somewhat awkwardly. “This is a good start.”

Wanda smiles brightly at that, her hand moving from the stuffed animal to your shoulder. She rubs it for a moment, the action causing warmth to flood through your body as you fight a blush.

“I’ll make us some dinner,” Wanda says, her hand removing itself. You hope you’re not imagining the reluctance in the action. “How do you feel about red wine?”

—

You feel… fuzzy. Your head feels like it's been stuffed with warm cotton, your hands petting your stuffed teddy bear softly while you lean against something warm. No, someone warm.

Turning your head, you feel your eyebrows rise in surprise when you find Wanda’s green eyes mere inches from yours. You mentally shrug, leaning closer into her until you’re practically cuddling her.

You feel your senses returning, numb and warm, but coherent. You’re on the couch, your arms wrapped around your stuffed animal as you lay practically on top of Wanda. Her arms are gentle around your waist, her warm breaths hitting your cheek as you inhale her vanilla perfume.

“You’re adorable like this,” she whispers, and you feel yourself sobering up at her words.

God, one glass of wine and all of a sudden you can’t think? Then again, you could never truly think properly around Wanda. Something about her just made you feel safe and cozy and… small?

You don’t even attempt to speak, simply smiling at her words and nuzzling into her neck. You can feel a flush spreading down your cheeks, and in the back of your mind you wonder if you should feel ashamed for cuddling up to your stepmother while she was in the midst of a divorce with your dad.

Wanda’s lips press against the top of your head, and you immediately feel your guilt dissipate. Fuck your dad, this felt amazing. You’d been wanting Wanda’s hands on yours for as long as you’ve known her, and who were you to complain now that she was finally… caressing you… and…

Hands move against your waist, moving down further and cupping your ass slightly before moving back up. You almost think you’ve imagined it, until you register the fast beating of Wanda’s heart. You can hear it in her chest, and you feel your own breaths begin to quicken as arousal makes its way through your body.

Taking a risk, you softly kiss her neck, feeling her breath hitch underneath your lips. You continue, letting the feeling of her soft skin under your lips and the gentle caress of her hands lull you into a fuzzy headspace.

“Oh, my darling little girl,” Wanda murmurs, and you feel yourself slipping farther and farther and…

You stir, shaking your head in confusion. What was happening?

Wanda rests her hand on the back of your neck, moving your head down towards her chest. You can see her nipple straining through her shirt, and lick your lips before pausing.

“Go on, baby. Suck Mommy’s nipples,” Wanda murmurs, and you feel a wave of fuzziness overtake you. You were so… warm and…

“My brainless little girl…” Wanda simpers, her voice low and velvety. “Go on, turn your brain off for Mommy, let her take care of you.”

Ah, yes, that sounded perfect.

Her hand pushes your head into her chest, and you feel your brain go blank as you mindlessly begin to suck on her nipple. It's soothing, your tongue swirling around her stiff peak while her hands move down and begin to move your hips.

“My dumb little toy, so pliant for me,” she whispers, moving your hips to grind against her thigh.

You feel good. So… fucking… good. Everything is warm and you can feel a pleasant ache between your legs and you’re humping your stepmother’s leg and her breast is in your mouth. Your hand moves up to fondle her over breast, your fingers rolling over her hard nipple as she groans.

“That’s right… you just want to be Mommy’s dumb little girl, don’t you?” Wanda asks, and you nod eagerly. “You want to be Mommy’s little toy, here for me to play with whenever I want, and however I want, right?”

You nod again, your arousal building at the thought. God, that would be perfect. You wanted to stay like this forever.

Wanda chuckles, and you realize that you mumbled your thoughts out loud. Her hand moves up to stroke your hair, lulling you deeper into that headspace.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be my dumb little toy for a very long time.”

It sounds like a promise, and you nod. Yes. That sounded perfect. That’s all you wanted. Wanda smiled at your thoughts, pushing slightly harder with her magic, which had gone unnoticed by you. She felt your mind bend, and gave one last final push.

Your mind broke completely, pliant and moldable. Perfect, and completely Wanda’s.

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hoseoksluna · 17 days ago

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THE BALL OF LIGHT, ii. | jjk

pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc

genre: angst

word count: 4.2k

summary: inside jeongguk's apartment is where you meet the possibility of life.

pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run

cp: ao3 / wp

warnings: mentions of smoking and vaping, described nudity, oc feels a lot of emotions and she's overwhelmed, guilt.

note: i really enjoyed writing this chapter and it opened my eyes actually to where it's going. i hope you like the chapter as well. writing about jungkook is my biggest comfort. i feel at home. i love you, guys. happy reading. don't forget to tell me what you think. i'd appreciate it if you tell me ur expectations. <3

side note: i also want to update my taglist because i feel like most of the people i tag haven't allowed themselves to be tagged on this app. if you want to be tagged in my works, let me know. in comments below or my askbox.

It seems as though Jeongguk is still turning your words over his heart once you arrive at his apartment and the sullen grayness of his personal space greets you. A certain pensive look, embellished with a wrinkle between his brows, paints him in the shades of stark reclusiveness, the unapproachability of that façade the blue highlights that make the current inertia of his usual hyperactivity uncannily animated. It’s an oxymoron, the stillness of his being, despite the fact you very vividly sense the turmoil happening inside his chest.

Turmoil must be second-nature to him. Almost like a friend.

You don’t know what to say. The downturned corners of his mouth are so engraved into your vision that when you look away, you can still see them. Sad and pouty, caused in most probability by the truth you uttered. War happens, Jeongguk, if Yoongi and I see each other outside of the walls of our home. Those were the most heart-felt, authentic words that were flung out of the chambers of your heart because—yes, if Yoongi were to know that you smoke one cigarette a day with a boy with a nicotine-addiction, a motorcycle and a tendency to go back to people who have spread agony down his lungs like the white fumes of his cigarettes, he would get up from the kitchen table and grab the nearest knife, start a war for your dream that, according to him, got interrupted by temporary, meaningless things.

But Jeongguk isn’t meaningless. You thought for the longest time that he was temporary, but his lingering presence through high school and now through uni convinced you of the opposite. You believe now, now as he bends at the waist to place a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers with a yummy fried egg on top in front of your icy-cold, socked feet, that he has more shape—the eyes of an angel born wrong, born human, the mouth of a saint that fears to say the wrong thing—than your dream does.

Your dream doesn’t have a face.

Your dream doesn’t have a meaning, either.

Yoongi knows this, pretends he knows the contours of that dream when he tells you to go study. Pretends he knows the color of its flesh, all the greens, purples and blues, when the only words he throws your way are of commanding nature. Come eat. Go shower. Go study. Don’t. You can’t recollect the last time you had a genuine conversation with him that did not include those very words.

It’s exhausting. Your bones are burdened by it—by being treated as a student and not as a human being. But you ignore this because you respect him, hold him in high regard because of his own burden, laid heavy across the length of his shoulders that have become too thin, too skeletal, that have once been broad, beautiful and ogled by those, who had the luck to encounter him.

He doesn’t go to the gym anymore, to fill the mass of his muscles with exercise. He works long hours doing food delivery to fill your tummy instead.

And it’s hard—balancing your respect for him and your ostensibly inner desire to go in search of the things you read about in your books. You can’t help but expect to dig them out, selfishly, in Jeongguk. The kind, now somber, boy who has been by your side for so long. With words and simultaneously without.

Would Yoongi understand? Doesn’t he, also, have a need for company?

You push those thoughts away and focus on the clandestiny. On Jeongguk’s frown, on his adorable pout, on his emotions. Because perhaps in it you shall find your destiny.

Jeongguk walks forward and you swell with the guilty need to fix what you’ve broken, to glue back the pieces that put together his traditional cheer. The tree in you shivers in cold. Your own bones are still frosty like that bus stop you both escaped from. But glancing at the span of his shoulders, drooped and rolled forward, the guilt expands, making you think that maybe you shouldn’t have said something, despite the fact the truth made a dent in the birdcage you have been dwelling in since the death of your parents.

He empties out his pockets. Wallet, keys, phone, a pack of cigarettes, lighter and a pink, fat vape that you’ve never seen him smoking before. He places those essentials on the kitchen counter, stretching his hands backwards and ridding himself of his beige hoodie. The T-shirt he wears underneath rides up, exposing the smooth and muscled skin of his back, and your throat dries up at the sight. The tree stills, pacified by the movement of his shoulder blades. It puts a spell on you, this innocent yet consumingly heated view of a male’s body, one that continues burning down your body even when he grabs a hold of the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it down.

Somehow, the act made it hotter.

Your fingers wrap around your throat, a habit of yours that helps you compose yourself, ground yourself in the severity of the moment. Jeongguk reaches his hand towards the kitchen counter again and as you swallow with great difficulty, he fills his lungs with that scented fume before discarding it.

It isn’t until your breath comes out in pathetic staccatos that he turns around. Large eyes heavily lidded, clouded by that white smoke as he exhales. He purses his lips, dimples on full show, in order to make the smoke thinner. And that, the eye contact while blowing out the fumes, his full attention on you, the element that you��re here—in a boy’s apartment, all alone, for the first time, that warms up your bones, the frost melting away. You feel your body form little pearls of perspiration, overwhelmed and so suddenly overheated by his boyish beauty.

He’ll never know—just like Yoongi. He’ll never know what he does to you.

“I’m gonna make you some tea so you can get warm,” he says, softly, and shuffles his feet towards the brightly lit kitchen. You hear the water running, the clapping noise of the kettle being shut and then the boiling bubbles, but you’re frozen—red-hot and frozen—in the place you’re standing, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to be a normal human being. “You’re free to take a shower if you want.”

A headache pierces through your undeveloped frontal lobe. Nothing about this is normal to you—being over a guy’s place, using his shower and his towel, drinking his tea. Being at home all the time never prepares you for this and while you feel so out of place, it also evokes the feeling of thrill.

This is thrilling.

And it should stay feeling that way, but your guilt eclipses it so quickly. Your guilt and your self-pity. Due to Yoongi, due to the fact that this should feel normal and that you should act normally. How many girls must’ve been in your place and how well they were able to talk to him and accept his kindness and hospitality without being weird about it.

You run a hand down your face. Feel like crying. Feel like screaming. Feeling like slapping yourself so you snap out of it and act normal. Yoongi flickers in your chest, however, and you’re reminded that you should let him know where you are. Usually, at this hour, you’re settled in your cage. Right there in the corner, the only warm spot because you sit there all the time. But you’re not there. You fit your body through the slivers, your feet rubbing against the different, more warmer floor than the one inside your birdcage, while your wrist remains chained to the center.

Your bus, the number 59, never came. Jeongguk’s, number 60, was the last one that came due to the thickness of the snow and he said that you should get on with him so you don’t freeze on the bus stop. I’ll drive you home on my bike, he promised. I got a helmet for you. And you agreed, despite the fact your thumb was ready to dial Yoongi’s number, because it came natural to you to follow a male’s order.

You scratch your fingernails through your scalp, waking yourself up from the stupor, and you take a deep breath. You’re here and you’re safe. Jeongguk is the safest person you can go behind Yoongi’s back with. These are the words you internally repeat to yourself as you lift one leg and the other, watching where they take you.

You wind up at the very edge of the counter where all of Jeongguk’s essentials lay scattered. You go to study all the charms hung over his keys when your fingers, somehow instinctively, take a hold of his pink vape. Light and pink, fitting just right in the palm of your hand. Your clandestine habits are invariably seen by Jeongguk, however.

“Don’t puff on that,” he says, pouring the boiling water inside the kettle over your cup of tea. A Christmas-themed one, evidently for adults only. The taupe Gingerbread man has a raging, bare boner that sticks out to the side whilst his hands are lifted, cheerfully, in the air. Your mouth parts, blush coloring your cheeks in dusty pink, and your brain, bizarrely, connects the Gingerbread man’s emotion to Jeongguk—both emotions, in fact. So bizarrely that anger begins to grow in you because a picture of Jeongguk’s own happy boner pops up before your eyes. Big, hard, leaking. Your stifling heat descends to your lower regions and you have to rub your eyelids in order to stop seeing it, your cheeks scalding, embarrassingly hot. “It’s not good to mix it.”

Without asking, he places one spoon of sugar inside that obscene cup, stirring it diligently. And the clinking noise rams a clapping monkey inside your brain.

You’ll die. From this headache, from the heat, from how irresistible this boy is.

You’ve never felt this way before towards him. Never seen him in this lustful light before. And you don’t know what to do—it’s towering you, so much bigger than you and you have very little strength to stand up to it.

It’s not good to see your so-called friend like this.

Jeongguk brings the cup over to you, placing it before his stuff. The Gingerbread man faces you, smiling ever so gleefully, and the blush of your cheeks deepens within this proximity. Jeongguk takes his vape from your hand and puffs on it—and your brain remembers what he just talked about.

“But you mix it,” you say, your words dripping with confusion, and Jeongguk places the device back into your palm, the tips of his fingers brushing against your flesh. You regard it as intimate, that brief physical contact, and it speeds up your heartbeat.

That touch-starved you are.

“I shouldn’t, but I do,” he responds, his pretty eyelashes static, unblinking, those macadamia chocolate pools of his penetrating your pupils. “I try to stick to just one from time to time, but my nerves are asking for more.”

You look down at the pink device, imagine it’s his hand that you’re closing your fingers over. Think his explanation has zero backbone, and so your confusion drips on.

“Nerves?” you inquire, a wrinkle appearing between your brows akin to his, even though his has been smoothed out. It seems his act of service to you is slowly easing his sombreness.

Jeongguk doesn’t want to elaborate, though. He flicks his eyes towards the cup and nods, just once, encouraging you to drink. You let out a quiet huff of a scoff. Consider it strange that he’s so unwilling to expand on this matter when he has shared with you in the past the reason behind his smoking habit. Trauma from his relationship with Ka-eun and the difficulty of his field. What else is behind those nerves of his that you can’t know about?

You follow the trace of his gaze towards the cup, feeling smaller than you are. Incompetent, inexperienced for the vivacity, immensity of his life that looks nothing like yours. Your pointer finger pokes out, clicking against the emerald green handle.

“Am I supposed to really drink from this?” you murmur, meaning it as a joke that would fix what you cooked in this situation, but it comes out much sadder than you planned, the hollowness from all of your lacks coating your vocal cords.

Jeongguk scowls and turns the cup around, his brows springing upwards as he glances at the naked and aroused Gingerbread man. You begin to anticipate his laughter that would make you feel worse about yourself, but it never breezes through.

Actually, Jeongguk apologizes. Makes a big deal out of it.

“My God,” he sighs, adding your name, running his fingers through his hair before he puts the cup away, but you stop him by enveloping your fingers across the warm, naked skin of his forearm. His eyes widen en route to yours and he holds the misting cup in his hand, immune to its hot temperature. The good ones don’t get burned, your mother would say with hatefulness whenever your fingers would get burned by steaming cups and hot running water in the sink, and she proves you right in this moment. You bet she smiles in her grave, seeing from the afterlife that you are indeed bad while the others are good. “I didn’t notice. I have one just like this, but he’s dressed. I thought I’d pulled out that one. I’m sorry.”

But you’re not scandalized by it. As a matter of fact, you like the little Christmas man—there’s something oddly comforting about his own comfort in his sexuality, smiling as gleefully as he is. What you said was a stupid joke, one that shouldn’t have left your mouth.

“No, I don’t mind. It’s fine. It was just a joke,” you say, hurriedly, sweeping your eyes over his in the same pace whilst he remains calmly staring at you, a steady stream of thoughts filtering through those features of his that you wish you knew the contents of.

You always said you’d die for knowledge, and right now you’d die to discover what he’s thinking about, looking at you the way that he is.

He flattens his lips. “I’ll make you another one.”

He turns around and you yelp your disagreement, cupping your hands around his. And the greater intimacy of this physical contact consumes you whole.

The heat grows, your spine wet with perspiration. Jeongguk swivels his head back, the shorter pieces of his hair swooshing past his forehead, landing on those pretty, pretty eyelashes. And it’s his turn to part his mouth, for blush to creep up his pale cheeks, and your heart—it melts.

You’ve never held hands with a boy before. And right now, you’ve come very close to doing it. In fact, the tender grip bears the resemblance of hand holding and you can’t take it.

A pained, indistinct pout quivers on your lips. A characteristic expression of yours, which conveys that something has hurt you. Your mother would give you a hard time because of it and that’s how you learned that you do it. That’s how you learned how to fleetly hide it, too.

This is the closest you’ll ever get.

Tears rush to your waterline. You blink it away, stretching your lips into a little, neutral smile. The scent of cinnamon and cloves from the tea hits your nostrils and from the edges of your palms, you feel how hot the cup really is. It sobers you up quite rapidly.

“It’s hot, set it down,” you breathe and don’t let go of his hands until Jeongguk complies, the pensiveness back to shadowing his face, but he’s not unapproachable, not at all. The entirety of his dispirited and contrite aura is welcoming, pastel blue instead of that grayish undertone, and he looks at you as if you held the entire world in your palms and he was content with just being near it, silently hoping you show him grace and give it to him.

But that’s not you. You’re too small to cup this world. Too stupid, too unfledged.

It’s him who’s flown around it, deeply acknowledged with it. Who’s smart, who’s a full-fledged bird, unlimited and unhindered.

It’s you who should be looking at him like that and drinking from his vulgar cup.

And you shall.

“I’ll drink it, it’s cute.”

He doesn’t trust it, though, and that’s the scar Ka-eun carved into the flesh of his mind. You brush the pads of your fingers across it, however, when you take the scalding cup to your lips, blow on it and take a small, hesitant sip of it. And the wintry taste of cinnamon and cloves, it is the sap to your tree.

You hum in delight, taking another sip, even though the temperature burns the tip of your tongue. You watch as Jeongguk’s brows twitch and as a certain glimmering glint of endearment laced with unbelief fills his eyes with the canvas of stars. He straightens his spine while you swallow, his lungs inhaling and exhaling slowly but surely.

It is a sight to behold, the entirety of his boyish beauty. And you hate that you regard him this way, that your forced visit caused this because you’ll walk out of this door with a longing entwined around your heart.

A longing for him to be yours.

You set the cup down, cradling it in your palms, your sweat clinging to your body. Jeongguk averts his gaze and rubs his chest, roaming his eyes everywhere but on you, landing on the pink vape you placed on the counter before almost-holding his hand.

But he doesn’t take a puff of it. Not this time.

And you want to heal that scar of his even more. Only because he pushed you very close to the things you read in your books and always wanted to experience.

“I think the tea tastes so good because you made it in this cup,” you chirp, tenderly, giving him a genuine smile, one that Jeongguk doesn’t reciprocate. That one corner of his mouth doesn’t lift, the long cleft of his dimple doesn’t appear. Your heart trembles for a brief moment. In a foreign kind of emotion that feels like fear but isn’t because the turmoil in him rages on and you’re useless. Completely and utterly useless in your efforts.

His stare is deadly, marked by the depth of his thoughts.

“Why did you say war happens if you and your brother see each other outside?” he asks, his tone low and grumbling.

A frightening question. Because no one has ever asked you that. Because you’ve never had the chance to answer such an intimate, personal question. Because no one has ever cared about your home situation.

The trembling of your heart reaches your entire body and you hide your hands behind your back. Lament that you can’t cradle the cup. Lament that you can’t drink it and postpone your response. Lament that you don’t have a normal life. One worth talking about happily, that is.

You don’t know what to say. How to begin, how to string the words together in a way that he would understand. And it’s not that you fear that he will judge you; it’s that you fear that the way he looks at you, regards you will forever change.

You were never the cool girl and you never were the weird girl, either. Somewhere in the middle you stand, solitary and detached, regardless.

You open your mouth, willing the words to spring out of you on their own, without any careful thoughts to cover them.

“Yoongi wants me to live a life that doesn’t look like this,” you start, mirroring his tone, unable to look him in the eye. You sense the demons of your guilt and your ungratefulness cornering you, coming closer and closer—and you can’t walk away, you can only speak.

Jeongguk, however, is quick and curt with his following question.

“Like what?”

The pearls of your perspiration thicken on the planes of your throat, which constricts. You blink, thinking that you don’t wish to offend him with any formulation of your sentences. So you go around it, hoping he understands. The demons inch closer—and you can’t breathe.

Jeongguk doesn’t blink, focused intently as he is on the emotions written on your form. It creates a delicate, yet protective ring around you that keeps the demons outside. And he lessens your strange fear owing to that.

“He wants me to focus on school and focus on my dream while he takes care of everything else. It was a deal he made between us. I study, he works. Nothing else,” you continue, and Jeongguk bites his lip, nodding in understanding as he glides his eyes down your face to your sweat-coated neck. For some reason, that little act of his acknowledgement dispels those demons—and you no longer feel guilty, you no longer feel ungrateful because Jeongguk validated those emotions, didn’t scrunch his nose at them. And that heals, little by little, your wounded, flightless bird wings.

“What does your dream look like?” he asks once again, and you wonder at the formulation of his question. It’s not what’s your dream; he’s asking for a description of the biggest mystery of your life.

And you chuckle, humorlessly. Jeongguk flicks his gaze back to your eyes, seemingly not knowing what to expect.

“That’s the thing,” you say. “I don’t know what it looks like, and Yoongi doesn’t know either.”

The roundness of his eyelids spasms, as if the truth you just uttered irks him. The validation grows and buds of blossoms sprout open, in the middle of this sunless winter, upon the twigs of the tree within you.

“He doesn’t know what your dream is and yet he decided how you should live,” Jeongguk scoffs, shaking his head, and you marvel at the light bursting in your sternum. It is the sun to your growth, to your tree’s growth.

A moment of bliss that is too brief, for you begin to sense an uncompromising responsibility to stand up for your brother. He means well—he’s doing it out of the love and kindness of his heart as the root of this declared problem is literature.

And literature is your life. It’s all you know.

You begin to say these words, but Jeongguk interrupts you.

“I understand, but you need to live a life that you want to live,” he rasps, standing taller than he was a minute ago, greater and powerful than he ever was. That confident and assured he is in his opinion and you gawk at him as if he were a cult leader, about to change the course of your life. Maybe, just maybe, the cinnamon tea was the kool aid—and you want to drink again, but you’re ashamed of the trembling of your hands. “And if you feel like you’re indebted to him, you shouldn’t. You’re an adult. It’s your life, it’s not his just because he’s older.”

Your throat dries and you risk it all, enveloping your fingers around the cup. Jeongguk’s all seeing eye notices your movement and his powerfulness drops. He sighs, rubbing his eyes.

Bare, bare you are all for him to see. For anyone for the first time in your life—and at this point, you don’t even know how it makes you feel.

Where light and so many emotions were inside you, emptiness falls like fine dust. You’re reminded of that one sentence in White Nights and, quietly, you reflect on it while your fingers tremble on.

My God, a moment of bliss. Why isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime?

Jeongguk makes space, like the ring of protection he created around you, by taking a few steps back and leaning against the counter. He crosses his arms over his chest and simply looks at you, reads your body language, and lingers at your hands. At the fact you don’t drink. At the fact you don’t speak. At the fact that nothing will ever be the same after this conversation.

When he asks his last question, he softens his voice. His demeanor, too. Allows his arms to plummet down to his sides. Sags against the counter.

“He doesn’t know we’re friends, does he?”

Something that resembles a cry leaves your mouth and you’re so shocked by the freedom of your emotions that your hand leaps to cup your mouth, as if to hold back any more outpouring. That is your reaction.

Jeongguk’s is more earth-shattering.

By his instinct, he lengthens his spine and his hand… his beautiful, strong and veiny hand jerks towards your direction, as if to catch your hand, prevent it from hiding your outpouring—or as if to catch your outpouring alone.

And it is so heartbreaking to you that you mutter the first thing that comes to your mind and run away.

And you don’t realize where you are until you get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. A mascara tear stains your cheek in blackness, and the smallness of the bathroom encloses around you.

You want to wash it away. Feel like the decision is yours to make, a right one at that. Feel like it’s the first step in the new way Jeongguk bestowed over your life by his wise words. And so you undress.

And you don’t lock the door.

And you don’t hear your phone ringing ten minutes later.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

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yeoslattes · 10 months ago

Text

Happy Ending Status: Pending

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6.7k

Pairings: Underground Artist!Mingi x fem!reader

Summary: Mingi was not what your family and friends wanted for you. Reality was becoming too real and maybe they were right but you struggled to leave him.

Songs to listen to: Tunnel-Song Mingi, Star Shopping-Lil Peep, Romantic Homicide-D4vd

Warnings: TW! Toxic relationship tendencies, toxic Mingi, smut, lots of crying, slight slow burn, weed use, financial issuesMingi is pretty bad to her at the beginning, he's lowkey a bum, Mingi yells at her once, simp!Mingi, one of his friends makes a bad comment abt reader, Wooyoung is an asshole, reader is a good girl, he's possessive of her, soft Dom!Mingi, oral m receiving, big dick Mingi (lets be real), gagging, lots of spit, slight throat fucking, Mingi holds her down a couple of times, choking, unprotected sex asf, creampie, Mingi cries after sex, use of slut like once, praising

A/N: *big sigh* something about the plot was so hard to write for me lol. I had mentioned that I didn't want to make Mingi too toxic but in the editing process it was almost inevitable so I had to do what I had to do to make it work. He's not scary, he's just a big simp in this lmao. I added songs as well, Star Shopping is what inspired me and Tunnel is what I imagine Mingi looking like in this, Romantic Homicide is for the vibes. Also to clear up any confusion, she's in college bc her parents pay for it aside from that she gets no allowance from them, since she wanted to move with Mingi so bad her parents let her fend for herself (stupid girl). I hope you Pookies enjoy, as always thank you for all the love mwah <3

The bass boomed through the entire establishment. The floor shook, soundwaves rolling up your body. A small smile plays at your lips at the sight of your boyfriend performing on stage. Your eyes curiously watched the girls in the front row who were ready to risk it all for Song Mingi.

The song comes to an end and people cheered loudly, you clap for your boyfriend as he comes off stage pressing a kiss against your lips. “I have some business to deal with first baby, I’ll be back soon.” You nod and clutch the jacket draped over your arms, suddenly feeling exposed now that Mingi had left you.

You take a seat, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, soon enough Mingi comes back looking more pissed than ever. His eyebrows are drawn together with a stoic expression replacing his usual smile. Your face falls, “hey what’s going on?” You ask worriedly, placing a hand on his arm. He shakes his head, “he’s not paying me.” He grumbles, you feel your heart sink. “Mingi that’s not okay-“ you begin, but he ignores you, instead walking towards Yunho and Hongjoong who were standing beside the stage.

Your lips subconsciously fall into a pout, trailing after him. You knew how Mingi was when he was upset and the fact that he was with friends didn’t help either; you hated who he became when he was around them. Walking a couple steps behind them and excusing yourself as you walked through the crowd, you watched as Yunho whispered something in Mingi’s ear. Your boyfriend nods and turns to look at you. “I’ll be right back babe.” He says not even giving you time to respond. You stand alone for a second time tonight. You huff plopping down on one of the booth seats.

You wait and wait, it had been almost 25 minutes since Mingi had left. Your eyes skimmed the crowd in search of him with no luck. He’d blown you off, when you figured he really wasn’t coming back you got up and started looking for him. Your heart felt like it was hanging by the finest thread, one minimal tug and it’d be gone. You spent the majority of your night pushing through sweaty bodies looking for your missing boyfriend.

Everyone sported leather, dark eyeliner, piercings, while the darkest color on your outfit was the pleated black skirt and black tights you had worn, your cashmere sweater being no fit to the aesthetic. Your hands were starting to shake, and your breathing became slightly labored as you continued to skim the club for a tall Mingi.

People had started to notice you, giving you weird looks as you kept making rounds around the club. Your mind began to race, the more you looked the more you felt like the crowd was close to swallowing you up. You spot the exit and make a beeline for it, your tears already falling freely down your cheeks. “E-excuse me.” You mumbled pushing through a couple, the girl looked at you, her eyebrow piercing moving up as she cocked her brow up at your state. Stepping out into the fresh air you finally felt like you could breathe.

***

Your white sneakers heavily hit the ground, dirty water soaking the mid rise crew socks you wore from all the puddles you had stepped in but you didn’t care. You continued your journey back to yours and Mingi’s apartment. You quickly went up the stairs to the second floor, ducking your head as you passed your creepy neighbor who’s eyes never left your shivering frame. You unlocked the door and slammed it shut behind you with a loud sigh. The wooden door creaked under your weight as you rested against it. You feel a knot forming in your throat and you can't help the sob that rips through you. Your legs give out and you melt down into a puddle of tears. Your hand clutches your phone tightly, looking at the absurd amount of times you had dialed Mingi, each one going straight to voicemail.

You numbly pick yourself up off the floor and go into the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror you almost feel bad for yourself; but this was the life you had chosen. Your hair is frizzed up and your makeup is basically gone. You begin reflecting on what your life had become, the voices of your parents and friends echoed through your head, and you were truly starting to believe that you should've listened to them. After standing your ground against them for so long and always defending Mingi, things were not what they seemed anymore, nothing like the delusions you had put in your head. And so now here you were, heart hanging by a thread as you desperately waited for your boyfriend to come home; no clue on his whereabouts or who he was with aside from his friends.

***

You had met Mingi freshman year of university, you were enamoured with who he was, with the way he dressed, all dark and mysterious yet sweet and cunning. Mingi knew right away he wasn’t someone your family particularly wanted for you, not as a friend and much less as a boyfriend. They hated Mingi’s lifestyle and were confused on how you could be so enthralled with someone like him. Someone who barely made it in college, who was obsessed with making it big in the music industry and would rather focus on that than a promising career. However, the way he spoke about his passion for music made you believe in him and for a second you did, until a couple months turned into a year, and a year turned into 2 and now at almost 3 years barely anything had changed. You convinced yourself it was fine, but reality was catching up to you quickly.

Truth was, you and Mingi were broke, you could barely afford rent and food was scarce majority of the time. Frugal wasn’t even the word to describe how tight you two were with money. You hated this life, coming from a well off family, you had never struggled with money this way. You never minded working to earn your money, but even while working it still was not enough. With your last required courses to graduate, you had to cut back on your hours, leaving only Mingi working full time. The little amount of money he made, he’d spend on music equipment and recording studio fees that he clearly couldn't afford. At some point the little amount of money you had saved up, you had to start using to buy groceries and home essentials. By the time you rechecked your savings you had nothing.

***

Your body cried for sleep, the longer you tried to stay awake the more your body fought against you that eventually you fell asleep on the couch. Around 2:30 in the morning, the front door unlocks and in walks Mingi, quietly looking around for you. When he doesn’t hear any noise he pads further into the room. He’s startled when he spots your sleeping form on the couch. Clearly you had been waiting for him, and he felt terribly bad that he had blown you off at some random club that you had never been to. Mingi was good at being impulsive and acting on his emotions rather than thinking logically. Of course he was pissed that the gig host had ripped him off but that didn’t mean had the right to ditch you; and only now that his cloudy head was clearing up did he realize that.

He sighs and leans over the back of the couch, resting a hand on your arm. He shakes you slightly, slowly you rise from your slumber. You squint, waiting for your eyes to adjust and focus on the person in front of you. When you realize it’s Mingi you fly off the couch, backing away from him. “Ba-” He starts, “It’s almost 3am and now you wanna ‘baby’ me?” He straightens up and throws his head back in annoyance, knowing exactly where this was going. “I’m tired, I don't want to do this right now.” He grumbles walking towards the bedroom.

Sadness fills you at his dismissive behavior; there's no way he doesn’t care, you thought. Your lips contort into a frown, “Mingi…what is wrong with you?” You say quietly, the knot returning to your throat. You trail after him once again like a lost puppy. He shakes his head, “nothing princess.” But you didn’t believe him. He pulls his shirt off and looks at your small frame lingering by the door. He takes in your disheveled appearance and his gaze softens. “I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’t have left you there.” He says, his heart feeling heavy at your sadness. You had nothing to do with how his gigs went, therefore, you should be the last person he should be getting mad at. When you sniffle slightly and look down he walks over to you, his large frame engulfing you completely. You inhale the smell of weed and faded cologne in, feeling yourself get drunk off him; and just like that things were okay again for the time being.

***

Not even a week later you and Mingi were caught in a screaming match. “It’s not my fault these places don't pay me.” He argues.” You stared at him hard, feeling your eyes twitch from pure anger. “Actually it is your fault, cause you keep agreeing like a dumbass not knowing what you’re getting into. And you look even dumber buying more recording equipment that we clearly cannot afford.” This time you argued over the fact that he hadn’t gotten paid yet again, while he kept spending money on useless equipment. “Well it is my money.” Mingi retorts desperately trying to find a way to put this argument to bed. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, you felt completely hopeless. “Well if it's your money then you find a way to pay for this apartment, and do everything yourself because I am leaving.”

In full panic, anger and everything in between you stormed into your shared room. You pull a pink duffle bag that your parents had gifted you and begin stuffing all the clothes and belongings you could fit. You run back into the kitchen and grab a trash bag to throw makeup, jewelry and shoes; everything else that couldn’t fit into the straining duffle bag.

You aggressively wipe your tears, pausing when you spot Mingi blocking the doorway. “Where are you going?” He asks, his eyes slightly wide, “I don’t want to be here anymore” You mumbled, attempting to zip up the bag that was clearly too over filled. He shakes his head, panic rising within him, he comes close to you and you step back. He shakes his head rapidly, “You’re not leaving me!” He screams, making you flinch. His breathing is heavy, tears pooling in his eyes. “Please baby, I’m sorry. You’re right, okay, you’re right.” He begs, big hands reaching for yours but you pull back.

“Mingi…stop it, I’m tired of the excuses okay? I‘m tired.” You say quietly. You eyes can’t meet his, scared that you were going to change your mind. “I just don’t see us going anywhere anymore…” His brows furrow at your words, “what are you talking about.” He whimpers,

“Stop it!” You yell, he takes a step back startled at your loudness. “Stop acting like you don’t see how shitty our lives are. I need you to get your shit together please.” You wipe the tears that are still running down your cheeks, “Be realistic for once Mingi.” You grab your duffel to which Mingi grips onto the traps as well, blocking you off from the door. “Let go.” You grit, yanking the bag from his grip. He stumbles back slightly. He watches you leave, eyesight blurry from the salty liquid, “you’ll be b-back.” He chokes up. But he actually wasn’t sure about that anymore.

Mingi fell in love with you from the second he saw you, you were just so…you. It was a feeling he couldn’t describe. He always knew the thing he liked the most about you two as a pair was the fact that you were so opposite. He had tattooed his hands and neck with some of the prettiest tattoos you had ever seen. He always wore rings that decorated his big hands all pretty, and of course the staple that was his black polish.

You on the other hand were so clean for lack of a better word. The colors you wore were always as bright as the sky on a sunny day, in contrast to Mingi’s daily color palette. You were like a breath of fresh air, and he wanted you, he craved you. Eventually he got you, the road was rough with your parent’s disapproval and what not, but you two persevered; he got you to move in with him and his plans on making it big in the music industry were definitely going, except he was getting nowhere; it was like a journey with no end.

Mingi felt that no matter what he tried, however he tried it, there was always something in the way. He was paying for studio sessions, recording song after song to release and perform at gigs, and even though he spent loads of money on those studio fees he hoped for the day that he wouldn't have to worry about money anymore. But the process was easier said than done because he knew how tired you were of him not being able to give it a rest. Aside from all of that and being aware of your feelings he always thought you’d stick around for a bit longer for him to show you he could do it.

He saw the way he had drained the life out of you, your once glowy skin had been replaced by dullness. Your once vibrant eyes had turned sad accompanied by dark circles and bags. He had ruined you.

***

Today marks 1 month since you left. Mingi had been rotting away in his apartment, only leaving the house to work, then coming back, showering, eating whatever he could find and going to bed. He had lost count of how many times he had called and texted you. But it seemed that you had blocked him. He didn’t know what to do with himself, he hadn’t spoken to his friends or gone out in a while. He’d cut himself off completely. “Get your shit together.” Your words echoed, your pretty face stained with tears as you looked up with hurt in your eyes ingrained in his brain.

Mingi laid on the couch, eyes dazed off into space from the blunt he had smoked. When all of a sudden…“Mingi?” A voice called faintly in his head, “Jesus Mingi.” The voice said again except this time he felt hands shake him. He looked at his friend who removed him from the daydream.

“What the hell is going on man? I’ve been trying to reach you.” Yunho said desperately, “I thought you were dead.” The panicked friend said, looking around with wide eyes at the mess in the apartment. “She- she left.” Mingi mumbles, sticking his face into his hands. Yunho’s face softens, “oh-.” Had he known, he would have approached him in a more gentle manner.

“I’m sorry Mingi.” It’s the only thing that comes to mind. Awkward silence fills the air, Yunho having no idea what else to say. “How’s it going?” Mingi suddenly asks. Yunho shrugs, “some group that played frequently at Cyberpunk Club got a record deal a couple weeks back. You’ve missed a lot man.” At Yunho’s words, Mingi’s heart drops, of course, he thought. It would never be him, and now that you were gone it didn’t matter to him anymore; he’d given up.

Mingi sniffles slightly, standing up and adjusting his dark jeans, “I have work in an hour so imma head out now.” He didn’t mean to be dismissive but he couldn’t bear thinking about his losses right now. The dark haired man stands up, a perplexed look on his face. “Oh right, well there’s a party tonight let me know if you’ll be there. It could be good, you know, to get out of the house for a while.” Yunho wears a tight lipped smile searching Mingi’s face for some type of life or excitement but he gets nothing. “Yeah I’ll let you know.” Yunho waves goodbye and closes the door quietly behind him leaving Mingi with his thoughts again. He grabs his phone and dials you again, your call has been forwarded to automated vo- he hangs up, annoyance rising up within him. It was pointless now, you weren’t going to speak to him ever again, he accepted defeat and grabbed the small backpack he always carried to work and headed over.

The strip mall was busy, no surprise as it was only Saturday. The customers came in periodic waves, right now Mingi sat in boredom as a single customer sat in the shop sipping on her smoothie. Mingi rests his chin in the palm of his hand, scrolling through your instagram. You may have blocked his number but you had forgotten him on social media. In that moment he’s about to message you when suddenly a loud cackle catches his attention. He looks up expecting to see a random person walking by, but his heart drops when he spots you. As always you were dressed in light colors, you looked good, you looked better. His heart sinks lower, bile rising up his throat the longer you lingered outside with your group of friends.

Your glow had returned, you looked so alive and happy; he was selfish so in a way he hated that. This was his chance to speak to you, since you had been neglecting him for so long now, not even bothering to come by to pick up some of the stuff you had left behind. He hops off the stool, smoothening down the apron he wore. He steps outside, the door opening catching your attention, your face falls at the slightly disheveled state of your once lover.

Your friends all fall silent, eyes drifting between Mingi and you. “Um, I’ll catch up to you guys, give me a sec.” You say, the closest girl standing to you, places her hand on your forearm. “Hey ar-” she starts but you wave her off, “it’s okay, I’ll catch up.” You say plastering a smile. You watch as your friends walk away, when there’s decent distance between you and them you turn to Mingi.

“Mingi-.” You looked up at him with big eyes, a wave of sadness overcoming you. “Hey, glad to know you’re doing okay. Also didn’t know you had guards now.” He says. He doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding aggressive but it does. Surprise flashes in your face momentarily at his harsh tone, but could you blame him?

Deciding you didn’t want to deal with this you turn around to walk away but he stops you, wrapping his hand around your bicep. “Wait, I’m sorry. I’ve been on edge.” He apologizes, you nod silently, waiting for him to continue.

“I just want to talk about…us.” Mingi pleads with big eyes, you pause for a moment. Your eyes linger on the clear lid of your coffee cup, when you don’t say anything Mingi proceeds. “I just wish you’d given me a chance to talk it out with you, but you just upped and left.” He sounds slightly irritated, and that’s when you crack, “no disrespect Mingi, but that’s very audacious of you. Every single argument or discussion we've had about this you have told me the same thing yet you don’t bother to change it. My patience ran thin.”

Mingi tongues his cheek, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking out into the parking lot; deep down he knew you were right. He stays silent for a moment, your words hanging in the air, “I just want you back, we can work on it together.” You shake your head, when he sees you take a step back his hands reach out for you again, hovering above your shoulders, never quite making contact, “don’t leave please.” He begged, people walking by turned to look at the exchange. “Mingi.” You whisper yell looking around slightly embarrassed at the unnecessary attention. “Can we not do this?”

“Come over so we can talk please. At least give me that and I won’t bother you again.” He promises, but you and him both knew it was a lie. “No matter how much I want to get back with you, I won’t until you get your shit together.” You remind him, “and about me coming over…I don’t know.” Mingi frowns at your words, “do you have someone else already is that it?” You’re shocked at the way he jumps to conclusions. “Mingi that is not it, it’s just…kind of weird if we are trying to get over each other.” He rolls his eyes, “speak for yourself, but I’m not trying to get over you. I won’t stop until I get you alone at least one more time. There’s so much we need to talk about.” You wanted to stand on business but for some reason he always had you giving in. You toss your head back, a slight groan ripping from your throat. You nod your head ‘yes’, swallowing hard and meeting his eyes, “okay.” Your voice is airy from slight nerves.

He watches your back as you walk away from him once more; except this time under different circumstances. When he steps back into the smoothie shop, his face drops at the scowl his manager gives him and the long line of customers waiting for their order to be taken. “Glad to know you resolve your relationship problems while on the clock.” The stubby man says to him.

After his shift Mingi flops on his bed, he closes his eyes, the clear picture of your face behind his eyelids, and he smiles sheepishly. You two had left it that you’d be the one letting him know when you were free given your tight schedule. Mixed in with his happiness is a tinge of anger and fear. Anger because suddenly you didn’t have time for him and fear because he didn’t want you seeing anyone else, you could’ve been lying about that for all he knew. He whips his phone out when it vibrates, hoping it’d be you but it’s Yunho telling him to come to the party. He dials your number for a second time that day and when it goes straight to voicemail the slight happiness he felt fades away. Why hadn’t you unblocked him? He wonders. His mind races, desperately looking for reasons to feel better but when nothing comes to mind he gets up abruptly and changes out of his work clothes and into a casual outfit.

***

Now here was Mingi at a random house party, a girl on one side of him as he conversed with Wooyoung Yunho, and Hongjoong. “I heard your ex girl moved into a nice ass apartment in the city.” Wooyoung says, peeling a pistachio and tossing it in his mouth. He looks at Mingi waiting for him to say something but he keeps his reaction bottled in, she didn’t mention that, he thinks. Yunho slaps Wooyoung’s arm, bringing a hand under his chin and waving it, signaling Wooyoung to cut it out. “Sensitive topic I see,” Yunho rolls his eyes as the shorter man keeps nagging on. “Nah it doesn’t matter.” Mingi suddenly says, one of his hands traveling further down to rest on the random girl's waist. Mingi felt disappointed in himself, angry that the girl next to him wasn’t you. But since you had yet to unblock him, he figured you wouldn’t anyway and said a big fuck it to the universe and got himself a temporary distraction.

Wooyoung smirks, “yeah it’s probably daddy’s money.” He says, Mingi chuckles, sipping on his beer, “definitely daddy’s money.” Mingi disses; Yunho looks at him with a confused expression, this was the same man that was crying over you a couple hours ago.

“Crazy you were hitting that Mingi, should’ve kept her around if she has big bucks like that.” At Wooyoung’s words, Mingi’s face drops, “you better fucking watch it.” He points a finger at the dark haired man. “Who gives a shit man you’re not with her anymore.” He presses on, Mingi stands up and leaves. Yunho shakes his head at Wooyoung. “Shut the fuck up rat, you always ruin everything.” He spits, Wooyoung chuckles, sinking into the worn down couch sipping on his beer, clearly satisfied at the reaction.

Mingi walks home not taking a second longer to process what was said at the party. He felt icky at the fact that he had even gone. He hated the way they spoke about you, if only they knew how he truly felt for you maybe they wouldn’t have said that. To him you were more than a gorgeous face, more than sex more than anything physical; you were the love of his life.

***

A couple of days after the encounter with Mingi at the mall, you sat on your couch, phone in hand, contemplating whether you wanted to call him or not. You knew how Mingi was, it was clear he was desperate and since you had taken a while to reach out to him the poor guy was losing it. In all honesty you were afraid that talking to him again would have you going back and history would repeat itself. After breaking up with him the first couple of weeks sucked. You stayed in bed all day, dazed off in class and took multiple breaks during your lectures to cry in the bathroom. You missed him so much, and a month later you still did, but you were better; like a heavy load was lifted off your shoulders. You hated that this was the reality you had to face, no matter how much you craved him and wanted him back, it was not ideal.

You sighed, placing your head in your hands, “I just have to do it.” You whispered, hyping yourself up. Here’s my address, just let the front desk person you’re here to see me, they’ll let you through. See you at 5. You pressed send, hands shaking slightly. You felt your lunch coming back up, a pit forming within you. You took a shower, dressed in something cute and casual, why were you getting ready? You had no idea, actually you did, you just liked lying to yourself.

“Good afternoon miss, Song Mingi is here to see you.” The front desk person said into the phone, “that’s okay let him through.” You reply, hanging up and wiping your clammy hands on your pants.

Pounding on your door makes you jump slightly. When you pull the door open Mingi stands there. “Oh hey.” You greet in a breathy tone trying your best to be casual, you pull the door open wider. He steps through, immediately looking around at your apartment that was nowhere near close to what your shared space looked like. “Nice place.” He says admiring the art decorating the walls, and gawking at the view into the city.

While he was busy with that you took a second to drink him. As always he was dressed in dark colors, you could tell he had messily applied some eyeliner and shadow on his eyes, adding to the grunge look he sported. He looked extremely good, and you wanted to slap yourself. “Thank you, my parents helped me out.” You locked the door and followed him further into the living room area. “Okay Mingi, I don’t mean to sound hasty but why are you truly here?” You looked at him curiously, interested in what he had to say and praying it wasn’t the same bull crap he’d said many times before. “I want you back.” He said boldly, “Min-.” He suddenly stands up, looming over your sitting form, your eyes go wide with surprise, “no! You don’t understand how much I need you in my life. I’ve been fucking miserable since you left. You got me reflecting on my entire fucking existence. Trying to figure out what I can do to fix this. I’m in love with you, you know that already, but I’m convinced you’re the love of my life and I'd be willing to give up my music if that means I get to have you back.” You sat there speechless, your legs and arms completely numb feeling like you weren't allowed to move. The man who always felt sheepish speaking his emotions to you was suddenly boasting in your living room about how you were the love of his life and you didn’t know what to do. He stares at you with puppy eyes, waiting for you to say something, his face falling at your extended silence. You stand up to face him, your soft hands coming up to his flushed cheeks. You watch him melt into your touch, “I know that right now I’m not really worth it. But please let me show you.” He opens his eyes back up, his big brown orbs boring into yours.

Your teeth sink into your pink lips and you nod up at him. You push on your tippy toes and he leans down to meet your lips; you had folded. Large hands come to grip your biceps to pull you slightly back. You fall back flat on your feet looking up at him with that stare that always drove him insane, the very one he fell in love with way back when. He pulls you back in, pressing his lips against yours again, the kiss grows hungrier as the seconds tick by.

He’s tugging on your sweatpants that were a size too big, easily sliding them off you. They pool at your feet, his hands come and grip on the flesh of your ass, his cold rings leaving a slight indentation on the supple skin. You groan into his mouth, enjoying the feeling of him all over you. “Mingi.” You whimper, pulling away from him to look into his dark eyes, “did you miss me princess?” He coos lowly, you pout and nod all morals gone out the door; you just wanted him.

You didn’t care about your decision on the status of your relationship or if this would be the last time you saw him like this, that could all wait; what mattered was right now. He pulls you along with him, he freely navigates your apartment, finding your bedroom with no problem. He kisses you again, cornering you into the bed, his large hands cup your face pulling you as close as he could. You grip his wrists pulling them away from your face and pushing him slightly back to take off the bleach designed hoodie he wore. His necklaces fall back against his smooth chest as he pulls the thick hoodie off. He tosses the item somewhere in the carpet of the room before eagerly pulling your tank top off. You sink to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest.

He looks down at you, the liner and shadow somehow making him ten times more attractive. Your thighs press together, your fragile fingers working over time to get the belt off, the buckle is so thick you struggle to undo it. Finally unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down his cock bounces fully erect from the makeout. His hand slides up and down the expanse of his thick cock, “open.” He murmurs, guiding it between your parted lips.

The sheer size stretches your mouth as far as it can go, you fully struggle to take him in. The longer your mouth is open, the more spit pools. You wrap your lips around the tip and suck lightly, coating him in your slobber. Slowly you take him further until he hits the back of your throat, you gag slightly and he groans. His fingers brush your hair back, watching as you struggle to take him all the way back, “good girl baby. Just a little bit more for me.” He says gently placing a hand on the crown of your head to push further into your mouth. You gag again, tears stinging your eyes and spit running down your chin and neck, soaking the edge of the bra you wore. He bucks slightly when you flatten your tongue to run deliciously on the underside of him.

The more your tongue runs on him the more spit coats him, he lets out a choked breath at the sudden change, speeding up his hips slightly until your hands delicately press against his thighs to push back. A thick string of saliva connects from your lips to his tip, finally breaking off when you pull further away. You suck in a breath, trying to calm down the nausea roaming in your stomach from your gag reflex. “You okay?” Mingi hums cupping your wet chin to look up at him. You nod and he smiles, you take him back in your mouth, your small hand working on what you couldnt fit. You take him down your throat. His breathing picks up once again, eyes rolling to the back of his head, when you try to pull back he holds you still. The thick head of his cock lodged in your throat. Finally he lets you pull away, leaving you practically wheezing for air. He helps you up and you rest your back on the bed. Mingi hovers above you, his eyes taking you in as if he hadn’t seen this view a hundred times before, but he always made sure to appreciate it. Mingi tugs your bra down the undergarment now resting around your waist, he plays with the hard buds but you needed him now, so you pull him onto you. Ignoring you were still in your underwear you move it to the side desperately, as if you didn’t have all the time in the world. You take him in your hand guiding him into your wet hole.

He looks down looking where you two would be connecting. Pushing in, you grimace at the slight burn from not having him in you for a long time. You squirm the more he goes in. He holds you down, fully diving into you, “shhh it’s okay baby, you’re taking me so well. My good girl.”

When he hits your hilt you groan, “Mingi please.” He looks at your already fucked out face. He sets a brutal pace, your eyes roll when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. You moan loudly, panting from the lewd activity. Your mouth drops open, and your back arches, his grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you to meet his hips. Your eyes roll back, nails desperately digging into his strong forearms. One of his hands drops from your waist, his tattooed fingers coming up to your mouth. They feel heavy on your wet tongue, he speeds up dragging his fingers out and running his hand down your chin to let it rest on your throat. Your body jolts with every single thrust, inching slightly up the bed every time his hips meet yours.

Mingi’s mind's going a million miles per hour, but at the same time he can't focus on anything else but you under him. He suddenly feels a wave of anger wash over him. His hand tightening on your throat causing your breath to hitch. You felt so high and far away, his dominance causing another rush of slickness to come out of you. “Listen to yourself. So fucking wet.” He groans, pistoning his hips into you. He was angry, angry at mostly himself, but also angry at the thought of you leaving him and finding someone else. “You’re not made for anyone else but me.” He pants, he was selfish with you, you were his everything, and he wanted to make sure you knew; even if this was the last time he’d get to have you like this. “Mi-Mingi, fuck.” You gasp, he suddenly pulls out and urgently flips you on your belly. He hikes your hips up, pulling the ruined cotton panties down and pressing on your back to deepen the arch. He enters you again, sliding in easily. At this point you felt incoherent, all you felt was him. His cock head hits the spongy spot deep within you, it leaves you trembling and seeing stars.

You whimper loudly into the plush sheets beneath you, trying to clutch onto something for dear life. “Good fucking girl baby. Take it, y-you’re doing such a good job.” You gasp at his lewd words. You felt so full, like you could burst at any moment, “fucking play with yourself slut. Make yourself cum all over my dick.” At his words your shaky hand reaches between your legs, pressing your clit the way you liked. You suddenly feel so aware of the sensations coursing through your body, from the feeling of Mingi’s heavy hands and rings on your warm skin to the delicious stretch of his cock, you were close to seeing god.

“You’re about to cum huh baby?” He asks with a mocking tone, “yes Mingi yes, I’m- cum, I’m gon-.” Your words die in your mouth as he clutches onto your hips driving himself into you, your hands reach back to rest on his pubic area trying to get him to slow down, instead he grabs your wrists and pulls you slightly off the bed. He pistons his hips hard, hitting your spot repeatedly, before suddenly slowing down and focusing on deepening himself, the pressure of his cock nestled against your cervix is enough to send you over. Your vision goes white and your ears begin to ring. “Fuck- fuck.” Mingi moans, he cums, unloading himself deep within your velvety walls. He holds your shaking frame, keeping himself warm in you.

When you open your eyes, your vision is slightly hazy, you squint to focus on your surroundings. You turn your head to look at the man who was still deep in you. His gaze is on the ceiling, still recovering from his orgasm. His breathing becomes labored, he sucks in small breaths looking back down at you, you notice the tears pooling in his eyes. Your gaze softens, “Mingi oh my god.” You say softly, your arms come under you to push yourself up. His flaccid cock slips out of you. You cup his face, turning him to look at you. “Hey why are you crying?” You ask even though you had an idea as to why. He sniffles, looking down at the floor, his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you into him.

“Mingi?” You insist, you needed him to say something, anything. “I just don’t know if this is the last time I'll see you. Have you like this, and be this close to you. I don’t think you understand how badly I don’t want to lose you.” He cries into your moistened skin and suddenly you don’t know what to say or do. “I love you Mingi.” It’s the first thing that slips out, he looks up all doe eyed. “Come here,” you say, flipping the duvet to slip under it. He follows suit, you ignore the wetness that has now smeared all over your inner thighs. Your head comes to rest on his chest, fingers playing with the stacked chains around his neck. “I love you baby, but please say something.” He whispers, sniffling slightly. “Hey relax,” you whisper, propping yourself up to look at him. Your hands run through his dark hair, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Now here you were laying in bed once again with the person that had once ruined you emotionally, yet you couldn’t let him go. You didn’t know what was going to happen, but that was tomorrow's problem.

Taglist: @byuntrash101

#ateez smut #mingi smut #hongjoong smut #jongho smut #san smut #seonghwa smut #wooyoung smut #yeosang smut #yunho smut #smut #kpop smut

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maldaptivedreamer · 2 months ago

Text

An Unexpected Visit

Kay lets you sleep in her bed and you get a visitor.

content: Bjorn x fem reader, not proofread, not entirely accurate to alien universe, maybe ooc characters, name calling, referenced incest, bjorn thinking you're his cousin, dub-con, fingering, dirty talking, degrading, praise, cumplay, no condom (be safe)

wc: ~2.1k

a/n: Lmk if I missed any tags. Ignore the fact that the pics are all diff colors lol. Also, did this in a little over a day. Comments & crits welcome!

MINORS DNI NSFW 18+

The sound of a doorknob jostling interrupts your sleep. Your mind is foggy as you slowly wake up. Squinting your eyes, you attempt to rub the crust from them.

Dim light streams in from the open door, allowing you to take in your unfamiliar surroundings. The room is painted a soft blue, with varying posters adorning the walls. The bed is covered in a bright pastel comforter. Knick-knacks and trinkets are scattered on top of the dresser. You’re in Kay’s room.

The door shuts quietly with a click, plunging the room back into darkness. You hear an accented voice, “Shhh, it’s jus’ me.” Confused, you try to turn over but he stops you and climbs into bed behind you.

Through the thin fabric of your shirt, you can feel every contour of his body as he slides it against yours. His desire is evident as he pushes into you. “Jus’ lay there and I’ll take care o’ the rest, yeah?” he says in a hushed tone.

You freeze, not sure what to do. How to respond.

Bjorn reaches beneath your shirt and brushes a hand up your stomach. With cold fingers, he pinches and kneads at your breast. “Loosen up, yeah? It’s jus’ me,” he whispers against your neck before pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin. Each kiss leaves a burning sensation, making you crave more.

Tilting your head back in, you thread your fingers through his soft hair. Gasping, you hold his mouth to your skin.

Bjorn showers more kisses down the length of your neck with a smirk before latching onto the tender flesh and sucking.

Your breath hitches, but Bjorn releases your neck with a loud smack, making you whimper in disappointment. He clicks his tongue, upset that he’s unable to look at the mark he left on your skin in the darkness of the room.

"You've never let me mark you before," his voice dripping with hunger. "Is this you tellin’ me you want it?”

With uncertainty swirling inside of you, you give him a hesitant nod. In response, his predatory grin widens and his fingers tighten on your hips in a bruising grip.

Bjorn's rough hands roam your body with an urgent need. His touch leaves a trail of fire on your heated skin, igniting a desperation you've never felt before. You shudder as his fingers trace the curve of your waist, dipping lower.

"Been waitin’ so long to leave marks of me on your skin. Show everybody you’re taken without tellin’ everybody its your cousin who stuffs you full of cock every night," his voice rasps out in your ear.

You know you shouldn't be doing this - not here in Kay's bed, not with Bjorn. But the forbidden nature of it only heightens your arousal.

You hesitate, torn between giving in to the pleasure and doing what you know is right. But Bjorn's skilled fingers are pressing into you, and a soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. The heat pooling in your core is making it so hard to think straight. His touch feels so good, so right.

"Gonna stuff you full of my cum, love." His hand slides lower, teasing along the waistband of your underwear.

Gasping, you swallow desperate words and allow yourself to guiltily melt into his touch.

Your core clenches as Bjorn slides your panties down your legs. Using his hand, he spreads your wetness over your thighs and stomach, he groans. “Always makin’ a mess, aren’t you?”

He pulls the neck of your shirt to the side to mouth at your shoulder and you whimper. “Always such a whore for me huh? Your pussy’s droolin’ for my cock ain’t she? Need me to clean up your messes for you.”

His words make you flush with arousal and shame. You know this is wrong, but you can't bring yourself to stop him.

You let out a breathy moan as Bjorn's fingers delve deeper, exploring your slick folds. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's feeble protests. Your hips rock against his hand of their own accord, seeking more friction.

Bjorn chuckles darkly. "That's it, show me how much you want it. How much you need your cousin's cock,” he taunts.

He curls his fingers inside you. You bite your lip to stifle a moan.

"Tha's it, let go for me," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "No one has to know. It'll be our little secret. Jus’ like always."

His fingers squelch inside of you as his palm grinds into your clit. Pleasure builds within you as he increases the pressure and speed. You bite your lip to stifle your cries.

Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction. His free hand grips your hip, holding you in place as he grinds himself against you.

"Tell me you want this," Bjorn growls in your ear. "Tell me you need your cousin's cock."

Heat floods your cheeks at his vulgar words, but you can’t. You don’t want to break the illusion now. You can’t.

You remain silent, biting your lip to hold back any incriminating words. Bjorn takes your silence as assent and continues his ministrations, his fingers moving more insistently against your sensitive flesh.

"Always so shy," he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe. "But your body tells me everything I need to know."

His touch has you trembling on the edge of release. You grip the sheets tightly, trying to anchor yourself as waves of pleasure wash over you. Just as you're about to tumble over the precipice, Bjorn suddenly withdraws his hand.

You whimper at the loss of contact, your hips chasing his touch. He chuckles darkly. "Not yet, love. Wanna be inside you when you cum."

You hear the rustle of fabric as Bjorn hastily removes his clothes and you riskily raise to remove the shirt from you body. The material brushing against your pebbled nipples.

The bed shifts as he positions himself against you. The engorged head of his cock pulses with heat against you. He teases himself at your entrance, pearls of precum mixing with your arousal.

Tears form in your eyes and you turn your head into the pillow to stifle your pathetic cries. You attempt to muffle your voice in the pillow and take another risk.

“Please. Need my cousin’s cock.” Each syllable that spills from your lips is slurred, the words muddled. Perhaps too desperate to care and completely consumed by you, he doesn’t realize that you sound nothing like Kay.

Bjorn pushes his cock into you.

Each inch he penetrates is like a sweet agony, the stretch sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body. You gasp at the overwhelming fullness, your walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to keep him inside of you.

The raw feel of his skin against yours makes you drool. Your senses are heightened, and you can feel every vein, every twitch and breath he takes trail down to where you are connected on his cock.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he hisses through gritted teeth. "Always so perfect for me."

He stills for a moment, letting you adjust to him. Then he begins to move, setting a slow, torturous pace.

You bite down on the pillow to muffle your moans as Bjorn picks up speed. Raising your leg, he holds you open for him with a bruising grip on your thigh. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by his grunts and your muffled cries.

"Tha's it, take it," he snarls. "Take your cousin's cock like the good little slut you are."

“I know I told you to lay there and you’ve been a good girl and done just that. But I’m a liar. Need you to spit on those pretty fingers and play with your clit.” He bites into your neck.

You hesitate for a moment, but Bjorn's commanding tone isn’t one you’ll risk ignoring. With trembling fingers, you bring your hand to your mouth and coat them with saliva before reaching down.

As your slick fingers find your swollen clit, a jolt of electric pleasure spreads through you. You rub in tight circles, matching the rhythm of Bjorn's thrusts.

He buries his face in your hair, his hot breath fanning across your neck. "That's it," Bjorn growls approvingly. "Make yourself cum on my cock."

His hips snap faster, driving into you with increasing urgency. The headboard creaks softly with each powerful thrust. You pray the noise doesn't wake anyone else in the house.

Your body trembles and quakes uncontrollably as reach your peak. With a burst of ecstasy, your voice erupted in a wild cry of his name, echoing through the room. Your inner muscles spasm and clench around him, intensifying the sensation as you weep around his cock.

Suddenly, a firm hand seizes your face, its touch both rough and cold against your skin. You can feel the cool metal of his ring pressing into your cheek as he holds you tightly in place.

Tilting your face to his, Bjorn's eyes widen with shock as he realizes you're not Kay. For a moment, he freezes, still buried deep inside you. For a split second you think he might pull out. But then something primal flashes in his gaze and he forces you onto your stomach.

He grabs your throat and pulls you up, his fingers tightening around it and making it difficult to breathe.

"Well, what do we have here?" he purrs with a wicked grin, voice low and dangerous. "Seems I've caught myself a stray in Kay's bed."

His hips start moving again, thrusting into you with renewed vigor. "Thought you were Kay, did you? Lettin’ your cousin have his way with you?" Bjorn taunts. "Such a naugh’y girl. Wha’ would Kay say if she knew? Should I tell her?"

Shame and arousal war within you as Bjorn continues to pound into your oversensitive pussy. You try to squirm away, but his grip on you tightens.

Sucking on his teeth, his voice is mocking. "Oh no, no, no. Where d’you think you’re goin’?” Pulling your face closer to his, he ghosts his lips over your cheek. “I haven’t cum yet and you owe me one. You need to be filled up like the desperate whore you are.”

Nodding, you allow yourself to give in completely. Your voice is breathy, “Okay." You arch your back and your hips shakily rise to meet his thrusts. "Please, want your cum so bad. Wanna be full of it.”

"Fuck," Bjorn grunts. "Should've known t'was you. So much tighter than Kay."

Bjorn's fingers dig into your flesh as he pistons his hips. "Gonna make sure you don’t crave any other cock but mine." he grunts. "My cock’s gonna leave a permanent mark in you tha' no one else will be able to fill."

His possessive words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of concern and twisted excitement. Bjorn's breathing grows ragged as he nears his peak.

With a guttural groan, he slams into you one final time and stills. You feel the hot rush of his cum filling your core. His fingers tense around your neck and you feel yourself cream around his cock again.

Dropping his hand from your neck, he catches his breath against your clammy skin.

Whimpering, you push him back and he slips out of you. Shyly you turn to him, laying on your back. Sweat glistens on his skin and a flush spreads from his face to his cock. Bjorn’s on his knees with his legs spread. He looks gorgeous as the morning light shines through the window, outlining his figure.

Swallowing, you spread your legs and present yourself to him. His eyes darken further and he stops breathing for a moment. Laughing darkly, he moves to you, licking his swollen lips. “Was right about you bein’ a whore. Look at you.”

He leans over you, supporting himself on one arm and moves to kiss you, but you take his hand and press it to the mess of you. You break eye contact with him when you collect the cum and use his fingers to fuck it back into yourself. Bjorn watches with hazed blue eyes as your eyes roll back and you lips part in a loud moan.

Bjorn's spent cock twitches with lust as he watches you push his cum back inside you.

"Fuck," he growls, voice rough with desire. "You really are insatiable, aren't yah?"

You whimper in response, too far gone to form coherent words. Bjorn's fingers curl inside you, your cunt still slick and swollen.

"Such a greedy little cunt," he taunts. "Already begging for more after I jus' filled her up."

He withdraws his hand, bringing his glistening fingers to your lips. Without hesitation, you take them into your mouth, tasting the mingled flavors of your arousal and his release. Bjorn groans at the sight.

"Tha's it, clean it all up like a good girl," he purrs.

Bjorn rolls his tongue on his bottom lip before whispering to himself. "May have to fuck you again."

#feral feral feral #bjorn smut #bjorn x reader #bjorn alien romulus x reader #bjorn alien romulus #alien: romulus #alien romulus #alien romulus fanfic #alien romulus x reader #spike fearn

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writer-freak · 11 months ago

Text

New years confession | Iso x Gn reader

Summary: You have a crush on the new agent Iso but just can't imagine him liking you back. You try your best to avoid him but during the New Year celebration at the headquarters, confessions are made.

Warnings: Gn reader, shy reader, confessions, maybe ooc Iso, english isn't my first language, otherwise fluff

Wordcount: 1.1 k

A/n: So I actually had something written for Christmas but it still isn't finished so take this in the meantime. It's my first time writing for Iso and I didn't know exactly how I wanted to write him so I just tried something out sorry if it is ooc. Finished that right now real quick so some things may not exactly make sense but I hope you guys still enjoy it.

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more

When Iso arrived you were unable to take your eyes off him, and the first time you talked your words got stuck in your throat. You were somehow able to play it off but Iso definitely noticed that he was the reason for your reaction.

You tried to avoid him as best as you could but somehow he would always find you. It almost felt like he was purposefully seeking you out, especially when the others commented that he seemed to not really talk to anyone else at the headquarters.

But you tried to push that fluttering feeling in the back of your head, you didn't want to read too much into the situation. You reasoned that maybe he is just not used to everyone else and finds you the most approachable. You convinced yourself that that was the reason and that if he just spent more time with the others everything would be fine.

When Jett and Neon asked you if you wanted to help with the party preparations you agreed right away. It was something that could give you an excuse not to talk with Iso while also keeping you busy.

Time flew by as you helped with the party preparations, making sure everything was perfect for the night's festivities. The thought of Iso's presence at the celebration lingered in the back of your mind, and the mere idea of spending the countdown with him in the room made your heart race.

The party was in full swing with everyone drinking, dancing, and conversing.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight you sought out a quiet corner, taking in everyone else from the sidelines. As you were lost in your thoughts someone appeared beside you, "Enjoying the party?" You could recognize Iso's smooth voice immediately, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You jumped slightly, caught off guard "O-Oh, yeah. It's great." you stammered feeling a familiar heat rising to your cheeks. As you looked up at him you took a moment to take in how the colorful lights were casting a beautiful glow across him. Before you could get too lost in your admiration he spoke up again "I'm glad." He said with a smile, for a moment it felt like the world around you disappeared, leaving only you two in this corner.

The new year now was almost around the corner and while you took a sip of your drink you could feel Iso's eyes constantly on you. Trying to break the silence you asked "Ready for the new year?" You looked into his eyes with a slight smile.

He let out a breath before a smile took over on his lips "Well, almost, there is actually one more thing that I really wanted to do this year," Iso admitted, his tone carrying a hint of anticipation. With curiosity in your eyes, you couldn't help but ask, "And what is it?"

Iso took your free hand into his, his eyes now locked onto yours. Iso's smile grew, and he took a moment before answering, "I wanted to be honest with you, to share something that's been on my mind." Your heart quickened the anticipation building. Iso's gaze remained unwavering as he continued "I've noticed the way you react when I'm around, the way your words get caught. It hasn't escaped my attention, and I can't ignore the fact that you've been trying to avoid me."

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how he would continue. Iso, however, tightened his grip on your hand reassuringly. "But tonight, I don't want to play it off or pretend. I want to be straightforward with you," he confessed, his voice carrying sincerity. "I've found myself drawn to you, and I can't ignore the connection that seems to spark between us. I'd like to spend more time with you, and get to know you even more."

As Iso spoke, the countdown to midnight echoed in the background, the excitement of the celebration reaching its peak. "So, what do you say?" he asked, his gaze holding a mixture of hope and vulnerability. "Would you be willing to spend the upcoming year with me, not just as a teammate but maybe as something more?" Iso's confession hung in the air, the weight of his words settling between you two. The anticipation in his eyes was palpable, and you felt a familiar tightness in your throat, much like the first time you spoke to him.

He had bared his feelings, leaving the decision in your hands. Iso's sincerity and vulnerability tugged at your heartstrings, and you took a moment, allowing the silence to linger.

A lump formed in your throat, and you found it difficult to meet Iso's gaze. The colorful lights of the New Year's Eve celebration seemed to blur, but you took a steadying breath. Iso's hand in yours provided a sense of comfort, grounding you in the moment.

"Iso," you finally spoke, your voice soft but resolute. "I… I've felt it too. The way you make my heart race and my words get stuck. I tried to avoid you because I just didn't know how to handle it."

You looked up, meeting his eyes with a shy smile. "But tonight, I don't want to play it off either. I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together, and I'd like to see where this could go. So, yes, Iso. I'd like to spend the upcoming year with you, not just as a teammate but as something more."

The countdown started, everybody loudly screaming around you but everything was drowned out when Iso took a step closer to you. He gently cupped your cheek and almost in a whisper asked "Can I kiss you?" You knew that your words completely escaped you at the moment so you just closed the gap between you two, putting your lips on his.

In the background, you could hear everyone cheering and screaming "Happy New Year!" Cheers and the sound of fireworks filled the air, but for you, time seemed to stand still leaving only the feeling of his lips upon yours.

As fireworks lit up the sky in an arrangement of beautiful colors you and Iso pulled away from each other, a shared smile on your lips. "Happy New Year" Iso whispered, his eyes holding a warmth that eased the nervousness within you.

"Happy New Year" you replied, a genuine happiness blossoming within as you realized that, perhaps, the new year held more surprises.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

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agirlwholovesrockstars · 5 months ago

Text

°𝄞 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 °𝄞

☆ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎 ☆

"March 21 1986"

♬♪ 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ♬♪

ᯓ★ next chapter ★ᯓ

✶࿐ Summary : your heart was heavy and you just wanted to disappear in the world, you stumbled a peculiar old record store and jumped back into 1986

✶࿐ Word Count : help, I'm making a new series again lol

✶࿐ Warnings : 18+ Eddie Munson x Future!FEM!reader, cursing, use of y/n, time travel, comedy, sci-fic, drama, slight family arguments, slight toxic!household, invalidating mental health, slight misogyny, slight physical abuse, I added a character named "Veronica", reader and Eddie are both (20), reader is very defensive when it comes to Hawkins history, a description of reader wearing "Nirvana" long sleeve, ripped jeans, black classic converse, no mention of reader's race/eye color/hair color, reader lives in 2024, that's about it!

✶࿐ What to Expect : it's all the same characters from "Stranger Things" but I wrote them as if they "exist" in real life, I made them as if they were "historical heroes" in Hawkins!

✶࿐ Note To Reader : this is inspired from my tv shows that I loved, I'll be just getting some of the ideas but I promise this will be good and original! very fast paced and hopefully my writing has some improvements! 💗

✶࿐ Author Note : I just hope that you'll love this another world that I created! I've been wanting to do this for so long, please, don't forget to support me! your simple likes, reblogs and comments will always be highly appreciated! 🥺🫶🏻✨

𓆩♱𓆪 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𓆩♱𓆪

❦ 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙖'𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙜𝙚 ❦

"Y/N, get up"

"But, I don't want to-"

"I said- get up now" your mom's voice is firm as she sighs as she walks out of your room

You groaned on the other side of your bed as you tried to shut your eyes but it seems like you're not so sleepy anymore, so, you begrudgingly sit up from your bed

"Your father is waiting downstairs, I prepared breakfast" she says when she passed by your doorframe again

You scoff at that as you tied your hair back and you stand up and went into the bathroom to wash your face

You don't want to eat with him, all he ever does is to spoil everything with his hot tempered behavior

Eating with your family was fun sometimes but you just can't ignore your dad's attitude

You love him but also the same time you hate him

It's so mentally draining that you wanted him to change, you always rooted for him to change but he never does and it drives you mad that you and you mom has to endure

You saw him as you went down by the stairs, he's now scarfing down eggs and bacon

You manage to restrain an eye roll to his presence as you headed towards at the kitchen to grab a glass and pour yourself a water

"It's a miracle that you get outside of your room" he says as he takes a sip of his coffee

Your mom clocked you and gave you a look that says "don't make a scene" , you squeezed your eyes shut as you take a deep breath and you drink your glass of water

It's literally 7am in the goddamn morning

You decided not to join him over at the table as you prepared your plate with the food that your mom make and you grab your mug for your coffee

You overheard the conversation of your mom and dad as you stirred your coffee the fact that it's still a bit hot but it didn't let you stop by drinking the half of it as you chew down aggressively on eggs and bacon

"She's having a hard time, go easy on her"

"Does she have depression? If she does that's bullshit"

Your ears are ringing and the voices from your parents are blurred out from the feeling that you're having, you're heavily breathing

You take the empty mug and plate as you let it clatter on the sink making their attention snap at you

You looked over to them and your dad as fucking as always looks at you like you've done something wrong

It's always been like that, everytime you tried your best, everytime you won a trophy or had an achievement, it is never enough for him

It is ironic that he's complaining about your condition when he's the cause of it, that's why you have this

You hate that he's always comparing you to other students saying that you're not smart and pretty enough

And your mom was always the one who never fails to make you smile most of the time

What the fuck happened? Back then when you're a kid, you like your father until you realized that's why when in family reunions you always caught those looks like "oh, god, he is going to ruin the party"

Yeah, he's maybe caring and do all of the stuff that a father needs to do, he filled his shoes with that

You just despise his generational trauma qualities

All you wanted was a understanding father, if he only just be like your mom it would be so great

"You're the one who is bullshit" you say as your mom winced and releases a deep sigh as she holds your dad's shoulders

"What a disrespectful child! You have no right to talk to me like that!" He shouts out loud as you went to the stairs to your room as you slam your door

You're still panting as you swallow the lump in your throat as you walk through your closet taking out your "Nirvana" long sleeve, denim ripped jeans and socks for your black converse

You tried to avoid the thoughts running through your head as you still heard the muffled sounds from the voices of your parents downstairs

You take a shower as you let the warm water hits your skin as you open the cap from your shampoo as you massage it through your scalp this somehow soothes you

You pour the body wash on your loofah as you scrubbed your entire body

You wrapped a towel on your hair and your body as you brushed your teeth and mouthwashed

You placed your palms on each side of your sink as you turn off the faucet as you look yourself on the mirror

You know you're not proud of what you're going through, you can't even feel anything, you can't do anything to cheer you up, nothing else makes you feel any better

That's why you always try to distract yourself like lathering a lotion to your body, putting on some minimal makeup and spritz a perfume on your pulse points

You still feel....horrible

You feel like the worst daughter on earth

You put all of your stuff inside of your knapsack as you put it over your shoulder

You click your tongue that you almost forgot your charger for your phone and powerbank as you finally take the leave out of your room

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You carefully took down the steps as you looked around at the place for your dad

It's just his voice that make your bones jitter

"He left" your mom spoke beside you as she hangs her head slightly low

You saw the red patch on your mom's arm that it looks swollen as she dismissively wave her hand in front of you

Your jaw clenched as she hugs you and place a kiss on your cheek, you sigh in defeat, you know for sure she doesn't want to talk about it

"I'll see you later, Mom" you gave her a small smile as she nods

You looked over at your smart watch and it says 8:30am, you're going to be late because class starts at 9am as you huff in annoyance

You start walking as you begin to fish inside of your pockets and take out your wired earphones as you plug it in your phone

*Mike + The Mechanics - The Living Years starts playing*

You associate this song with your dad, if he only took down his pride and start willingly without judgement ask you about how you feel, you would do it in a heartbeat

A car slowly following you as you heard the non-stop beeping, you take off one of your earphones as you turn around

"Hey! Why are you walking? Hop in!" Veronica shouts as she lifts herself to talk over the car window

You chuckle as you shake your head as you jog over at the passenger's seat

Right, you forgot she'll come over and give you a lift to school

Her smile fades when she sees your lost expression on your eyes as you forced a smile on her

"I'm here" she says and you got taken aback from her side hug as she pats your back

You smile fondly as you pulled back, "Come on, Vee, we're going to be late for class!"

"Can I just hug my bestfriend for a minute?"

You chuckle, "I appreciate it, now, step on it!" you point at her as she laughs

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"I don't blame Jason Carver for reacting that way, if I were him on his position, I would've done the same"

You scoff at that, this debate in your history class is taking forever, Veronica can feel your patient is hitting on its limit

"It's 2024 and Hawkins is still a shitshow"

"Goddamn right"

"Oh- what was that Y/N L/N? care for you to join us?" One of the students called you out as you can feel your eyes are going to stuck behind due to over rolling your eyes too much

You mock him a smile, "Yes, I do think I have something to share" as you stand up and went in front

"Oh shit" Veronica smirks as you slightly hit her shoulder

"You know it is never right to kill someone who is innocent"

"Well, how do you know Eddie Munson is innocent? Were you there? You don't know what is like finding out about your girlfriend killed in a freaky way"

"For starters, Jason didn't have any proof, he doesn't have evidence that Eddie Munson did this"

"Have you completely forgotten that his girlfriend was found on his trailer?"

"No, I didn't, just because it happened there doesn't mean he was the one who did it"

"Jason still remains the only right-"

"I won't support a madman who is willingly to kill someone who is innocent and always claiming that Eddie was the main suspect without proper evidence, Jason showed every disturbing behavior towards the people of Hawkins, many people admitted that he brainwashed and twisted every word that happened while looking for Eddie, he turned everyone against him who obviously wasn't supposed to be the one being pressed on and also let's not forget the fact that he punched Lucas Sinclair almost bludgeoning killing him and what for? Why would he do that to Lucas? Was he desperate? Is he frustrated for not having the chance to punch Eddie in the face like he always desired to do, so, instead he poured his anger everything to Lucas? and he wasn't even Eddie, Eddie was the one he was looking for right? Why hitting him the face to a pulp? that just goes to show that he is in fact the one who is dangerous, You missed out that his sister, Erica Sinclair spoken about it publicly on a TV program back in 2001 interviewing him about how his brother almost died because of Jason Carver."

Before your debater speak again, you didn't let it this time

"Have you completely forgotten, the massive earthquake that happened back in 1986? that's where the locals find out that Eddie wasn't the one who is doing those curses all along"

You looked around over your classmates and you saw one of them nodding along to your words

"Henderson, Dustin Henderson, he published a book in 1994 writing about his interaction with his dear friend Eddie Munson and he still keeps saying the same thing until now that he will always be innocent"

"Are you saying that Jason Carver is a villain?"

"No, he is just blinded by the wrong belief's and he needs a guidance for anything else"

Your teacher applauded you and the rest of class did too, your debater slumped both of his shoulders

"A+ for you, Miss Y/N" she smiles at you

"Thanks a lot, freak" he hits your shoulder aggressively making you wince at it as you shook your head sideways

"So much for not accepting losses, does he know sport?" You throw your hands up

The bell rings as it now time for lunch and everyone is leaving out of the room as you watch your bestfriend, Veronica, coming at you and hooking a hand around your forearm

"It's a delight to see him butthurt because he was defeated by a woman and he can't accept it because he has LDS"

"What's LDS?"

"Little Dick Syndrome"

You bursted out laughing as it echoes in the hallway, both of you didn't care as you went inside of the cafeteria

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Veronica dropped you off in your house after school

You stand in front of your house as you caught the screen door hitting back and forth as if someone break in, you immediately went alerted mode

Once you carefully walked inside, you saw every furniture is broken and every picture is torn into shreds as you looked for your mom, the moment she's in your sight, you kneel down and took off the bag from your shoulder

"Why are you here?" She's still shaking as you placed your palms over your her shoulders

"What-" you knitted your brows together as you went confused about her remark

"Why are you like this?" She saids when she ripped out from your hold as she stands up

"Mom- are you okay-" you stood up as you went to follow her

"I'm trying to fix this family and why do you always have to spoil it?"

You know what happened while you're away, they both had another heated argument

"I know- you're upset, mom-" you sigh as you picked up your bag

"Why are you like this?" She glares at you and you perplexed why she's blaming this on you

"Excuse me?" You tilt your head

"Why the fuck are you like this?" She gave you an outburst, you didn't have to let this thing get into you but you can't help since you're only a human being

You can't help to have feelings, so, you went defensive

"Mom, I didn't ask for to be like this-" you tried to steady your voice but it cracked the time your eyes went glossy

"Why don't you just suck it up!" She yelled those words as you flinched by the tone of her voice

Your eyes widen but then again it fades when there's a darker cloud is going over to your head overthinking

Your mom had a bad day and you know it's not your fault but you just had enough of it

"You want me to disappear, then so be it" you voice is stern as you turn you back and walk away

You forgot to look back at your mother's eyes, it flickered with regret as it welled up in tears when she realizes what she has done

She didn't had the chance to keep up to you when you're already running miles away

"Oh no- wait- please! Y/N!" Your mom called out to you but you kept running and running

You put your palms over your knees as you pant and step aside from the road

You started walking as you hang your head low

Your try not to think about it, you hate your family, you hate this town and the people in it

"God- I hate this place" you murmured as you kick the tiny pebbles on the ground

When you reached at the abandoned Starcourt Mall, you've never talked or spoken about to anyone else that you feel like you're been there before but you can't place it

Your brows are pulled together as you try to understand it, you also have these weird dreams that keep flashing whenever you're in a deep sleep

Was that a dream? Or is it a memory?

It feels so real, you glanced over the chain leather bracelet on your wrist

You can't recall when did you get that or you didn't even know if you bought it for yourself

It just so happens that it's there

You can't even explain how you got the same cap that Dustin wore, but for some reason, you hide it your closet

Also the faint scars on your neck, it's not gnarly but when you look closer there's something in there

Sometimes, you don't even feel like this world that you woke up to isn't real, it's like you're walking inside of a made up world or a like projector

You started to walk slowly when you only can recollect of the memories that you had with your "family"

But what about the questionable stuff that you have on you?

You might be sounded delusional but why did you have things from the heroes of Hawkins?

You looked over to your right and saw their monumental statue filled with their names on the bottom

"The Fearless Hawkins Indiana Heroes"

You don't know why but you always lingered your stare at a one specific person's name that is engraved on the marbled stone

Why does it feel like you knew him? not only knew him but you feel like you've been with him and it grows something bigger and much more deeper

But then again, you get a hold of yourself because if he's still alive today he would've been 60+ years old by now

This was supposed to make you feel even more sad if you walked around these monuments of them but you feel comfortable and close to them

This place was your sanctuary whenever you feel you don't like to get home early

There's a group photo that is displayed in the front center

You step forward as you tried to inspect the picture

Your eyes goes big as you can recognize the person beside.....Eddie? The Eddie Munson?

You can't see your face clearer that much because you're hiding from the camera and someone definitely captured your photo together all of the sudden

It's the same shirt and jeans that you're wearing right now

"No- that's impossible" you feel boneless and your cheeks lost its color as you try to blink more than once

You might think your mind is just playing with you but it doesn't even goes away

You're still in the picture, it doesn't have to be creepy but you feel alarmed by all of this

This is all becoming too much for you to let it all sink in

So, you left the historical place as you walked faster and faster

You ignore that you crossed the abandoned Family Video

You halt your tracks when you pass by a building that you never seen before

You move your head side to side as you swallow the bile in your throat as you walked closer to it

You don't know why but something else is pulling you inside and to your senses, it feels safe for some reason?

From all of the buildings that you went to, this looks new and it's looked nice inside

It's a record store, it's filled with vinyls, tapes, CD's

You got jumped by the presence of a older man but he looks familiar to you the moment he appeared in the front desk

You will never ever understand why that he looked at you like that

He got this knowing look in his eyes, this was supposed to make you feel weird, you can just turn your heel and walk away but you didn't

"I believe you will like this one"

He slides a "Journey - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" tape in front of you

Now, this is even got more odd to you, is that even a coincidence that he knew your favorite song?

"I'm sorry- wait- how did you"

"Oh shoot, I forgot to wear my name tag"

There he goes in the backroom as you frustratedly sigh

This is a very a bad idea but a stranger? gave you a tape?

But, you still took it nonetheless as you looked for your vintage walkman as you placed the tape inside

You put on the headset and the moment you start to press play

Your hands begin to swirled in the air, you panicked as it goes everywhere

There's like a lazer boom sound and it all happens too fast and now you're standing in the same place but you're in the middle of the woods as the peculiar building is now long gone and from what you know

The morning has already passed and from where you were earlier is already noon

You stopped the tape as you remove the headset and put it all to your bag as you try to walk around the area

"That....was....very....trippy" you said as you try to brush it off what just happened

The time you stepped in the road, you saw a lot of retro cars and you didn't even noticed the people inside of it, of what they look like but the moment all you can see is from the 1980's cars on the road you started to feel strange

You shake your head and you made up your mind that you're only just hungry that's why you're seeing things as you headed to home but then you remember that you had a homework for English class and you forgot to bring home your book, so, you groaned in annoyance as you walked to school

When you reached your destination, you gasped

Why does everyone looked like from those pictures you saw in your school library?

When you looked some of the students, you've been getting these eccentric looks from them, it's not offending, they don't even looked disgusted

It's just that it looks like you're in....No- no- no- absolutely not we're not going down there

You've noticed they tried to read what's in your shirt and you try to stealth your moves as you walked forward

Oh my god, it gets even more bizarre when you stepped inside

This doesn't looked like your school, you know that your school got renovated so there's a lot of changes in it

You're so crazy for thinking like this, you're crazy for asking it

"Um- I'm sorry, can I ask what date and year is it?" You asked one of the students in the locker

"Oh, sure, no problem, it's March 21 1986"

You need to restrain the shock from your face from what she just said "March 21 1986?" You say it again

"Yes, that's right! Wait- I'm gonna get to class now, bye!" She saids as she picked up her stuff from the locker and jogs away

"Oh my god.....oh my god- I'm in the past?" You whisper-shout as you try to calm down

You're so bamboozled as you looked at the tape again, now, you know why you're here

It's because of the tape that you played not an hour ago

You pinch yourself, you try to slap your cheek but no to avail, you're not dreaming

This is real and you're here

How will you ever get the fuck out of here?

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"I'll talk to you later, okay?" He ruffles his hair as the boy winces from his action, no way, that's Mike Wheeler

You're still walking around inside trying to figure how to escape this and then you heard his voice

You try to find him until your eyes landed on him

Jesus Christ, the few pictures that you saw from him in the books don't even do justice

He looks even better in person, he looks so handsome, you admiring Edward Munson from afar

You rolled your eyes to yourself when you find yourself harboring a crush over some dead guy, not even just some dead guy

He's a hero, if only the Hawkins knew what he is like

He has always been described in the real authentic books that you read that he is kind, gentle, playful, full of wonder, very caring to those people who is exactly like him, an outcast

Now, you're seeing it for yourself right between your very eyes, it feels so different in person, you always had been so defensive when it comes to his personal life, out of all the history in Hawkins, he's the only one that you ever truly cared for as if you knew him in real life, you've never even met him until now whatever this is, even if it's real or not, you're so honored to come by this close to him you became even more empathetic to him when you saw how he truly behaves while he was still alive

Your smile slowly drops when you realized that he doesn't even know, no one else in the group knows what will happen to him

All of the nasty things that people talked about him in the past and even in the future

You will never forget when in 2022, you saw the news that they lifted the case that he was truthfully innocent

When they should've done it years ago

Is this the reason why you're in here? To help them? To help him?

The bell rings that made you snap out of your thoughts and everyone is walking towards to the cafeteria as you follow suit

Oh shit, are you witnessing the moment of history that just happened here?

You shudder when you saw Jason Carver, god- his great grandson looks like just like him and acts like him too, you try not to barf thinking about it, his stupid descendants still spreading lies until now, you can't believe they have the privilege to do that

Enough of about the Carvers, holy shit- he got a fat ass point on his speech as you watch him strut his way in the table

You know D&D, but you never played it, now, seeing it unfold, god- he is so serious about it

Dustin was right, it is a sadistic campaign

The fact that you take a step back because you know damn well they wouldn't believe you if you told them what will happen to Eddie later

But, there's a force that is pulling you here and whatever you try to hesitate, you will still go for it

Especially you can't even stand by it for your conscience even though is already written in the books

What is done, is done, what happened, happened

Can you somehow change the past? Can you undo the events that happened back then?

will Hawkins, can be peaceful when you manage to remove the curse in the town?

You will have to wait until....He'll met Chrissy

Oh shit, right, he's going to sell K to the Queen of Hawkins High

But, first, you'll have to know her favorite song, so, you can save her and Eddie won't be a wanted man

If only it was easy to plan it, you know they can't just believe you, but you will try

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You saw Chrissy in the woods, acting all horror-struck as she looked everywhere and when you follow her gazes, you see nothing else that you can see that is terrifying, you ran up to her

When she almost tripped herself as she goes backwards, she bumped into you as she shrieked

Instead, you're the one who got bumped behind your back to Eddie

"Woah, woah, hey- I'm sorry- I didn't mean to scare you" he smiles all dimples are shown but confusion is etched immediately to his features when he looked at you

"You okay?" He looked over to your shoulder as he asks Chrissy

She didn't respond, she's still looking at the tree with fearful eyes

Eddie looked where she is looking as he gotten more confused

You hold both of her shoulders to swing her around to face you

"Hi, sorry, I know you don't know me but you gotta believe me, I know what frightens you"

She squints her eyes a little bit but the terror is still present as she looked at Eddie who is puzzled

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"I know why you wanted to buy drugs to Eddie"

He moved beside you as he tries to understand the situation, he wanted to cut off the scenario but something tells him that you're saying the truth

"What-"

"I know you seeing things, Chrissy"

She's trembling under your touch as her eyes starts forming tears on her waterline

"I-I don't-"

"You saw the grandfather clock"

Her eyes widen when you knew what she saw

"How did you-"

"You heard chimed 3 times"

"You're scaring her, now, back off" He clicked his tongue as he gestures you move away

You sigh in defeat as you follow to what he just said as Eddie pulls Chrissy behind his back

Chrissy who is now stunned at how accurate the things that you just said

He roams his eyes at you from top to bottom, and he got curious at the picture that looked like a band from your long sleeve

"Who are you, anyway?" He asks you as he crosses both of his arms

"That's not for you to know" my god- his eyes are so pretty, what the fuck- okay, Y/N focus!

You tried to get close to Chrissy who has this hopeful eyes at you

"Chrissy, let me help you-" you walked closer but Eddie blocks your way

"Hey, I told you to back off!" He gave you a pointed look

"I'm trying to save her life!" You exclaimed, you missed the way Chrissy has become shaken

"What?" He shakes his head in confusion

Chrissy blinks rapidly as she's the one who went in front of Eddie

You stare at her, watching her intently as you see her nod slowly, meaning that she wants you to elaborate

"I know exactly who is the person behind calling your name out of nowhere, other people can't see it when you're in a trance, but I know it is real, he got you cursed because he likes to target people who are traumatized by their life events" you explained as you pause taking deep breaths

You continue "You buy drugs to Eddie just so you can be distracted from all of the things that you're seeing, when you ran out, that's where it all comes back again"

"Who is he?" Eddie scratches the back of his neck

"Vecna" you plainly said

"I'm sorry, but how can you be so sure that she is for real?!?" Eddie chuckles lightly as he looked down to Chrissy

There is only one way to find out that you're actually saying the truth

"Do you know what he looked like?" Chrissy softly speaks as she swallowed tightly

"I can't describe the perfect word for him but he's tall, has a lot of vines going over his neck, he has powers just by using his hand he can control over you like a snap, he looked like a.....monster"

"What a fucking shit show, are you buying-" he stopped when he heard the faint sniffles and the sharp gasp that she just let out

"She's telling the truth, Eddie" She gulped as she looked up to him and she went frantic when she glanced at you

"Okaaaaaay, I don't know what the hell is going on and from what I know I was only to meet Chrissy here not you, you just spawned out of nowhere and your clothes-" Eddie starts to ramble as he wipes his face with his palm

"Wait- no, don't go- Chrissy!" You tried to chase her but it was too late, she is gone from your vision

"If I were her, I would do the same thing"

"Like what-"

"Running away from you"

You scoff, "Eddie, I am trying to save a life here and you too"

He dramatically taken aback as he mocks a gasp, "What about me?"

God, he can be such a cute nerd dork but he's also a pain in the ass

"You don't believe me right? Let's just say after your D&D campaign later will be successful with your Hellfire Club and the sub that you demanded to Dustin and Mike will be Erica Sinclair because Lucas can't be there because of the laundry baskets game" you gesture to his shirt he tries to speak but you beat him to it as you continue, "when you go home, Chrissy will be there with you because she wanted something more stronger than you just offered but since I came here first to warn her, the deal didn't happen, so, I guess this will be the only time for you to be free to walk around"

"Free? From who?"

"From the police" you walk away with that and you didn't even bother to wait for his reply

"that's such bullshit, I didn't even know her name" he shooked his head as he left the woods

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Eddie wanted to drop the scenario that happened with you earlier

But, his mind won't shut up if you're right all along

You we're right that Erica is the sub

The campaign went well, too well

"Hey, Henderson" he gathered all of his stuff back on his bag

"Yeah?" Dustin replies as he helps Eddie to clean up

"I met up with Chrissy earlier in the woods but someone else is there"

"Shit, was it Jason?"

"No- not him, it's another girl but-"

"But?"

"She's different, she acts different and even her clothes are out of the ordinary"

"So, what if she's so different?"

"Dustin, she spoke something about Chrissy that I can't understand like the grandfather clock and some kind of a hideous monster putting curses in all of kids in Hawkins"

That's where the boy began to straighten himself up as he looked at Eddie this time who is still perplexed

"And then what else did she say?"

"See, here's the funny thing, I don't believe that much into predictions but she already knew about what happened here"

"Oh?"

"She knew about Erica, she knew that our campaign will be fine"

"Does this girl, have a name?"

"Nah, I didn't get the chance to ask her because it all happened too fast-"

He stops abruptly as he carries his bag as Dustin placed the boxes on the shelf, "One thing that made me feel eerie is that she told me that I only have a few hours left that I was free from the police"

"What?" Dustin looked at him in confusion as he thinks Eddie's words carefully, but why does it feel there's a knowing pounding in his heart that he might know what this is all about

The secret that his metalhead friend that he didn't know about Hawkins

"Yeah, I know, it's weird" Eddie just shrugs

"Maybe, it's all just a coincidence"

"How will it be just a coincidence when she told me everything all at once without her stuttering"

"I think she's just messin' with you" he gets on with his bike as Dustin doesn't like to think too much about the information that his friend just said

"You know what, you're probably right, pal- I'll see ya, tomorrow" He sighs as he gives him a small smile and pats his back as he waved goodbye to Dustin

When he's about to unlock the driver's seat to his van

Fuck, he jumped when he felt a touch from his shoulder and my god- it is Chrissy

He wants to know who are you? Why do you know all of this?

It's so impossible that this is just a coincidence

"That girl is getting all too real for my liking, jesus christ" He muttered the words under his breath as he places his palm over his chest as he calms down first

"Sorry, Eddie- uh- I still need the-" He cuts her off as he motions to the passenger seat

"Yeah, you can hop on" He nods as he jogs over to the other side

"Eddie, do you have it?" Chrissy bops her knees up and down anxiously, she craned her neck to peek at Eddie who is looking through his stuff

"I got it- somewhere-" He stood up as he tries to think where he hid it and turns his back on her and went to his bedroom

When Eddie left her all alone, Chrissy thought she was still in the same world

A cold sweat runs through the side of her face when she realizes it as she furiously panicked as she looked everywhere for Eddie

"It's time for your suffering to end"

"Eddie!" she got goosebumps at the sound of this monstrous voice as she continues to kick and bang every wall to cry out for help

"Found it! peaceful bliss just moments away" his smile fades when he saw Chrissy standing so still and he noticed her eye color changed

It's all white with blue-ish hues on them

He starts calling her name, snaps his fingers, clapping both of his hands, he shakes her by the both of her shoulders and slapping her cheek in the same process

His heart begins to thump into his chest when he noticed all the lights on the room are flickering non-stop

It finally dawned on him that you're right yet again

"What the fu-" he steps back when Chrissy begins to levitate, he didn't even know that his hand is shaking in fear

The front door bangs open as he fells all the way down to floor in shock when he saw you standing on his doorstep

You glare at him and then you saw Chrissy is on a trance, Vecna already has her and you know if you don't move now she will be gone for good

"Chrissy, I'm here, you can escape this"

You shakily put the headset on her and put the tape on your walkman and you press play

"I know he has you, please- listen to my voice, follow my voice, if you can see any portal in there, run for it, I know you can do it"

Eddie slowly gets back up to his feet as he swallows the lump in his throat as he walks closer to the both of you, he sniffles and has clammy hands

Chrissy saw the portal fading in behind Vecna as he holds her still

She quivered from the vines that goes along to her waist as she clocked the hammer beside the small table, she was just about to be covered in vines so she has the time to discreetly get it

By your doing, this caught the attention of Vecna as he turns his head back as he felt someone else doesn't belong in this timeline

She heard your voice as it echoes in again and again in the same area

The moment he looked at her again, Chrissy hit him in the head harshly buying more time to try to make a run for it

Vecna tries to get her but Chrissy swiftly dodges his traps as he grunts in pain

"Eddie" you call his name for assistance

He's in a state of shock as he doesn't know what to do, his ears began to throb as he can't steady the beating of his heart

"Eddie!" You said it out loud this time

"Y-Yeah?" His eyes are misty as he blinks at you

"I know you're scared but I need you to get ready to catch her, she must land between the two of us so she won't get hurt, Okay?" You demonstrate it to him

He gives you a tight nod as he inhales deeply

When Chrissy reaches the portal with you and Eddie being on it, the sight became all pitch black

The moment she woke up realizing she's still floating she dropped into your arms to Eddie's and she's finally brought back into the real world

She gasps in relief and began to wail in your arms and to Eddie's, she's still looking around as if she were being tricked again, you saw the look of almost life-threatening experience on her eyes, your eyes starts to water when she recognizes you and let her embrace you as she begins to weep

You saw Eddie's hands quavering as he looks like he's about to faint from what he just witnessed

Before he hits his head first, you hold his hand tightly making him look in your eyes directly as you use your other hand to held Chrissy as you comfort her

"You're okay, we're safe.....for now"

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

taglist <3 : @paleidiot @marsmallow433 @whothefckissofia @letsfallinlove-blog @silky-luxe @imagine-all-the-imagines @theladyasgard

(Yay, finally, I posted the first chapter of this series and I hope you enjoyed and liked it! Thank you so so so very much of your support! I greatly appreciate it, I did not expected my idea to be recognized and I feel so happy about it! take care always and stay hydrated! I hope y'all stick around for the next part! 🥺🫶🏻✨)

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem! reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things 4 #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson supremacy #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson series #agirlwholovesrockstarsfics #Spotify

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veronicaphoenix · 5 months ago

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zutto — chapter two | wc: 3k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

chapter summary: lia and noah's first morning together in her apartment after returning to los angeles.

tags and trigger warnings: best friends to lovers, conflicted feelings, subtle mentions of overdose, ptsd, angst/comfort, noah's having nightmares of lia dying, insomnia, lia's still suffering from slight disorientation, but she's totally in love with noah and so is he with her, even though they're grappling with the aftermath of what happened and taking things slow. there's also obvious sexual tension that will just keep on escalating until it can't be contained anymore.

general trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

As Lia slowly emerged from the depths of slumber, the soft embrace of morning sunlight kissed her eyelids, coaxing her back to consciousness. Her fingers idly traced the familiar contours of her bed, noting the untouched expanse beside her. Noah’s absence sent tendrils of unease snaking through her, and suddenly, her heart felt heavy with fear.

She slipped from the warmth of her covers, her bare feet touching the cold tiles of the floor. The faint aroma of breakfast wafted through the air as she exited her bedroom. She walked sleepily but panicked to the kitchen.

There, in the gentle glow of dawn filtering through the windows, she found Noah, clad in his sweatpants and a black t-shirt, his hair a bit ruffled but looking wide awake.

A wave of relief spread through her. Lia fluttered her eyelashes a couple of times, adjusting to the domesticity Noah exuded as he prepared breakfast in her kitchen.

“Noah.”

She caught his attention, and he gifted her a beautiful pained smile.

“Hey. I didn’t think you’d wake up so early,” he said, his voice also indicating that he’d been awake for some time now. There was an empty cup of coffee resting by the stove.

Lia inspected him. The dark circles under his eyes and the stubble on his chin made him look older than he was, and another pang of guilt hit her.

She ignored his comment, unable to remember when she had finally fallen asleep the night before. The last thing she recalled after holding each other as they cried was being curled up next to Noah on the couch, playing with the strings of his hoodie as a Tim Burton movie flickered on the TV. She couldn’t tell if she’d slept for four hours or eight, but her body still felt the fatigue and weakness of the previous days. She attributed her exhaustion to something else, though: to the fact that Noah hadn’t spent the night beside her.

“Where did you sleep?” she asked. Her voice trembled with a mixture of fear and longing as she uttered the question.

Noah’s gaze, warm and tender yet tinged with a hint of sorrow, met hers. He watched her carefully, paying particular attention to the color in her cheeks, her still sleepy eyes, and her messy hair.

His response was a silent gesture, a wordless admission. He tilted his head towards the tiny living room, silently indicating the sofa.

A surge of emotion threatened to engulf her as she stood there, her eyes falling on the crumpled blanket where Noah had spent the night, using it to shield himself from the cold. Amidst the delicate dance of morning shadows, she yearned to bridge the distance that separated them, to shatter the barriers that confined their hearts. But she was still afraid, and she didn’t know when that fear would let her fall right into his arms; the place where she belonged.

“You don’t have to sleep there,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

“I just wanted you to get a peaceful sleep,” he replied, briefly glancing up from the strawberries he was cutting.

Lia hesitated, overwhelmed again by Noah’s attention and constant care. She wasn’t sure if she would ever get used to it, but she knew she didn’t want to live without it. Those had always been the only constants in her life.

It had always been Noah.

Noah.

She nervously touched the calf of her opposite leg with the heel of her left foot, her eyes wandering over the kitchen counter as she deliberated. She watched as Noah scrambled to prepare two bowls of oatmeal with frozen berries he’d found in the freezer.

Summoning some courage, she managed to voice her feelings. “I don’t want you to sleep on the sofa.”

Her words didn’t surprise Noah, but the determination in her voice did. It was the first time in a long while that he’d hear her speak with such clarity and intensity. Her statement was more than just words; it carried the weight of an imminent solution, and they both understood what that solution entailed because they both wanted the same one.

Noah had refrained from sleeping in her bed for many reasons, but mainly because his own insecurity had told him not to cross that line unless Lia asked him to. Now, with her recent statement, it was clear she was asking.

Still, Noah needed her to be explicit. He couldn’t handle any more silences, any more behaviour he didn’t understand, or secrets between them. He needed Lia to be transparent about everything as he was willing to be; he needed the good and the bad. He needed her honesty and he needed her to verbalize what she wanted—if she wanted him.

His heart raced as Lia approached him with slow, small steps. Her brown eyes never leaving his until one of her hands rested on the edge of the countertop. Her eyes and fingers slowly drifted to the wooden board where he was slicing the strawberries. The ice had melted; the frozen berries had released their juice; his fingertips were stained a sweet pink as he cut the strawberries in two.

Noah followed Lia’z gaze, trying to decipher her thoughts.

Lia’s fingers trailed over the wooden board until they touched Noah’s. Before he could warn her about getting dirty, her fingertips demanded control over his, and then she was running the length of his long digits from the inside, smearing the strawberry juice and spreading the color over both her fingers and his hand. Noah should have felt, at the very lest, confused by her actions, but he found himself in a trance, focused solely on the sensation of her strawberry-stained fingers gliding over his skin. The scent of the fruit mingled with her subtle vanilla scent, blocking out everything else.

“I want you to sleep with me,” she whispered, a confession that sent butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

When his eyes met Lia’s again, he saw the conflict in her gaze. It was as if by expressing what she wanted, she felt somewhat guilty.

Noah didn’t want her to feel culpable about anything. He just wanted her to prioritize herself and be honest, both with him and with herself.

He was tempted to tell her there was nothing he wanted more than to sleep with her. He had barely slept the night before. After making sure Lia was asleep and untroubled by physical discomfort or nightmares, he had flopped down on the couch with a blanket he found in a closet. He tried to fall asleep but ended up spending hours listening to music and podcasts with his AirPods on and watching pointless videos on his phone. When he finally drifted off, it was only for a couple of hours, interrupted by a nightmare of Lia dying in his arms, then Lia in the hospital, and then a doctor telling him that there was nothing to be done; that Lia was gone.

When he woke up from the nightmare, it was five in the morning. He was drenched in sweat, his t-shirt clinging to his chest and back, his hair sticking to his temples. Almost scared to death, he had gotten up and gone to Lia’s room to make sure she was still there, still sleeping in the same position he had last seen her in, her breathing steady, soft. Then, he had locked himself in the bathroom, spent ten minutes in silence facing his reflection, containing his anxiety before taking a shower, changing clothes, and giving up on sleep for the night.

Lia’s confession, her desire, spread through him like a wildfire.

Lia lifted her hand from his, breaking the spell.

Noah felt petrified, a part of him unable to believe Lia’s words, increduluous at the gentleness and pain in her beautiful eyes and delicate face. Then, Lia’s strawberry-stained fingers touched his cheek, cool but pleasant, and her thumb came to rest on his lower lip, where her gaze fell.

A twitch between Noah’s legs added to the flutter of butterflies in his stomach and the tears he knew would escape his eyes if Lia continued to touch him so tenderly.

Oh, such a mess they both were.

Noah wanted to do so much, to do so many things for her, with her. He wanted to help her recover, to be patient with her and offer her his space. Another part of him wanted to cry and be held by her, to surrender in her arms, with the sound of her heartbeat against his ear. He wanted her hands caressing his face, maybe her voice singing a song to him, one that showed him there was hope, that they would both make it through. Another part just wanted to pick her up, place her on the counter and kiss her, feed her the same strawberries that now stained his lip and cheek, to watch as Lia nibbled on the small fruit and the juice that dribbled down her chin. He wanted to clean her with his kisses and then take her to bed, make love to her until she forgot everything that had happened and could only think of the bright future ahead of them.

And yet…

Lia’s eyes had a spark on them.

“Noah, I…”

Noah nearly parted his lips, ready to touch Lia’s thumb with the tip of his tongue. Just then, the shrill tone of his iPhone snapped them out of their trance. Lia’s hand fell swiftly from his face, and she took a step back, her expression changing as she apologized.

Noah clicked his tongue, swiping the back of his hand across his cheek to wipe away the strawberry residue before quickly cleaning his fingers with a rag. He reached for his iPhone with one hand while wrapping his other arm around Lia’s waist, holding her close to his side.

“It’s Jolly,” he announced looking down at the screen.

Without preamble, he answered the call, trying to focus on the manly voice on the other end while ignoring the way Lia innocently and absentmindedly licked the thumb that had been on his lips just moments before. She reached for the same rag Noah had used, and after a moment, she leaned against him, trying to listen to what Jolly was saying with a small furrow between her brows.

Noah offered the phone to her, muttering, “He’s with Emery. She wants to talk to you.”

Of course. Lia’s phone had been off for the past three days. The battery had died, and she hadn’t bothered to charge it again. Emery, one of her best friends, must have been worried sick. Lia assumed Jolly had informed her of everything, and that he was with her now after the weeks spent away on tour.

With a nod, Lia took the phone from Noah’s hand, and reluctantly, he let her go. With a soft greeting and praying she wouldn’t break down again while talking to Emery, Lia made her way around the kitchen counter that separated the kitchen and the living room, heading to the balcony. Noah was left with the ghost of Lia’s thumb on his lips.

Lia’s time on the phone with Emery went as expected. Within minutes Lia was in tears. She hadn’t needed to explain what had happened, for Jolly had already filled Emery in. The fear and worry Emery expressed made Lia feel like a bad person. This time, though, Lia took control of the conversation and assured her friend that none of it was her fault. If anything, Lia blamed herself for not letting others help her sooner and drowing herself in her own misery.

By the time the call ended with a promise of seeing each other soon, Lia was sitting on the corner of the couch, one foot barefoot on the floor and the other leg tucked under her. She sighed heavily, preparing to lock Noah’s phone when she noticed his wallpaper: one of her designs from years ago, a private one that never made it onto the Bad Omens merch or onto her website. It was a beautiful white dragon escaping from a mountain on fire, reaching for the sky with its wings spread open, creating a magnificient shape. Lia had told Noah that she felt the dragon represented her. Although the design had been kept in her MacBook, Noah had somehow obtained it and set it as his wallpaper, perhaps to use it as a reminder that his Lia was stronger than she believed.

Lia felt too emotionally exhausted to cry any more. She simply locked Noah’s iPhone and set it down next to her. Looking up at the empty balcony, she noticed the clothesline in the corner, with their tour clothes hanging to dry.

“Did you do the laundry?” Lia asked then, turning her head toward Noah at the other end of the room.

“Yeah,” he answered, closing the fridge. “I was up early,” he continued, carrying the two bowls of porridge to the coffee table in front of the couch. “Besides, I don’t have any clothes here except the ones I took on tour so, I had to get them washed,” he explained, setting the bowls. Lia moved to grab two mats from the shelf underneath and placed them on the table. “As comfortable as it feels to dress homeless, we’ll need to go out at some point to get groceries, and I’d rather do it looking a bit decent.”

That finally made her smile a little.

He settled next to her, pulling the table closer to them. He grabbed the bowl with one hand and the spoon with another.

“I should shave, too, but I’ll do that tomorrow,” he mentioned casually.

At the mention of it, Lia’s eyes fell to his stubble and the facial hair growing above his upper lip. During their teenage years, when Noah’s mustache had started showing, Lia had teased him occasionally. However, once she realized it made him uncomfortable, she stopped. Weeks later, she had stood at the bathroom door at his grandparents’ house, watching as Noah’s grandpa taught him how to shave. It was a random memory, but seeing him now so comfortable with himself warmed her heart. Growing up meant adapting and accepting changes in one’s body, and Lia was glad Noah had moved past insecurities of his youth, which just added to his appeal as a man.

Noah glanced at her as he took the first spoonful of breakfast. He was still replying the intimate moment they had shared in the kitchen before Jolly’s call interrupted, but seeing Lia play with her spoon in her bowl brought him back to the present.

“It’s not too bad,” he mentioned, referring to the frozen berries. “There was nothing fresh, and I thought about making a shake, but I know you prefer porridge, so…”

“Anything is fine. There’s nothing in the fridge, anyway,” she acknowledged. “I should have thought about it yesterday. Maybe we could have gone to get something from the mini-mart down the street.”

“We can go later if you’re feeling okay,” he leaned back, digging into his food and settling into the slow morning with her.

Lia nodded. She felt uncertain about resuming her usual routine, but she was aware that if she didn’t do the effort, she wouldn’t get any better. So, the sooner she started getting back on track, the better. And if she tripped, Noah would be there to catch her.

“Maybe we should also get some new plants and spend some time replanting the ones that died. Will keep our minds occupied.”

It was a good idea, and Lia appreciated every suggestion he made as she ate little spoonfuls of porridge, slowly filling her food-starved body.

“Do you feel like going out, though?” he asked, eyeing her with evident concern.

The gesture she made as she set her bowl down on the sofa and tucked her hair behind her ear was sweet and comforting. A part of Noah felt a pang of jealousy that she did it herself when he could have done it for her.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, “but I want to try. I want to get back to normal as soon as possible…”

She shouldn’t rush things, but she didn’t want to delay, either. The upcoming tour in Japan was in the back of her mind, though she didn’t mention it. She knew Noah’s stance on it; he didn’t think it was wise for her to travel so far so soon. She had even overheard him considering canceling the tour to stay with her and help her fully recover.

She wouldn’t allow that, wouldn’t let it happen.

“Maybe working a little might…”

“No, no work for a while, Lia,” he interjected firlmy, shaking his head.

She didn’t argue, just let her shoulders drop.

“Let’s finish breakfast and then we’ll decide together, okay? We’ll make a plan for the next few days,” he proposed, “including calling your therapist and scheduling a doctor’s appointment for next week.”

“Noah, I don’t think a doctor’s appointment so soon is req—”

“Are you going to argue with me on that? Seriously?”

“No, but—”

“Therapist,” he repeated, leaving no room for discussion. “And then a doctor’s appointment.”

She huffed.

“Okay.”

Her defeated expression made his features soften. He reached out and touched her chin with his fingers, drawing her tired eyes to meet his.

“I only want to make sure everything is okay. We need to get you off the meds, and I want to do things right with you, Lia. I’m not losing you again.”

The sincerity in his words would never fail to move her. She managed a smile; tiny but a smile after all. When it mirrored in his expression, he leaned forward. Lia thought he was going to kiss her lips, but it ended up being a tender peck on her forehead before he resumed eating his breakfast.

Before Lia continued on hers, she told him: “you won’t.”

— prev. chapter | chapter three

#i'm just feeling a lot of things #i love them so much #noah x lia #the inevitability of love at second sight #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #zutto

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alvie-pines · 11 months ago

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EDIT:

i have been informed that the red triangle has also been used in other ways, such as highlighting destruction in gaza or marking hamas/palestinian resistance groups' targets. thus, heritageposts may not have been invoking the holocaust as i assumed. PLEASE REBLOG THIS VERSION OF THE POST IF YOU REBLOG.

PSA: heritageposts is antisemitic.

while most of their political posts are no-commentary reposts of coverage of the palestinian genocide, they do occasionally add comments in the post body or tags.

here is a post where they wish the holocaust on an israeli man.

in case you are unaware, the upside-down triangle was used in nazi concentration camps to mark prisoners. the red triangle was used to mark political prisoners specifically, but i am not putting weight in the color since this is the only upside down triangle emoji available. the upside down triangle would be modified into a star of david using a yellow triangle for jewish prisoners, but the upside down triangle in general is more recognizable, especially as a nazi-specific thing. i cannot think of any other reason they would use the upside down triangle in this context except to wish the holocaust or similar on this man. wishing for a repeat of the holocaust is pretty common among antisemites and does not come without baggage.

please get your palestine news someplace else. israel is the aggressor, but that does not give anyone an excuse to air their antisemitism.

it might be tempting for non-jewish leftists to ignore this, but remember that if you let someone filter the news for you, you are liable to accept their biases as fact.

please be conscious of their antisemitism going forward.

#alv posts #palestine #israel #gaza #heritageposts #antisemitism #id in alt text

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maimingaffairs · 11 months ago

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Grieving for the Living (Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader) Part 3

The entirety of a capricious and treacherous marriage between the Darkling and the Lantsov princess.

read previous parts here!! part 1 part 2

just wanted to say thank u to everyone sending me hate, me & my girlfriend get a giggle out of it. i also want to say thank u to all the cute messages and comments too!!! also i hope everyone that celebrates had an amazing christmas yesterday, and if u don’t celebrate, i hope u had a spectacular monday (do those exist? idk) SENDING LOVE!

word count: 9.7k

warnings: nothing going on here that isn’t necessarily canon. there’s like one part where puking is mentioned. again, i’d be remiss if i didn’t remind u that there are examples of an unhealthy relationship and to read at ur own discretion

taglist: @il0vebeingdelulu @mellowarcadefun @budugu @eir964 @arwensloanebarnes @marytvirgin

“Lots of different precious metals and crystals have different properties. Many cultures believe that precious stones can be healing, in many different ways, take quartz for example…” David, a Durast who was close to your husband, read to you from one of his books and spouted off little facts that he knew about… crystals? You weren’t entirely sure, you were only half listening.

Your husband had left the two of you alone in his carriage while he got out with a handful of his other Grisha to track down whoever. At this point you weren’t sure. David could tell that you were nervous, and he began to read from his book, telling you that it often calmed him down when he read. The air inside the carriage was somewhat warm and you had shed the cloak your husband insisted you wear and instead had it laid out over your lap like a blanket.

You peeked out the window every few seconds until you heard David clear his throat.

“Princess, if I may suggest something.”

You looked up at David and blinked a few times, “Yeah, go ahead.” You mumbled and then lowered the small curtain on the window.

“I just think that you shouldn’t keep looking out the window. Someone might see you, someone dangerous perhaps?” It sounded more like a question, and you gathered that David wasn’t very authoritative.

“I’m just anxious, that’s all.” You mumbled and sat back in your seat, twisting your fingers in the fur along the edges of the cloak on your lap.

And it was true, you were anxious. Anxious that someone was going to get in and hurt you and David, anxious that your husband was going to get hurt, anxious about being away from home, everything.

“Nothing to worry about, Your Grace, The General wouldn’t let anything happen to you. We were briefed before we left, and The Darkling was very clear. We are to protect you at all costs.” David explained, “He also said-“

You wouldn’t get to hear what David was going to say, because he was cut off by an ear splitting explosion not far away.

You let out a yelp, and David lunged toward you awkwardly to shield you with his kefta. When nothing else happened, he slowly pulled away from you and you stared up at him, your pulse racing.

“What was that?” You asked and yanked the curtain away from the window. You peered outside but your line of sight was poor due to the carriage’s position. People screamed and were scrambling around, and you could see a couple Grisha, but you couldn’t see your husband. Panic swiftly gripped you and you stood up and let out a little grunt, pushing the door open.

“Princess y/n!” David screamed after you, “y/n, don’t!” He called, but you ignored him and pushed through a small crowd of people.

You scrambled through a few more small groups of people and you scanned the area for your husband, still unsure of what had just happened. There were no longer any Grisha in their brightly colored keftas remaining in the area and you took a step forward before arms wrapped around you from behind, yanking you backwards violently. You screamed and you tried to squirm away, but you were being easily dragged backwards. You tried to claw at your captor’s hands, but couldn’t with your gloves in the way, and you looked down to your waist to see a pair of purple clad arms. Relief washed over you in a thousand-foot waves when you realized it was only David and you stopped struggling. You allowed the awkward Durast to pull you back to the carriage and once both of you were inside, then slammed the door and he stood in front of it. Surely, he was trying to be menacing; authoritative, but he really just looked as startled as you. Authority and toughness seemed out of place on David. You let out a pent up sigh and you sunk down on one of the seats in the carriage.

“He’s not out there. What if something terrible happened?” You asked nervously, wringing your gloved hands together.

“He is fine, Princess. I guarantee it.“

“How can you be so sure?” You asked, laying your fidgeting hands in your lap, trying to calm yourself.

“Because The General is a smart man, Your Grace, and a determined one at that. He will do anything to return to you.” David said, his voice serious.

This did more to calm your nerves than his entire book of crystals and you found yourself leaning back against the wall, a long sigh escaping your lips. You were still worried, and that wasn’t going away anytime soon, but you were able to somewhat relax in the carriage. David didn’t begin reading from his book again, at least, not out loud. He flipped through it silently on his own, reading faster than you had ever seen anyone read before. You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the side of the wall, counting down from one hundred in your head to pass the time. Once you had gotten one hundred down, you started again, this time from one thousand. You were only about halfway through when you grew bored and opened your eyes again.

You glanced over at David who was still leafing through his book and you reached down and grabbed your cloak off of the floor. You laid it back over your lap like a blanket and smoothed it out meticulously before clearing your throat.

“So,” you began, tapping your fingers against your leg absentmindedly, “What exactly do you do, David?” You asked the boy, trying to pass the time with conversation.

“I make things.” He replied, slowly tearing his attention away from his book, “I made your wedding rings, you know. The General didn’t want the ones the King and Queen were offering up. Said they were too gaudy.”

You looked down at the little bump in your glove over your wedding ring and you hummed once, wiggling your finger a bit, “It’s very pretty.” You commented and David shot you a very small smile.

“Didn’t take me too long, just something easy.” He said bashfully, trying to play off his flattered smile as if the compliment wasn’t a big deal to him.

You smiled too, “Will you read me some more of your book?” You asked and pointed to the book in his lap.

The Durast gave you a nod and he looked back down at his book. He began to read from it in a quiet tone and you laid your head back against the wall. You weren’t really listening, but his voice was something to hear in the background while you tried to relax. You closed your eyes after a while and pulled the cloak up around your arms much like a blanket and you shifted a bit to get yourself comfortable. You felt drained and you tried to clear your mind as best as you could until David’s voice was only a faint hum in the back of your mind.

You had hardly even noticed that you’d fallen asleep, but at some point David must have noticed because he stopped reading aloud. Your sleep wasn’t overly satisfying, but it was enough to keep you distracted from being worried about your husband. You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep, but the carriage around you had gotten a bit colder than it had been earlier in the night and you shivered, pulling your legs up onto the seat with you the best you could , garnering minimal relief. The relief didn’t last long, though, because the doors to the carriage swung open, startling you awake.

“Oh! Hello!”

Both you and David turned to see a man in a long coat wearing a hat standing outside the doors. David scrambled to his feet and he clumsily threw his book at the man before he grabbed you by your arms. By using his own weight as leverage, he tossed you towards the door and you let out a loud yelp, barreling through the doors on the opposite side of the carriage. You practically somersaulted down the one step into the carriage and rolled out onto the gravel with a loud oof.

Your hands skidded across the gravel and you were thankful for the gloves your husband told you to wear. You’d landed awkwardly on your stomach and looked up just in time to see David stumble out of the carriage as well, only to be knocked in the head by a dark haired man with a cane. David fell to the ground unconscious and you gasped, scrambling to your knees.

“David!” You cried, crawling over to the unconscious Durast on the ground. You gaped up at the man who had hit David and he stared back at you, dusting off his sleeve.

“He threw a book at me!” The man from the other side of the carriage had crawled through the open doors that you had just fallen-no, been thrown- out of, and he tossed David’s book aside. As soon as he looked down at you, he snapped his fingers and pointed, “You’re- you’re the princess of Ravka!” He exclaimed, and the man next to him with the cane raised his eyebrows.

You looked between the two of them before you let out a loud, forced peal of laughter, “Not me!” You exclaimed, clumsily rising to your feet, “I’m certainly no princess.”

The man with the hat shook his head and he grabbed the man with the cane’s shoulder, “No, no. You are the princess. I saw you at the fete! In the courtyard!” He snapped his fingers again and shook the other man’s shoulders, “saints! With The Darkling! She’s his wife!” He practically shouted, shaking the other man still.

The man with the cane reached up and brushed his hand off of his shoulder and he raised his eyebrows, “You’re sure?” He asked, his eyes scanning you as if looking for anything to confirm the accusations.

He had dark hair that hung in his eyes and he was tall, not taller than your husband surely, but still quite tall. His lips were pressed together in a perpetual sneer and he leaned against his cane dependently. He wore a long coat that dangled around his ankles and thick leather gloves.

“Yes! I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Kaz, that’s her!” The other man raved, and you wondered if he was going to start jumping for joy by the look on his boyish face.

The man with the cane- or Kaz, as the other man called him- seemed to think for a moment while looking at you before he gave the other man a short nod, “Get her in the carriage, then. I have an idea.”

You took a large step backwards as the man with the hat nodded and you held your hands out, “No, really, you are mistaken, I’m no princess!” You insisted, backing up slowly as the two men took steps towards you.

“Really? Because you aren’t Grisha. If you were, you’d be wearing a kefta. You aren’t a simple citizen, look at your clothes.” The man called Kaz reasoned, his voice low, bordering a whisper nearly.

You watched them wildly as you backed up. David wasn’t able to help, and there were no other Grisha in the area, your husband was nowhere to be found, so you had to be smart about your escape. You had never been in a situation where you had to think like this, and in such short time, too, so you did the only thing that came to mind in that moment.

You let out a scream that could’ve curdled the blood of anyone nearby and you took off running towards the nearest building, only stopping screaming when you had to breathe, and then you started back up again, hoping to grab the attention of anyone nearby. You heard footsteps behind you and you kept running, still screaming like you belonged in a madhouse.

It was a pathetic idea, really, and probably one of the worst ones you could’ve come up with given your circumstances, but it seemed to do the trick. You rounded a corner and pressed yourself up against the wall of a stone building. You put a hand over your chest, struggling to catch your breath, and you leaned your head back against the wall. Your heart hammed against your rib cage and you very slowly peered around the corner. No one was chasing you, and in the distance, you could see the carriage was gone. The only thing left was the lump on the ground that could have only been David. You panted like an overheating dog and you pushed yourself away from the wall and began to walk out towards David, when a hand caught your wrist and yanked you backwards. You let out the beginning of a scream, but a gloved hand clamped itself over your mouth, and you spun around to see your husband.

You shoved his hand away from your mouth and you threw yourself against his chest, wrapping your arms around him as if someone might try to pry you away from him. The thought of it only made you tighten your arms around him. You pressed your face against his chest and you let out a small cry of relief, shaking your head over and over again. He wrapped both of his arms around you protectively and he brought a hand up to hold the back of your head against his chest.

“You’re safe, you’re completely safe now, little love.” He shushed you, soothingly petting your hair.

He held you against his body so tightly that you thought the two of you might mold together, never to be separated again. He continued to shush you and whisper assurances of your safety into your ear, petting your hair softly. Your heart raced in your chest still and you struggled to catch your breath for a long time. You were thankful that he didn’t ask any questions while you chased desperately after your own breath, and finally, after some time, you had caught it once more. Your heart began to slow down and you began to feel less tense.

“That’s right, darling. Just breathe. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.” He whispered, leaning down to press a few kisses against your hairline.

You let out a long sigh and you held him tighter, acutely aware of the way your hands shook, as well as your arms and your legs.

“Tell me what happened, my little y/n.” He instructed, sliding his fingers into your hair comfortingly.

You nodded once and you grasped the collar of his kefta tightly, “Two men, they attacked David and I, and one of them recognized me from the fete and,” you paused to let out a sharp sigh and then you lifted your head away from his chest and looked up at him, “and then the other one, he said he had an idea, and told the one who recognized me to grab me and put me in the carriage and-“

Your husband reached up and cradled your face in his hands and he stared down into your eyes, “Are you hurt?” He asked.

When he looked into your eyes, you still got butterflies, even though you’d stared into them countless times before, and you were not exempt from that sensation this time.

“No, no I’m not hurt-“

“I heard you scream. I came as quickly as I could because I thought someone had hurt you.” He explained, swiping a gloved thumb across your cheek.

“I screamed to get someone- anyone’s- attention.”

“Clever girl.” He whispered and leaned down to press a kiss onto your lips. His lips were cold, as were yours, but that didn’t stop you from kissing him back as if it were the first time you’d seen him in years. He kissed you hungrily as if your lips could properly satiate a state of starvation and it stole the breath out of your lungs.

Your husband broke away from the kiss and sucked in a well-needed breath, his hands still clutching your face. He leaned down again and he nuzzled his nose against yours, a small smile covering his lips.

“I’m so glad you are safe.” He murmured, pulling away from you.

You didn’t want him to let go of you and you gave him a frown as he moved back. He let out a chuckle and reached out to grab your hand, holding it tightly in his own, making you feel relieved.

He squeezed your hand reassuringly and then he cleared his throat, “Come. We should go check on David with the others.”

“And my brother, Nikolai, he climbed on that horse like it was no big deal. Vasily didn’t really have the same luck and he got his foot stuck in the stirrup, poor fool, and his horse panicked and began to run around and Vasily went flying. He was never quite gifted with the horses I’m afraid.” You recalled.

You had been chatting with David as you, your husband, and two other Grisha, plus David, walked through the cold, snowy forest in search of Alina Starkov, and a boy that she had run away with named Mal. Your husband had seemed much too absorbed with his hunt to carry a conversation with you, so you had opted to talk with David, who you had taken quite the liking to.

“Did he ever ride horses again?” David asked, brushing a few flakes of snow off of his arms.

“Oh, he tried, but Nikolai and I always outshined him so he took up sword fighting, only to be outshined again by Nikolai.” You explained.

You cozied up to your husband’s side as you walked hand in hand, and he glanced down at you, likely to make sure you weren’t freezing to death. Once he had deduced that you were fine, he leaned down and pressed an affectionate kiss to your forehead. You beamed at the show of affection and you giggled. The two of you had been joined at the hip ever since he had found you much earlier that morning after being chased by the men that stole his carriage. He’d not let you out of his sight even once, not even when he’d gone into town to question a few people about Alina’s whereabouts.

Once he had figured out that Alina was in the forest hunting a stag, the six of you had set out into the forest, which quickly became covered in a thick blanket of snow. Aleksander had made sure that you put your cloak back on and he tugged the hood over your head, making sure that you were as bundled up as you possibly could be.

David hummed next to you and he looked around the forest, “So you ride horses?”

“Magnificently. Or, so she says.” Your husband answered for you, letting out a little laugh.

You looked up at him with a broad smile and instantly you were rendered breathless. Snowflakes laid on top of his head gracefully and the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose was adorably pink. In the light that had become bluish from the surrounding snow, his skin seemed to sparkle like marble and his eyes gleamed darkly.

He looked like a god.

It was so hard for you to believe that he himself hadn’t been labeled a saint just as Alina had.

He noticed your stare and he leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your lips.

“Staring is rude, Your Grace. Didn’t mommy and daddy teach you that?” He teased, pulling you closer to his side.

“I’m not staring. I’m admiring.” You corrected.

He chuckled and gave your hand a little squeeze as he continued walking through the snow with you, “Are you doing alright? Are your boots getting wet? Shall I carry you?” He asked and you wiggled your toes in your boots.

Your feet were freezing, but nothing had managed to soak through your boots yet, thankfully. You shook your head and leaned against his arm, “I’m okay.”

He nodded and led you through the snow with him. The only sounds around you now was the snow crunching underneath your boots and the small humming sounds David made ever so often. After a few moments of only these noises, David cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Sir,” he spoke, and your entire group stopped walking. Aleksander clutched your hand in his tightly and David continued speaking, “She is close by.” He stated.

You looked around at the snow covered trees and then at the ground for any signs of footprints, but you saw nothing. Your husband took a few steps forward with you in tow, and he slowly dropped your hand, taking one step ahead of you. He nodded once and then looked back over his shoulder at David and the others.

“Good. This is good. You all know what to do when we find them. We must act quickly.” He then turned to you and he gently grabbed your forearms and pulled you close to him, “as for you. You are to stay out of sight. Behind a tree, in a bush, I don’t care, but out of sight. Alina wouldn’t hurt you, that I know. But her little orphan friend… I don’t know him. I know little to nothing about him. I won’t risk it.”

“Why don’t you just leave her with me, General? And we can stay back a bit.”

You both turned around, and a Squaller by the name of Zoya took a step forward.

“I can surely keep her safe.” She added, taking another step forward.

“Or I can.” David interjected.

“No, that won’t do,” he said, talking over the two of them, “Zoya, I need you with the rest of us, and David I’ll need you to extract the antlers on the stag.”

Both of them contemplated for a moment but eventually they both nodded and your husband looked down at you, “You will be perfectly safe, my love. I’m sure of that.”

Perhaps he sensed your trepidation, and you figured he had, because he wrapped you in his arms and he tucked your head underneath his chin.

“I’d take a thousand bullets before I let you get hurt, my dear.” He whispered and rocked you back and forth in his arms.

“That’s what I worry about.” You whispered, hiding your cold face against his warm neck.

“Oh, my little love, believe me when I say, I will always find my way back to you.” He promised, holding you closer. You nodded once and he pulled back to kiss your cold nose, “Come on, we must keep moving.” He said softly and grabbed your hand once more.

He pulled you along and the rest of the group followed suit. You looked over your shoulder at David who gave you a tentative smile and a little wave. Zoya stood behind him and she looked as if it was paining her to not argue with your husband. You slowly turned to face forward again and your throat felt a bit tight. You had a feeling in the pit of your stomach that nothing good could come of this excursion.

You had only walked for maybe half an hour more when suddenly your husband stopped you. He turned around slowly and nodded up ahead, beckoning the other Grisha forward. Something in the distance began to glow brightly, turning the forest blue from the way the light reflected on the snow. Your husband grabbed your waist and he pulled you off of the path towards a cluster of bushes.

He gently pushed you down so that you were hidden behind them and he gave you a very small, tense smile.

“Stay here. You will be safe.” He promised and patted the top of your head once before dashing off, the others following hot on his heels.

For a moment, it was silent. You couldn’t even hear the snow crunching underneath the feet of the Grisha you had been traveling with anymore.

You wrapped your arms around your knees as you sat in the snow behind the bushes and your teeth began to chatter mercilessly now that you weren’t moving, you weren’t staying very warm.

The silence was pierced by a loud, animalistic bellowing, and you jumped slightly, scrambling up onto your knees to peer over the bush. You couldn’t see much now, because the light had gone out, but you could see the moon illuminating the outline of a large stag, flailing about. It tumbled to the snowy ground and you brought a hand up to your mouth in horror. You sunk back down so that you couldn’t see any longer, not wanting to see any longer.

The distant sound of a gunshot made your stomach do a flip and you clapped your hands over your ears, feeling overwhelmed and nervous again. Someone cried out loudly and suddenly you could see bursts of light resonating all over the forest. It cast shadows through the trees and lit up the snow falling around you, giving it a shimmering effect as it floated down to the white ground.

Alina’s power, you guessed, slowly pulling your hands away from your ears.

Another surge of light was cast forth and you worriedly popped your head up over the bushes again, squinting to see in the distance. A large weblike dome of light was shimmering brightly in the clearing, and you could see the impossibly dark form of your husband standing near it. People were speaking, shouting, but you couldn’t make out coherent words. The dome of light tumbled down and faded away, and it became too dark for you to see anything. You slowly sunk back down behind the bush and you pulled your cloak around your shoulders tightly, just in time to hear a great crack echo in the forest around you and a sour taste filled your mouth. You hadn’t seen him do it more than once, only in demonstrations during trainings, but you were certain that your husband had just used the Cut, just by the sound alone.

Whether it was on Alina, her soldier friend, or the large stag, didn’t really matter to you. Your stomach felt upset at the thought of any living thing being split in two by the powerful feat that your husband was capable of.

You suddenly felt very out of place, much like someone who had just seen something that they weren’t supposed to see. An uneasiness spread through your veins slowly, and it seemed to make you colder and colder by each passing second. You longed to be back home in Os Alta, in your bedroom. The one in the Grand Palace. You wanted to have tea with your silly mother and cry in her arms over the fear you felt.

Your eyes prickled with tears and it was perhaps the only warming sensation that you had at the moment. You just wanted to be home. Safe in your bed, warm, just… home.

Heavy footsteps made the snow crack and crunch nearby, and you quickly wiped your eyes and rose to your feet just in time to see your husband come around the side of the bush. There was a coldness about the way he held himself and his eyes were perhaps icier than the snow that was falling all around. He held his hand out for you silently and you tentatively took it. He pulled you against his chest in one fluid movement and you shivered, wrapping your arms around his torso. He pulled the sides of his cloak around you, encircling you much like a cocoon, and you laid your cheek against the center of his chest, ignoring the cold metal on his kefta as it pressed against your cheek.

“You’re freezing.” He commented, his voice almost completely devoid of the tenderness it contained just ten minutes before.

You sniffled and you shook your head, tears finding their way out of the corners of your eyes, “Can we go home?” You asked quietly, your voice shaking.

“There’s more to be done.”

“Then can you send me home?” You begged, holding onto him tighter.

Your husband let out a long sigh and he pulled away from you and grabbed your chin with his bare, freezing hand. His eyes were locked with yours and his face was emotionless, save for the small smile that formed on his lips, that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I am your home.”

“Here, one more, perhaps?” Zoya Nazyalensky suggested, wrapping you in your fourth blanket. You felt heavy underneath the blankets’ weight and you looked up at her, shaking your head.

“Four will do, thank you, Zoya.” You mumbled, giving her an appreciative nod.

You’d never been more thankful for a tent in your entire life. The walk through the forest was the hardest thing you’d ever done, especially at night. The snow and the wind had begun to bite at you and you were so cold that you felt like every movement was akin to the slice of a blade. At some point, your legs had practically given out and your husband had to carry you the rest of the way, but you were sure he didn’t mind all that much.

Now you sat on a cot in your husband’s expansive tent and Zoya was tending to you gingerly while your husband sat with David across the tent at a table. They spoke in hushed tones while David crafted something with the antlers of the stag, and every so often your husband would turn around to check on you.

You had finally warmed up again now that you were wrapped in four layers of blankets plus another one of your husband’s thick cloaks, and you felt exhausted. The weight of the day was heavily sitting upon your shoulders and you pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top of them, eyes drooping just slightly.

“Zoya. You may go. I can tend to my wife now.” Your husband said from across the tent.

The Squaller nodded once and gave your shoulder a little squeeze before she left the tent, leaving you alone with Aleksander and David.

Your husband stood up from his chair and he walked to you. He sat down next to you on the cot and he reached up to smooth back your hair. Every trace of coldness from earlier in the forest was gone now, and he was staring at you with nothing but adoration in his gaze.

“My beautiful girl. You look so tired.” He commented softly, leaning in to press his lips against your temple.

“I’m exhausted,” you admitted, leaning into his kiss, “and I’d love you to come lay with me. I want you to hold me.” You whispered.

“And I’d love nothing more, little love. But David and I need to get Miss Starkov taken care of.” He murmured, tucking a bit of your hair back behind your ear, “Once we get this amplifier dealt with, you and I can get some sleep.”

You crinkled your brow confusedly, “Amplifier? What’s that?” You asked, looking up at him confusedly.

“It’s like… a very powerful object that can amplify and strengthen a Grisha’s abilities. Some come from parts of powerful Grisha, some come from animals,” he explained, cupping your cheek with one hand, “this is what we needed the Stag’s antlers for.”

You stretched out a bit until you were almost lying down and you slowly directed your head down onto his lap, “Why give it to Alina? Why not keep it for yourself? If she’s so against helping you, won’t that make it so she can revolt on a much wider scale?”

“Well, I am keeping it for myself. Part of it for me, part for her. It will give me, for lack of better word, control over her abilities. Theoretically.” He said, laying his hand down on the side of your head as you laid in his lap.

You nodded once and then he leaned down to kiss the side of your head, “Why don’t you go sit over there with David, love? Ivan will be along with Alina shortly.”

“Do I have to be in here while this happens?” You asked nervously and your husband brushed his fingers across your cheekbone.

“I’m not sending you out into the cold again, so this is preferable. Just sit and be quiet. The sooner we can get this over with, the sooner you and I can get some sleep. How does that sound?” He asked tenderly.

You nodded in response and he slowly helped you up out of the cot. He took your blankets away from your shoulders and he adjusted the heavy, black cloak around your shoulders. He nodded towards David who sat at a little table on the other side of the tent and you quickly walked over to him and sat down.

“Hello, Princess.” David said warmly, not looking up from his work.

You looked down at his project and you tipped your head to the side. It was almost as if he’d made a necklace out of the antlers.

“Is that the amplifier? A necklace?” You asked, the word sounding strange in your mouth.

“A collar,” he hummed, glancing up at you, “You warmed up at all?” He asked before looking back down at the antlers.

“Oh, yes.” You replied, blinking a few times in surprise. A collar?

David rose from the table and he took his work with him, setting it on a table in the middle of the tent instead.

You stayed put in your chair and you watched as your husband stood across the tent and eyed David before turning away. You looked at David, too, who was wringing his hands together for the briefest of moments before he lowered his hands back to his sides. The air in the tent was tense and you folded your hands in your lap and looked down at the ground.

The only thing that dragged your gaze upwards was the faint sound of a struggle coming closer and closer until Ivan entered the tent with Alina in tow. He pushed her down onto her knees in the middle of the space and she protested loudly.

“Get your hands off of me, you brute!” She hissed, trying to squirm away from Ivan.

But Ivan didn’t budge, managing to still hold her down with ease.

You looked up as your husband and gave a nod to David and he stepped forward to grab the antler collar. The Durast grabbed it delicately and took a step towards Alina.

“What are you doing?” The girl demanded, struggling against Ivan once more.

David awkwardly presented the collar to Alina and he blinked a few times, “I’m going to place this around your neck.” He answered, like it was the most obvious and casual thing in the world.

“I meant why?” Alina asked, ceasing to struggle a bit.

You flickered your gaze between Alina and David and you felt… off. Something felt wrong. You felt that consuming feeling again that you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been and you crossed your legs. You stuck your hands underneath your thighs to keep them from shaking and you looked down at Alina with a small, sympathetic frown. No one had really explained to you in detail why Alina was suddenly a threat, but you got the sense that there were a lot of sides to that story, and on the same note, you realized you’d probably never know the true one.

“I didn’t kill the Stag, it’s not my amplifier. He killed it,” she remarked and jutted her chin in your husband’s direction, “he gets its power.”

“You asked for this yourself, when we met.” Your husband spoke up.

Though you stared at him, he didn’t look at you once. You felt uneasy and homesick, though you tried not to be. The feeling would garner no sympathy from your husband.

Your husband took a half step forward and he set his jaw tightly, “To transfer your gift to someone who could use it.”

“I can use it now!” Alina hissed back, leaning forward as if she was going to frighten Aleksander.

Your husband moved closer to Alina and you watched the scene in front of you unfold uneasily. You pressed your lips together before biting down nervously on your bottom lip, an impending sense of doom shrouding your head.

“You know… so little.” Your husband spoke, hands clasped in front of him, “You’ll learn.” He added with a slight nod. There wasn’t a single bit of kindness in his eyes.

“I know things.” Alina protested, “General Kirigan, is it? Or is Aleksander a fake name too?” She spat and you straightened up.

You wondered how long she had known his real name and in what way she found out. You deduced that she had to have known before you, because he hadn’t seen her since you found out that night in the courtyard from Baghra. This realization hit you almost painfully and you bit down on the tip of your tongue, willing yourself not to get up and walk out of the tent.

“Careful with your words, Alina,” your husband warned, “consider whose life is in your hands.”

The girl on the floor looked fearful for just a moment before she grit her teeth and glared up at your husband, “You said you’d let him go.”

You assumed she meant Malyen and you shrunk back a bit in the chair. Your husband was dangling someone’s life above Alina Starkov’s head, like a cruel cat teasing a mouse.

Your husband smirked, “I said I would heal him. What happens next is up to you.” He breathed, tipping his head to the side slightly.

Alina deflated a bit on the floor and she looked around the room wildly. Her eyes met yours for a brief second and you thought you could see tears on her bottom lash line.

“None of this has been up to me!” She shouted.

Your husband now stood directly over Alina and he laid his hands at his sides.

You watched as your husband crouched in front of Alina and he clasped his hands together, taking a moment to think before he finally spoke.

“Do you know the only thing more powerful than you or me?” He asked. When she didn’t answer he pressed on, “The two of us. Together.”

Bile rose in the back of your throat and you nearly jumped to your feet. This was getting out of hand. You miserably placed a hand on your temple and you leaned against your hand, feeling rather deflated yourself. You found yourself wishing in that moment that you were the Sun Summoner. You wished that it was you that could give Aleksander what he craved most, whatever power he sought after tirelessly. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were ungifted and completely ordinary when placed next to Alina Starkov. You blinked back tears that threatened to fall and you cursed yourself, not wanting to cry here. Not now.

“Together, we can end all wars. We can protect our own. Is that not what you want?” He asked her, leaning a bit closer.

You swallowed thickly. Protect our own. He meant Grisha.

You didn’t fall under that category.

“Are we destroying the Fold?” Alina asked sternly, looking defeated.

Your husband hesitated and you looked over at him. His eyes darted to you for the briefest second before he let out a sigh.

“We can do anything…” he said, holding his hands out to Alina, “Together.”

You brought your hand up to your mouth to stop a cry and you closed your eyes tightly as the realization hit you. Your husband didn’t want to take the Fold down, he wanted to use it to strengthen his own claim to power. That’s why he seldom spoke of the subject with you, and that’s why Alina was fighting so hard against him. You felt foolish and you felt faint, as if your world had just crumbled at your feet. You stared at Alina with wide eyes that you were sure had tears shining in them, and the girl looked back at you. Her face showed sympathy and concern, and she took your husband’s hands and he pulled her to her feet, rising to his own in the process.

“You need to let her go, Aleksander.” Alina whispered, “Don’t put an innocent girl through your tyranny.” She begged, but your husband simply shot her a venomous look and walked away from her, towards you. David stepped forward with the collar in his hands and he looked tense.

Your husband stopped moving towards you mid step as if he had reevaluated his actions and he moved back towards David and Alina. You felt as if someone had torn your heart right out of your chest.

David placed the antlers against Alina’s collarbones and she began to breathe heavily as David grabbed another object. Your husband held his hand out towards David.

“What… what’s happening?” Alina stuttered.

David placed what looked like either bone or antler against the back of your husband’s outstretched hand and Alina looked at you, panicked.

“Wait, I don’t understand. What-“

But Alina didn’t get to finish. Behind her, Ivan held his hands up and you watched her eyes droop tiredly. David reached out to touch your husband’s hand and Alina’s collar and he took a breath.

You stood up from your chair as light began to emanate from Alina’s chest. The collar began to melt into her skin as if it were meant to be there and you felt nauseated. The fragment on your husband’s hand sunk into his skin the same way, and a bright light surrounded them.

The sight was macabre at best and your stomach turned. A sour, bitter taste covered your tongue and you clapped a hand over your mouth.

You wouldn’t know what happened next, because you dashed at full speed outside of the tent and your sock-clad feet had only barely touched the snow before you were emptying your stomach and its few contents out onto the white snow in front of you. You sunk down onto your knees in the snow and let out a sob, feeling empty. Betrayed. You felt like someone had completely maimed your insides and you pictured your heart looking like it felt. Visualizing a shredded internal organ only made you feel sick again, and you found yourself retching again. Tears spilled down your face and you reached up to wipe your mouth with the back of your sleeve. The snow soaked through your socks and it felt like you were standing on needles.

A blinding light spilled out from the tent behind you and you shakily rose to your feet and glanced over your shoulder. You waited to make sure no one was going to come after you, and you began to tromp through the snow. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster until you were running as fast as you could away from the tent. Your throat burned harshly and there was a disgusting taste on your tongue, making you gag while you sprinted towards the forest beyond. You let out a wail as you barreled towards the forest, and you almost had time to feel relieved before you felt your chest tighten impossibly. You froze. It was impossible to breathe and you dropped to your knees, clawing at your throat.

This has never happened to you before. Panic gripped you as you tried desperately to breathe, so consumed with trying to get a breath in that you didn’t even have time to react to the two hands that yanked you roughly to your feet.

Suddenly, you could breathe again and you sucked in the biggest breath that you possibly could have. Your relief was short lived, though, because you were spun around to face Ivan the stone faced Heartrender. You shrunk back just a bit before he bent down and lifted you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. You pummeled his back with weak fists as he brought you back to the tent easily.

Once he’d gotten you inside, he tossed you to the floor. You yelped as your head hit the ground and you closed your eyes and curled into a ball on the floor, feeling as if you’d been trampled by a stampede of elephants.

“Careful with her!” Your husband barked, somewhere in the tent.

You had assumed he meant Alina, but you were soon gathered up into your husband’s arms. You opened your eyes to see that he had knelt next to you on the floor and he pulled you into his lap, cradling you in his arms as if you were an infant.

You knew you shouldn’t have enjoyed the way his arms felt around you, but the truth was, you did. You felt a bit of pride bubble up in your chest as he held you in front of Alina who was in hysterics on the ground on the other side of the tent. The pride was short lived though, because that sick feeling overtook your system again and you tried to sit up.

“Little love, stay down.” He simpered, running his hand over your hair.

“I want to go home!” You wailed, collapsing tiredly against Aleksander, “Please take me home, I don’t want to be a part of this.”

“Shh, hush, my little princess. Would I ever do anything that would put you in harm’s way?” He asked, his voice as soft as the snow outside, “Answer me, y/n. Would I? Have I ever done anything to put you in imminent danger?”

You thought for a moment and then you shook your head, “N-no.”

“See? Why would I-“

“That’s a lie!” Alina screamed from across the tent, “It’s a lie and you know it! You’re endangering her just by having her here. She is only a girl, Aleksander! An innocent girl!”

Your husband looked up at Ivan and gave him a nod, “You may take Miss Starkov to the other tent, Ivan. She is frightening my dear wife.”

Ivan nodded and pulled Alina to her feet, dragging her out of the tent. She didn’t say another word the entire time. David remained where he stood, frozen in place. His eyes met yours from across the tent and they were full of regret.

“Tell me, sweet girl, what worries you?” He asked, coaxing your head down against his chest, forcing you to tear your eyes away from David. Your husband ignored the Durast’s presence.

You sniffled and you shook your head, “You don’t love me. You want me for power. Like you want Alina for power. Like you want the Fold for power.” You said shakily, though you allowed him to pull you closer.

“The only thing in the world I want more than power is you, y/n,” he said seriously, leaning down to speak into your ear, “I do love you. More than I’ve loved anyone in my life. I want Alina for power, sure, and I’d like to control the Fold for the same reason, but I want you because I love you. Not because I can garner power from you. I want you to be my queen. I want you to join me, be my strongest ally. I want you to be by my side as we rebuild this country. For the better.” He whispered, kissing the shell of your ear, “Don’t you want that, my love?”

You craned your neck away from him and you shook your head. Of course you wanted the country to be better, Ravka needed serious reformation. But not like this. Not his way.

“I want you to let go of me.” You whispered, placing your hands over his arms.

“I can’t do that, y/n. In my five hundred years of life-“

You turned your head towards him and you held your hand up to silence him, “Five hundred? You told me you were one hundred twenty. How can you expect me to be your strongest ally if I can’t even trust the things you say?” You asked sharply.

He looked down into your eyes for a long time and then he let out a slow, bored sigh, “These outbursts-“

“Oh, spare me. They’ll continue.” You spat.

“To what end, y/n? You cannot oppose me forever. It comes down to two options, and I’ll tell you how both will end and you can make your decision now. One, you can join me and stand by my side. You’ll have everything you ask for, you will be integral in the harmony between Grisha and otkazat'sya. You will live a life of free will and liberation as my wife, I’ll protect you always, you will be loved. Is that not what you’ve always wanted? To be loved? Not only by me, but by your entire country?” He looked down at you and he reached up to brush his thumb across your bottom lip, “Or, you can decline to join me and you will have nothing. I cannot offer you protection, and once I liberate Ravka, you will be labeled a traitor. You will live and die your life out in prison, and if not prison then exile. Oh, and until then? Your country will hate you. You will be cursed with the title of my wife for as long as you shall live. You’ll be treated no better than Grisha.”

Your jaw dropped and you looked up at Aleksander, “Even if I take your side, I won’t have free will. Not really. You’ll give me free rein of my pen but clip my wings so I can never get out of it. That isn’t free will, Aleksander.” You argued.

He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to your nose and he let out a sigh, “I will give you a week to make up your mind. Think about what’s at stake, darling.”

The side of your head hurt from where it hit the floor after Ivan had dropped you and your eyes felt heavy, but you refused to fall asleep in Aleksander’s arms. You crossed your own arms over your chest and you stared up at the ceiling of the tent. You watched your husband nod towards David in your periphery and then you heard shuffling near the opening of the tent, then silence.

With a shallow sigh, your husband adjusted his arms around you and slowly rose to his feet, lifting you with him. He carried you off to the other side of the tent and laid you out on the cot before covering you with blankets.

“Get some sleep, darling. We leave in the morning.” He said softly and reached down to smooth back your hair.

And though you closed your eyes, you didn’t get a moment of sleep that night.

Five days had gone by since the night your husband had given you his makeshift ultimatum, and for five days you’d done your very best to avoid him. You had spent four days on the road to the army encampment just near the Fold. For some parts of the day, you were holed up in a carriage with David, which you didn’t necessarily mind. He gave you space and only spoke to you when you initiated it first. Sometimes he’d silently pass his book to you and point at a passage. It was some sort of Grisha history book, you assumed, because the passages he’d shown you all pertained to Grisha magic, the Fold, amplifiers, or theories as to what had created the Fold. When you weren’t in the carriage with David, you were riding in front of your husband on his horse, and this is when you felt most miserable.

Aleksander acted like nothing had happened. He was sweet to you and always fussing about keeping you warm. He’d give you little kisses often as well as frequent affectionate touches, and with each one, you felt more and more confused.

There should have been no confusion, this situation was not a grey area. It was black and white, right and wrong. You wondered how he could claim to love you and then promise you a life of misery in the same breath.

He was right, though. You wanted love. Just… not like this.

You sat stiffly upon a plush chair and looked down at your dress, smoothing it out. You had been up since early in the morning, woken by Genya Saffin and your husband. Aleksander had left just after you awoke, but Genya stayed and got you dressed and ready, as if it was some kind of special occasion. As if crossing the Fold with your husband and Alina wasn’t some kind of fate worse than death. Your hair was piled on top of your head intricately and you had handfuls of fine jewelry hanging from your neck and wrists. You didn’t speak a word to Genya as she readied you, and you didn’t bid her farewell when she left.

Someone cleared their throat behind you and you turned around slowly, dreading the idea of seeing Aleksander.

You felt some semblance of relief when you saw it was only David standing at the opening of the tent holding a brown sack.

“May I come inside?” He asked quietly, looking around the tent. Probably checking for your husband.

“Sure, David.” You answered and he quickly walked inside, coming to stand next to where you sat.

“I um,” he paused for a long moment and then he sighed, murmuring something under his breath before he spoke finally, “I am worried about you, and your wellbeing.”

You shifted your eyes up towards his face and you raised your eyebrow, “I can hold my own. But I appreciate your concern.”

“Well no, I don’t think you can, Princess.” He said quickly, and you noticed how he pressed his nails into his palms nervously, “I don’t think you know the lengths that the Darkling will go to, to get what he wants.”

“I think I’m starting to get a pretty good idea.” You replied, folding your hands in your lap. Your black gown was heavy and thick, and you began to sweat under it, feeling a bit queasy.

David put the large sack he carried on your lap and he nodded at it once, “Inside of that, there are first army clothes. A hat, too. You don’t have long. The General is speaking to the Sun Summoner and then he will be on his way to fetch you.”

You were confused for a moment and you opened the bag, then you understood. David was trying to help you run away. You looked up at him with wide eyes and he clutched his hands together.

“David, I don’t know what to say.” You whispered and slowly stood up from the chair.

“Well, you don’t have to say anything. I just think you deserve a third option. The two that your husband gave you were… rather inhospitable. But I digress. I’ve already got a story worked out, I’ll blame your disappearance on Fjerdans, but if you want a shot at getting away from here, you need to take it now.” David said somberly, offering you a rather sad smile, “There are many places you can go. Or you can go home. It’s up to you. I’ve left a map and compass in the bag as well.”

There were loud voices outside the tent and David stiffened and he grasped your arm, “Whatever you do, though, just take care of yourself.” He whispered and then he was off, darting out of the tent, and likely putting as much distance between you and him as possible so that no one could place him there later for any reason.

You waited for only a moment to ensure that no one was coming, and when no one came, you quickly shed your gaudy black gown. You took the jewelry off of your neck and your wrists and put it in the bag before you yanked out the other clothes.

They weren’t cute and they were likely the least appealing pieces of clothing you had ever seen in your entire life. But you didn’t have the luxury of escaping in a glamorous ensemble. You shoved your legs into the pants and you pulled the shirt on rapidly before shrugging on the long coat that came with it. You sat down on the chair briefly to yank the tall boots onto your feet, not caring that they were two sizes too big. Wasting no time, you pulled your hair out of its twists and braids, yanked out the pins, and you pulled the hat on.

You prayed you were unrecognizable as you wildly looked around the room for a weapon of some sort, one for self defense. The only thing you found was a small, almost decorative dagger sitting on Aleksander’s desk. You snatched it up and threw it in the pocket of your coat, heart hamming against your chest. You took a few long, deep breaths before you willed your feet to move, to carry you swiftly out of the tent.

Once you were out, the cold air was an unwelcome slap in the face, and the unpleasant shiver you got was nearly enough to send you back into that tent. But you pushed on.

You weaved between tents and past other soldiers until you could finally see the horizon rather than just a fleet of tents. You stopped at the edge of the camp and looked over your shoulder. The Fold stood tall and unwavering behind you and everything before it looked tiny and breakable. Like toys in the hands of a destructive toddler.

A group of soldiers rushed past you shouting something in Ravkan repeatedly, and after hearing it about three times, you understood what they were saying.

The Princess has gone missing, find her immediately. Darkling’s orders.

You swallowed thickly and you quickly turned away from facing the Fold and walked as briskly as your feet would allow you, moving faster and faster until you were sprinting at full speed into the forest beyond the camp, far away from the Fold, away from Sun Summoners and Shadow Summoners, away from Aleksander’s promised gold gilded cage and a life of captivity.

Away from the darkness and into the light.

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