#another doodle that went too far
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Infectious kiss
#artists on tumblr#illustration#fight club#soapshipping#fight club 1999#the narrator fight club#tyler durden#ah the feeling of finally setting free the idea that's been rotting in your brain like a banana in a freezer#tyler bumps his hand into the narrator's to make their lips kiss#narrator doesn't realize it at first but when he does he loses his shit#I will not be normal about this from now on#his fight club server people you already know this 🤭#another doodle that went too far#I'm so sorry I'm incapable to just doodle#I need the colors#going back to cleaning hheuehuehe#martyryo
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can i steal his hair
#lies of p#lop#lies of p pinocchio#pinocchio#neowiz#carlo#lies of p carlo#lies of p fanart#another doodle bc i can't draw well#bleh i should buy this game#grrrrr gamepass went bye bye so i might as well just buy the game i'm not too far into it anyways
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graphic | mark lee
pairing: mark lee x afab reader
word count: 6.6K
summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!
author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡
working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.
you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.
on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.
you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.
the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.
so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.
sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?
you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.
you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.
the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?
you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.
you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.
after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”
“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.
“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”
“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”
“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”
“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.
mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.
“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.
“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”
“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”
“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”
“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”
“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”
“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.
“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.
“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”
“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”
“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”
“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”
he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”
“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.
for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?
you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.
you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.
you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.
“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”
you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.
he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”
he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.
“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”
“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”
“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.
“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.
“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.
“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”
you smile and accept it.
your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.
you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.
like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.
“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.
“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”
“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.
“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”
“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.
“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.
you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”
“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.
“you didn’t have to do that—”
“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”
you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.
“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.
“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.
“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”
“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”
you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.
sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin
you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.
sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it
you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.
the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.
“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”
“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”
“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”
“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”
“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”
“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”
“i will.”
the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.
it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.
he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.
after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.
you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.
you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”
mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”
you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.
he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”
“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.
you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.
after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.
“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.
“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”
“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”
“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.
“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.
“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”
he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”
you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.
there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.
you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.
you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.
you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.
it’s you.
the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.
it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.
“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”
mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.
“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”
“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”
“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”
“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“of course i like it,” you say.
“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.
“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”
mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”
mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.
a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.
“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.
he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.
he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.
his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—
“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.
you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.
“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”
he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”
“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.
suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.
he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.
you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—
“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.
he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.
he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.
he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—
“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—
“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.
his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.
“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.
you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.
“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.
“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.
it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.
“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”
“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”
all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.
his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—
“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”
“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.
with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.
“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”
he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.
he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—
“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.
“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”
he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.
he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.
his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.
he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—
“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.
he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.
and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.
“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.
he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.
“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.
“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.
“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”
“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.
“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.
“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.
“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.
a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!
✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho @haizbby @hoeforalbedo @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna
add me to the taglist!
#mark lee#mark lee smut#nct mark smut#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct smut#nct x reader#mark smut#mark lee x reader#nct imagines#nct hard thoughts#mark x reader
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The Princes
Ten years later. When marrying a Prince turns a Queen and a Servant into actual Royalties.
Because Vil deserves a real crown and Jamil deserves to be treated better.
NOW I'M GONNA RANT ABOUT MY CHARA DESIGNS CHOICES AND ALL THE DISCOVERIES I MADE WHILE LOOKING FOR REFS! If you only care about art and funny doodles, you can scroll down for a handful of slices of life.
(Don't worry if you can't read my notes, I'm repeating myself better right under this)
Leona
-Lion: As you may know, one of my grievances with Leona is how his hair doesn't look like an actual mane despite being a lion. While I don't want to stray too far from the canon design with the usual drawings, that's the occasion for me to have some fun with a future version. Give that lion a beard and voluminous hair!
-Hair: First, get those bangs out of his face. Despite Leona being very confident, he still has bangs covering his scarred eye. I wanted him to finally own the aspects of him that may be scary to others (his UM, his scar, etc). I actually went with bangs framing his face similar to the ones he had during his Overblot. I wasn't sure whether to give him dreadlocks or curly hair, but I ended up choosing the free curls decorated with some atebas and braids so that Vil could have more fun styling them.
-Eye: Thanks @aria-faye for the idea, I decided to have his eye gradually lose its capacities with time. From a headcanon that, while the eye wasn't directly touched by whatever attack scarred him, the process of healing still had an impact on it and he gradually lost sight in his left eye years after years.
-Body: Not giving him a dad bod (yet, maybe in another ten years), but definitely giving him more voluminous yet casual muscles. Practical muscles with a healthy dose of fat and tissues. Also giving him two full sleeves of tattoos because I decided he should have much more than just his lion tattoo.
-Clothes: Went full Maasai dressing and Kenyan fabrics and beadworks. If you're not familiar with it, please go check it out, it's GORGEOUS!! Crown is beadwork too. He also has one Arabic styled foot jewellery.
Jamil
-Hair: My first order was to remove his double-faced hairstyle and also remove his bangs from his eye. Make him confident enough to show his whole face. Unlike Leona and Vil, he doesn't really want a crown though (he still feels weird about becoming royalty) so instead he uses a braid as crown. Also gave him a little goatee because I like facial hair and Jafar has a beard too.
-Body: He grew up! While he didn't quite catch up with Leona and Vil, he is now closer to their sizes than before, sitting at around 180cm. He kept his breakdancer/martial artist lean muscles but developed a bit of shoulders.
-Clothes: Went full Arabic dressing and fabrics (once more, go check the fabrics, they are pieces of arts). I gave him floral motifs instead of his usual fire/snake motifs (though he does have a snake earring and a fangs necklace) to symbolise his rebirth/blooming. Like Leona, he has one piece of jewellery that is beadwork.
Vil
-Hair: Here it was a bit tricky. Considering Vil's work, he likely changes hairstyles a lot, going from long to short for his roles instead of his wants. So I leaned into the little things he could add to his hair despite their constant changes, mostly jewelleries, beadworks and wool decorations he stole from his husbands. He also cares a bit less about them looking perfect and is allowing himself to be more natural. He doesn't have any facial hair (yet), keeping a youthful appearance for as long as he can. In another ten years though, he might start looking more and more like his father, beard included.
-Clothes: For Leona and Jamil's mental states, the three of them most likely started living in Sunset Savanna so they wouldn't freeze to death. Vil is well traveled so he can handle most temperatures without trouble, and he is used to dressing up in the local get ups. Here I decided to give him both African dress and Arabic fabric, and likewise both beadwork and golden jewellery. I gave him crown and heart motifs so he can keep being himself despite borrowing a lot from his husbands.
There, I'm done rambling. Here's some doodles, followed by some random headcanons.
-Vil does his husbands hair every morning and keeps giving them more and more intricate hairstyles. He developed a whole haircare and beard-care products set for them.
-When Vil is away for a movie, Jamil keeps his hair mostly down save for a few accessories.
-Jamil and Falena get along surprisingly well (to Leona's despair). Vil gets along very well with Falena's wife.
-Jamil acts as a Scalding Sands ambassador and still is the one to care for Kalim when he comes to visit, though this time he's doing it because he wants to and not because he has to.
-Vil got used to his new title immediately but Jamil struggles with it a lot. He still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he is no longer a servant.
-The servants at the palace love Jamil because he always makes their job easier.
-Leona finally decided to put his wits to good use and became Falena's advisor. He still fights a lot with Kifaji about the direction to take with the country, but he managed to make some of his ideas heard to help with the staggering inequalities in the country.
That's all for now!
#so... that's officially my longest piece to date#this one took me nearly 10 hours#and I'm considering doing a colored version because Arabic and Kenyan fabrics are so beautiful I swear#won't happen in a while tho#mello's drawings#n2 squad#jamil viper#leona kingscholar#vil schoenheit#javil#leojami#leovil#twisted wonderland#twst#art#my art#analysis#Future!N2
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Lando calling his wife "lovie" got me 🥹🥹🥹
And just the image of him cooing about a milk drunk baby is enough to send my ovaries into combustion!
Would you maybe write a little bit more about it, like maybe Lando posting or sending his family pictures of his milk drunk babies because he thinks it is the cutest/funniest thing?
Note: you and me both, anon!
"Tell me this isn't the cutest, squishiest face you have ever seen!", Lando groaned softly as he admired your babygirl while he walked in the Silverstone paddock, "I have to admit that's a pretty cute baby", Ted said into his microphone.
"Pretty cute? Tilly is the cutest", Lando stated, adjusting the hat on her head to shield her face from the sunshine that graced his home race weekend, "she has her tummy full and she was out like a light, nothing can bother her, she's in her own little world", Lando smiled, delighting everyone who saw the infections of the new father and his babygirl.
"It's extra special, no? Your home race, your family is here - the youngest Norris is here too - and a pole position that by the looks of it could get you a home race win", Ted wondered.
"Yes, it definitely is, we're not taking anything for granted until we race, obviously, but the spirits are definitely high", he smiled, kissing Matilda's cheek as she made a little noise, "I had another question to ask you but this little one made it fly out of my brain, actually", Ted chuckled as he shook his head.
"She usually has that effect on people, you can't really pay attention to anything else", Lando smiled proudly.
.
"Little man is down, was absolutely milk drunk and went out like a light", you said as Lando stepped out of the en suite bathroom, crawling up to you in bed and stroking the baby's soft cheeks, "He's so sleepy, look at him", you cooed, "he fell asleep with my nipple still in his mouth, I barely got a burp out of him before he was knocked right out", you smiled.
"We make really cute kids, don't we, lovie?", Lando said, resting his head on your chest and facing Fraser, and from your point of view, it was clear this baby would become a Lando clone soon enough.
"So far, they all look the most like you, so you're really just tooting your own horn", you scoffed playfully, "these cute cheeks and pouty lips, lovie? They're all you", Lando charmed, making you blush.
.
"Can you give her the bottle, please?", you asked Lando, "I need to make sure Matilda is not doodling instead of doing her homework", you kissed Lando's lips and baby Charlotte's cheek.
"Let's warm this up for you, babygirl", Lando said as he put the milk in the bottle and popped it in the warmer, "you're hungry, aren't you? And fighting sleep so I've heard - you gave mummy a full on afternoon", he giggled, pulling funny faces as she giggled at her father's antics.
"Off we go then, open up - there we go, Lottie", he smiled as she suckled, finally get her tummy full as he walked around bouncing her, "hopefully you'll sleep because you really need it, and that way you can also give mummy a little bit of a rest, just so enough me and her can have a cuddle, you know?", he playfully tsked, "you've been stealing all of my cuddles", he giggled as he looked at her precious face. Life had been generous enough with him - he had the woman of his dreams, a career he loved and their three little ones. Life was good.
After burping Charlotte, Lando rocked her to sleep, which didn't prove to be very hard as she was milkdrunk as ever, her little mouth opened as she rested on his chest.
"Tilly is doing fine and Fraser is happily playing with his toys", you said as you sat down on the sofa next to your husband, your daughter happily sleeping on his chest, "take a picture of this cute face and send it to the groupchat, please", Lando whispered as he gave you his phone so you could dot it.
Lando: Look at this cutie 🥰
Flo: Look at her chubby cheeks, I can't!
Cisca: She looks so out-of-it-milkdrunk, I bet she's having a good nap!
Lovie: Seeing her like this almost makes it look like she wasn't wide awake the whole afternoon - she never closed those big eyes, she was always staring at me!
Adam: look at our little girl 😍
"You're so loved, babygirl", you said, brushing the hairs on her head, cuddling closer to your husband.
"Finally I am the one getting a cuddle from mummy", Lando cheered, kissing your lips, "jealous much, handsome?", you teased, "just wanted a cuddle from you, woman! This one has hogged your boobs from me - I have to take what I can get!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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Dog Days
dog dad!Nico Hischier x dog mom!reader
masterlist
summary: a dog park meet cute with the potential to change your life. or: months ago, @theemporium & i went down a spiral ab that picture of Nico & the dog with the devil horns. this fic is what came out of it. 10.1k words
warnings: mentions of alcohol, doodle slander (adopt don’t shop)
There’s a guy in the dog park who’s staring at you. Really, you should be more nervous about it, because he’s a large man, and you don’t know him, and he keeps looking at you. But his dog- Bernie, you think he called her- is cute, and she’s getting along great with your dog, so you’re a bit inclined to let it slide. Besides, he’s not being creepy. He’s probably just checking to make sure you’re okay with your dogs playing together. He’s here often- you recognize him well, but it’s the first time the dogs have taken interest in each other.
You watch another dog join the fray, some sort of hypoallergenic doodle, if you had to guess. The type that costs thousands of dollars for no apparent reason. It’s wearing a Patagonia puffy jacket, which makes you laugh. You hide it behind your hand. You watch as the dog bows low between your dog and Staring Guy’s dog, and then the doodle rolls over in the mud, and-
“Excuse me!” Someone yells. “Excuse me- hey, you! Is that your dog?”
You turn and blink, realizing the woman is talking to you. She’s storming your way in her matching Patagonia coat, face red with anger. You stare, eyes wide. Staring Guy is looking, too, not even trying to hide it now.
“Um. Which one?” You ask.
She gestures wildly. “The- that black mutt,” she hisses. You frown. “The one who was in the mud with my Bessie.”
Staring Guy snorts from his spot twenty feet away. Your eyes flicker to his, and he’s holding back laughter. You chew on your lip to keep yourself from doing the same.
“Yeah, that’s Moose,” you say, turning to look over your shoulder. Moose and Bernie have abandoned Bessie in the mud, more interested in sticks. “Sorry, is something wrong?”
“Yes! My dog is covered in mud now!” The woman snaps, and you rear your head back. “I mean, honestly-“
“Oh, yeah, she really seemed to like that puddle,” you agree, nodding. “You know how dogs are.”
She shakes her head angrily. “Not my Bessie. She’d never do that. So.”
“So?”
“So are you going to pay for her grooming? And the dry cleaner for her coat, oh, that coat-“ the woman sighs. “She’d have never done this if she hadn’t been influenced-“
You turn to look over your shoulder, to where Bessie is still rolling in the mud. “I’m sorry. Are you trying to say my dog influenced yours to roll in the mud? And now you want me to pay for- you understand how ridiculous you sound, right?”
She huffs. “Bessie is a well behaved, purebred Bernedoodle. Yours is-“
She stammers, so you fill in the gap. “Moose is a rescue.”
“Right, so-“ she waves her hand. “You see what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.” You say, incredulously.
The woman is so angry, now, that her whole face has gone beet red. She lurches towards you, and you take a couple steps back. Her hands are in fists at her sides. You’re not exactly afraid of her, but you hadn’t been planning on getting into a fistfight in the dog park, and she’s making you feel a little uneasy.
“Hey,” a deep voice says. You turn and find Staring Guy, walking up with his hands in his pockets, brows furrowed. “Everything okay?”
You widen your eyes at him, praying he gets the message. He sends you a smile, turning up the corners of his mouth softly. He has a kind face, warm brown eyes, thick eyebrows that arch over them. The woman goes off on her tirade again, about her precious Bessie and your awful influence of a mutt, and how you hadn’t done anything to stop them from playing in the mud. Staring Guy’s dog comes trotting up as she goes on and on, and Moose isn’t far behind. He winds himself in front of your legs, and you reach down to fix one of his ears, the one that always gets flipped inside out. Bessie isn’t far behind. You chew on your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of her, soaked in mud.
“Oh, that’s probably Bernie’s fault, actually,” Staring Guy says, dark brows furrowed. “She really loves the mud. She’s the one who started it.”
The woman splutters. “Oh- but- well- I’m not sure-“
Staring Guy shakes his head. He takes a couple steps forward, effectively placing himself between you and her. Your heart melts just a little. Moose looks up at him, and his ear flips back inside out. You sigh at the sight of him- he is covered in mud, and it’s going to be a pain to get him cleaned up.
“I just think she should’ve tried to keep them out of the mud.” The woman says, though she’s calmed down a bit.
Staring Guy’s deep voice and large stature seem to have calmed her down a bit. If you’re being honest, he’s calmed you, too. He’d make a good mediator, you think. He’s soothing.
“It’s a dog park, not a doggy day care,” he says, voice a little bit more tense. “You’re responsible for your own dog. Says so on the sign.”
The woman huffs and looks between the two of you. She seems to realize she’s getting nowhere, and she marches off, leash in hand, headed for poor Bessie, who’s likely in for the bath of a lifetime. You and Staring Guy watch her go, staring as she stomps across the park, to the gate, and all the way out to her shiny car. She steps in a puddle on the way out and splatters mud up her jeans. You hunch over and start to giggle.
Staring Guy lets out a laugh, too. “That was fucking ridiculous,” he says.
You nod, unable to speak as the laughter takes over. Moose sits down on the grass and stares up at you. Bernie sits down next to him and does the same. They both look incredibly concerned. You wipe tears of laughter from your eyes and stand up.
“I mean, she’s probably right, Moose is definitely a bad influence,” you say, cooing down at your dog. “I mean, look at him.”
Staring Guy laughs and tilts his head. “His name’s Moose?”
“Basic, I know,” you shrug. “They were calling him that at the shelter. I felt bad changing it, so here we are.”
Staring Guy shakes his head. “No, I like it. It’s a good name. This is Bernie,” he says, nudging his dog with his knee. “And I’m Nico.”
He sticks out his hand to shake. You do so, and introduce yourself, too. He repeats your name back to you with a soft smile. Bernie seems to take this as a sign, and she walks up to you, sniffing the air, tail wagging wildly. You crouch down to pet her, running your hands through her thick, sandy fur. She pants happily.
“She’s adorable,” you say, looking up at Nico. “Golden retriever?”
He shrugs. “Mostly, I think. She’s a rescue. I thought about doing one of those dog DNA things, but…”
“It never feels important enough,” you fill in. He’s scratching Moose’s head, and he nods, grinning. “Moose is a rescue, too.”
“They’re the best kind of dogs,” he says, finding the spot behind Moose’s ear that makes his left leg thump against the ground. Nico laughs. “No Schnoodles or Whoodles for me.”
You laugh and stand up, wiping your hands on your jeans. Moose looks between you and Nico, tail wagging happily. Not for the first time, you wonder what he’s thinking. You wish you could read his mind.
“Well, we’ve got to go,” Nico says, toying with the dog leash. “But it was nice to meet you.”
“It was nice to meet you both,” you say, giving Bernie one last head pat. “Thanks for your help.”
He shrugs. “Not a problem.”
…..
Weeks slip by, and Nico stays a constant in them. Wednesdays and Fridays, you find him at the dog park in the mid afternoon, Bernie waiting eagerly for you to let moose off his leash. The two of you chat and watch your dogs play and then bid each other farewell to go back to your own lives. It’s nice. He’s nice.
“Are you busy?” Nico asks one afternoon, shoulder nearly touching yours.
Moose and Bernie are playing in a pile of leaves, a week post Bessie-mud incident. You watch as the wind picks one up, and Moose chases after it. Bernie chases after him. You turn to look at Nico, feeling slightly confused.
“Like, now?” You ask.
He nods. “Now, and for a little while? There’s this dog friendly coffee shop down the street. I was going to take Bernie there. Though maybe you’d want to come with me.”
Your heart jumps. He wants you to come with? He wants to see you outside of this dog park, outside of the primary meeting spot. He wants to see you.
You nod. “Yeah, sure, that sounds sweet. You’re not gonna murder me, right?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “No, I’m not. Has anyone ever said yes to that?”
“Nope,” you say. “And I’m still alive, so it’s working.”
The two of you gather up the dogs and head for the coffee shop. They walk together happily on their leashes- matching ones from the same brand. You and Nico chat about the leashes, and dog supplies in general, and your favorite pet stores. By the time you make it to the coffee shop, you’ve run out of dog topics and moved on to other ones. You talk about coffee and New Jersey and home- which is Switzerland, for Nico, which explains the accent. You order coffee and pastries and take a seat at one of the outdoor tables. The early afternoon sun is shining down. There’s an autumn chill in the air, but the sun takes the edge off.
Nico gets dodgy when you start talking about work. At first, you wonder if he’s some sort of politician- he has the face for it- or a business guy. He doesn’t seem like the type to work in the tall buildings in the city, crunching numbers and barking orders. You’re not sure what else would’ve brought him to the US from Switzerland, though.
“D’you watch hockey?” He asks, and you blink.
“Not really,” you shrug. “It was never my thing. A few of my friends are big fans, though.”
“Of the Devils?” He asks, nodding his head down the street, where, if you walked far enough, you’d find the Prudential Center, home of New Jersey hockey.
You nod and swallow a sip of your coffee. “Mhm. S’that what you do for work? You work for the Devils?”
He shrugs, then nods. “Basically.”
You let it go, then. Maybe he’s just trying to be careful- after all, he barely knows you. You’d done the same, been careful about not telling him where you work. He seems trustworthy enough, but you can never be too careful. The two of you move on to more important topics- which donuts are best, and what the best restaurants in town are. The afternoon slips away quickly and quietly, and you only realize you’re late when your friend calls you.
“Shit,” you mutter, standing up. “I know I said I wasn’t busy but- I have to meet my friends for drinks, and I’m probably going to be late-“
“It’s okay,” Nico says, softly. “I’ve gotta go too. But this was really nice.”
You smile softly. “It was. We should do it again sometime.”
You both wave goodbye and take off down the street in different directions- you, back towards your apartment to drop off Moose, and him towards his, you assume. You can’t wipe the smile off your face the whole way, and it’s still stuck there by the time you slip into the booth at the restaurant a half hour later.
“I’m so sorry,” you gush, as your friend Alyssa sends you a glare. “I was out at the dog park with Moose, and then I lost track of time, and-“
Your other friend Nora laughs. “Were you too busy staring at Dog Park Guy?”
Your face grows hot. “His name’s Nico.”
Both of them blink at you. “Did you actually talk to him?”
You let out a long sigh and launch into the story- Bessie and her bitchy owner, Nico’s rescue, the increased interactions, and the cafe today. Their eyes grow impossibly wider.
“Sounds like a meet cute,” Nora squeals.
“If he’s cute,” Alyssa adds.
You roll your eyes and ignore the looks they’re giving you. “We’re just friends. Because our dogs are friends.”
“Like I said,” Nora says. “Cute.”
Eventually they drop the subject. You have your drinks and catch up, and make plans to hang out again the next night. Alyssa wants to watch the hockey game. She’s the biggest Devils fan you know, could name every player and all of their stats. You and Nora agree to watch, as long as she provides the alcohol.
You show up just after the game starts the next afternoon, Moose in tow. You snag a plate and grab some snacks and join Alyssa on the couch.
“Can you grab me a beer?” You call out to Nora, who’s in the kitchen.
She returns with a bottle in hand, passing it off to you. You thank her and curl up further on the couch, turning to look at the TV. You wonder if Nico’s working, if he has to be at the games or if he does more of the behind the scenes stuff. Maybe he runs the charity branch. That would fit him. You take a sip of your beer, and then nearly spit it right back out.
You turn to Alyssa, who has the remote, and make a frantic gesture. “Rewind it.”
“What?” She asks, not looking away from the TV. “It’s a power play, I’m not gonna-“
“Rewind it,” you say again, reaching for the remote. “Lyss, just-“
“What’s wrong?” Nora asks, frowning at you. “You don’t care about hockey.”
“No, I know, I just- I thought I saw someone,” you say, staring at the screen.
“In the crowd?” Nora asks. You don’t answer, so she says your name. “Babe, what is going on?”
Before you can answer, Alyssa throws her hands up in the air and cheers. Goal. The puck is in the back of the net, and the camera zooms in on the player who scored- number 86, the name Hughes emblazoned on his back. One of his teammates comes skating towards him, nearly shoving him into the wall, and-
You gasp when the camera settles on his face. Number 13, Hischier. Nico Hischier, you would assume, unless Dog Park Nico has a doppleganger hanging around Newark. A doppleganger who also works for the Devils. You work for the Devils? Basically. Oh. Nora doesn’t seem to notice anything, but Alyssa turns to you slowly, eyes wide.
“Wait,” she says. “You wanted me to rewind it, to where?”
“It’s fine,” you mutter.
She’s staring at you, while you stare at the TV screen. “You said Dog Park Guy’s name was Nico,” she says, brows furrowed. “What’s his last name?”
You shrug. “Haven’t asked him yet.”
She blinks once, then twice, and when you see Nico on the screen again, you must react, because she leans over and grabs your face. She pulls you to look at her, then at the screen. She grabs the remote and pauses it, and Nico’s face fills up the whole picture. He’s grinning wide.
“What’s happening right now?” Nora asks. “Somebody fill me in.”
Alyssa points at the screen. “That man, right there, is the team captain. Hischier,” she says, pausing for dramatic effect. “Nico Hischier.”
Nora gasps. You shrink down into yourself. You can’t exactly tear your eyes from the screen. It’s definitely him. You’d know that face anywhere. You can see the smile, can picture it in the dog park as he pets your dog.
“Is that Dog Park Guy?” Nora asks. You nod, figuring there’s no point in lying now. “Oh my god, you didn’t mention he was hot.”
Alyssa groans. “I’ve never been more jealous of you in my life.”
“You’re engaged,” Nora reminds her.
“I know,” Alyssa sighs. “But god, he’s dreamy.”
Nora nods. You curl further in on yourself and reach for the remote to hit play. The game starts back up again, and you try to pretend you’re not watching for his number. Nora and Alyssa don’t let it go for the rest of the night. You have a feeling they won’t be letting it go for a while.
When you see him next Wednesday at the dog park, you greet him with, “Hiya, Cap.”
You’ve walked up to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. Bernie and Moose are rolling around in fallen leaves. Nico smiles at you at first, and then, as if he’s realized what you said, he jolts. His brows furrow, and you grin.
“You work for the Devils, huh?” You tease, grinning widely.
His cheeks go red, and he laughs. “You said you didn’t care about hockey.”
“I don’t,” you admit. “But my friend Alyssa does, and she had the game on when I was at her place the other day, and imagine my surprise when I looked up at the screen and saw you on the ice.”
He smiles sheepishly and shakes his head. “Honestly, I didn’t tell you because I thought it’d come off as bragging.”
Moose barks, and you both turn to look, but he’s just playing with Bernie. The two of them have found a stick in the leaves, and they’re pulling back and forth. Bernie has a leaf stuck to her nose, and it makes you smile even more.
“It’s pretty cool, though, isn’t it?” You ask. “Lyss said you’re like. A rockstar. Team captain, first round draft pick-“
“Oh, she went way back,” he teases.
“She’s a Jersey girl,” you say with a shrug. “You’re lucky she’s already engaged or she’d be here, too.”
He laughs louder at that, and his shoulder bumps against yours. Across the grass, your dogs roll around on the ground, happy as can be. It makes you smile wider, makes your heart warm.
…..
Early fall turns into late fall, a change that brings with it colder weather, something you’re already regretting not noticing. Nico frowns when he sees you in the park. He makes his way over as Bernie runs to greet Moose, and he has his brows furrowed. He’s wearing a beanie and a thick hoodie, and you envy him.
“Almost didn’t recognize you,” he says, tugging at the hood of your thin sweatshirt, which you have pulled tightly over your head. “Where’s your coat? And a beanie, maybe?”
You shrug and bury your hands deeper in your pockets- you don’t want him to see you’re not wearing gloves either. “I live on the third floor. It looked warm out, and by the time I got outside, there was no way I was dragging him back upstairs.”
You shrink slightly under the disapproving look he gives you. He sighs heavily, and you smile at him, like that’ll make it better. You want nothing more than to bury your face in his chest, press yourself into his body and soak up some of the heat. You’re sure he’s warm. He just looks like he runs warm.
You don’t stay long at the park, because your hands are freezing and so is your face. Nico bids you farewell with a little wave, and you rush home to your warm apartment.
Two days later, when you show up to the dog park, Nico’s already there. Bernie’s running circles around him, barking happily. She skids to a stop when she spots Moose, and you let him off the leash to join her. Nico waves, a big grin on his face as the two dogs take off together.
“Still no beanie?” He teases, shaking his head.
“I thought the cold day was a fluke,” you mutter grumpily, hands shoved in your pockets. “I worked from home today. I didn’t know it was this cold.”
Nico continues to shake his head. His next move is so unexpected you don’t quite realize what he’s doing until it’s over- he pulls a beanie from his pocket and pulls it onto your head for you, adjusting it carefully with narrowed eyes. You can’t help the laugh that slips past your lips. Then he slips his jacket off his shoulders.
“Nico-“ you protest as he wraps it around you.
“I wore layers, and I’m warm,” he says, holding the jacket around your shoulders and waiting until you slip your arms through the sleeves reluctantly. “Better?”
His jacket is warm and cozy, and you smile and nod. “Much better.”
He grins back, eyes crinkling at the edges. His cheeks are flushed, and it makes your face feel warm, too. You shove your hands in your pockets- his pockets- and turn back to watch the dogs, standing almost shoulder to shoulder with him. The very first flakes of snow of the year begin to fall. Moose and Bernie don’t seem to notice. If Nico notices the way you lean close to him, trying to shelter yourself from the cold, he doesn’t say anything.
…..
The next time you see Nico, he’s stressed. He’s got his beanie off, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. Bernie, as if she senses his distress, is sitting at his feet patiently, even though her leash is off. You let Moose run over. He sniffs at Bernie, then at Nico’s knee, and whines.
“You’re really bringing down the mood,” you call out.
Nico’s head whips up, bottom lip still tugged between his teeth. Something twists in your chest. You don’t like to see him upset like this, you realize. You’re growing far too attached. And yet. Here you are.
You cock your head questioningly. “You okay?”
He sighs. “Sorry. Yeah. Just- my usual dog sitter apparently moved and didn’t tell me until this morning, and I have to be out of town starting tomorrow, and so now I’m trying to find someone to watch her or somewhere to board her and-“
“I can take her,” you blurt out.
His rambling comes to a screeching halt, and he blinks at you. “I don’t want to inconvenience you, or…”
“Don’t be silly,” you say, shaking your head and smiling. “Her and Moose get along great, and I already know half of her routine. And I think she likes me alright, too. It wouldn’t be a hassle.”
Nico puffs out his cheeks, glancing up at the sky. “That would be… are you sure? Because. I mean-“
“Nico,” you say, softly. His gaze flickers back to yours. “I’d love to watch her. How long are you gonna be gone?”
He bites his lip again. “Friday through Sunday.”
You nod. “Easy peasy.”
You should probably be expecting it, just because it seems like something he would do, but you yelp a little when he hauls you against his chest. You hug him back, though, and laugh into his shoulder, and the dogs both bark at your feet. Then Bernie takes off running, as if she knows everything is fine now. Moose follows happily.
“Thank you,” he says, chest rumbling against you, and your breath catches.
“Anytime,” you respond. You mean it.
He drops Bernie off the next morning before you start work for the day. He texts you from the lobby of your apartment building to let you know they’re headed up, which is sweet. You hear Bernie before he knocks on the door, and when you open it, Moose perks up from his dog bed. He’s up within seconds, tail wagging, searching through his pile of toys for one to bring Bernie.
“Look at them,” you coo, watching the two dogs greet each other happily. “We’re gonna have such a fun weekend, aren’t we, Bernie?”
Nico’s smiling, too, when you look up and meet his gaze. He has a dog bed tucked under one arm, and a bag of other supplies in the other. You let the dogs play while he unpacks the stuff on your kitchen counter and tells you what little you don’t know about Bernie’s routine. When she eats, what toys are her favorites, and so on.
“Normally I tell people about the dog park,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “But you already know that.”
You nod eagerly. In the living room, Bernie is sniffing Moose’s dog bed.
“Oh, um. Sometimes for the first bit she won’t want to eat,” he says. “I got her when she was young, and it was during the lockdown, so. She wasn’t used to being away from me. She’s gotten better about it, but… if she goes too long, you can put a little cheese on her food and that usually helps.”
You nod in understanding. “Moose was the same the first time I left him. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her.”
Nico laughs. “I think this is actually the least worried I’ve been about leaving her, ever.”
You set up Bernie’s dog bed in the living room, a little ways away from Moose’s to give them each their space. Nico lays out her favorite toys for her, and a threadbare red hoodie that you’d bet used to be his. He wavers in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, watching as Bernie inspects her stuff. It makes your chest ache a little bit. He seems reluctant to leave.
“D’you have time to sit for a little bit?” You ask. “I have plenty of coffee.”
He turns over his shoulder and grins. “Coffee would be great.”
It should probably feel strange, to have Dog Park Guy sitting at your kitchen table, sipping coffee out of a big mug that looks small in his hands, but it doesn’t. It feels almost natural. Like this was always how this was going to go. He tells you about the away game he’s going to play, about their odds and the other team and how he’s stuck sharing a hotel room with Jack, who he loves but who also talks in his sleep loudly and denies it. You laugh and commiserate & complain to him about your work day, which is full of meetings. By the time the coffee is gone, he doesn’t really seem to want to leave, but he tells you he has to finish packing and get to the rink, and you’ve got a meeting anyways, so. You walk him to the door. He crouches down to pet Bernie one more time, and lets out a big sigh.
“I’ll see you all soon,” he says, smiling. “Have a good weekend.”
Bernie sits down and stares at him. You see his smile waver, so you step forward and pat the top of her head gently, then scratch behind her ears the way you’ve seen Nico do so often.
“Be safe,” you tell him. “We’ll be here waiting.”
Bernie does get a little sad just after he leaves. You feel for her, because you’re strangely sad about him being gone, too. You take most of your work meetings from the couch so she can curl up with her head on your lap. Moose keeps bringing over his favorite toys and dropping them off for her, but she doesn’t take much interest. Nico texts around lunchtime, just before he’s getting on a plane, and asks how it’s going. You send back a picture of her head in your lap, your work meeting in the background.
she seems very interested in Carol’s progress report.
Nico sends back a little laughing emoji, and then She looks cozy. Thank you again!
After work, you leash up both dogs and walk down to the dog park. You want to keep Bernie’s routine as consistent as possible. The two of them do so well together, walking happily, never tugging on the leashes. You snap a pic of them, and send that to Nico, too. He probably won’t see it for a while.
Once you’re at the dog park, you let them off leash to run around. They take off together, barking happily, kicking up piles of dead leaves like the always do. You sit on a bench and fight the urge to text Nico.
It’s just that in the couple of months since you finally spoke to him, you’ve found yourself really looking forward to your dog park chats. Venting about your days or catching up or telling fun stories about your dogs. It’s not the first time he’s been gone, but it’s the first time it’s hit you like this. It’s odd.
You take them both home eventually, calling them over and clipping on the leashes. Back in your apartment, it’s dinnertime- you heat up leftovers for yourself and give the dogs their food. You try not to watch Bernie like a hawk. Nico had said she might not want to eat at first. But when you do sneak a peek, they’re both eating happily. You breathe a sigh of relief- she must feel comfortable enough.
They wander off into the living room before you do, and what you find makes you stop in your tracks. Bernie’s got her dog bed in her mouth, dragging it over next to Moose’s. He sits on his bed happily, wagging his tail at you. Bernie drops the bed and immediately curls up on it, letting out one of her signature big sighs, the ones that Nico always copies. You let out a matching sigh, and she wags her tail.
You snap a picture of the two of them curled up next to each other and send it off to Nico.
He replies just before you roll over to go to sleep. Did she move her bed??
Yup, you answer. Ate all her dinner, too
He takes a while to type his response.
Adorable. Thank you. Again.
…..
You’re not a hockey fan. You know this about yourself. You’ve watched games enough times to know this. But when Saturday rolls around, you turn on the game anyway. Bernie should watch the game, after all. She should watch her dad play.
You cuddle up on the couch with both dogs, who are definitely paying less attention to the screen than you are. They both fall asleep halfway through the first period, and you roll your eyes. You could turn it off, but you find that you don’t want to. It’s suddenly different when you have a reason to be invested. Nico’s on the ice, at least for some of the time.
When he scores, you cheer so loudly you startle both dogs awake. They look around, bewildered. You snap a pic of the two of them with the tv in the background and send it to him.
Bernie & Moose say good job!!
He doesn’t answer until you’re in bed for the night, again. Time differences and media responsibilities and all that. He heart reacts to the photo, and then you watch him type for a couple moments, the little dots bouncing at the bottom of the screen.
How’d you like the game? He asks.
You waffle a bit on what to say back. You wonder if he’s paying enough attention to notice you’re taking a while to answer, or if he’s moved on.
You settle for sending back, it’s a lot more fun to watch when i’m cheering for you
He’s typing back nearly immediately. My good luck charm!
You laugh and lock the phone, setting it down on the nightstand. Bernie and Moose are curled up in bed with you, snoring away. You’re not sure why you feel so happy, but you hope it brings you good dreams.
Nico gets back into town late Sunday afternoon.
There’s a knock on your apartment door. From the couch, you call out “Come in!”
You hear him kick off his shoes in the entryway as he calls out a greeting. He pads towards the living room, and you lean up slightly to see him as he walks in.
“You should really lock your door, you know,” he says. “I could’ve been anyone.”
“But you’re you,” you lilt as he rounds the corner of the couch. “Besides, I’ve got my guard dogs.”
He eyes you skeptically. The dogs are in their same spots as the picture you sent him yesterday. Moose is curled against your chest, while Bernie is laid out over your legs. You’re tucked under a blanket, smiling up at him. Neither of the dogs have moved a muscle, from the knock on the door until now.
“Great guard dogs,” Nico teases.
“Well, they know you. Bernie, look who’s here,” you say. His dog lifts her head, wagging her tail slightly. You shrug. “Guess she likes me more.”
“Can’t blame her,” Nico says, stretching his arms above his head. “You guys look cozy.”
“And you look tired.”
You’re not trying to be mean, but he does. There are purple shadows beneath his eyes, his hair is a mess. The scrubs along his jaw looks to be at least a day old, by your guess.
He snorts. “Thanks. I am.”
You pout. “You could join us, if you want.”
You shift your feet slightly to open up a space for him on the other end of the couch. He eyes the spot with a tired gaze, scrubbing his hand against his jaw. You’re trying to ask casually, to pretend like it won’t make a difference to you one way or the other if he stays or not, but you really do hope he sits down. You’ve missed him- it’s almost embarrassing how much you’ve missed him.
“If I do that I’m definitely gonna pass out,” he warns, voice quieter. “Probably for an extended period of time.”
You nod. “I’d expect nothing less.”
He huffs and drops his car keys on the coffee table. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You laugh when he climbs his way onto the couch. He sits down at the opposite end, his legs side by side with yours. The dogs move to accommodate him, though not without their own grumbling about it. Bernie finally gives in and gets excited to see him, fumbling her way onto his lap. He wraps his arms around his dog and snuggles in, all while you watch, unable to pull your gaze away, heart pounding in your chest. He’s here, in your apartment, on your couch. He looks so soft.
When he falls asleep in no more than ten minutes, it makes you feel even warmer. He trusts you enough to fall asleep here. Bernie is curled against his chest, also falling asleep, reunited at last. You find yourself dozing off, too, brought on by how comfortable it all feels.
You wake up to Bernie pacing back and forth on the living room floor, and Moose standing on the couch, his nose in Nico’s face. You scramble to push the dog away with muffled words and limited success. Nico sniffles and raises his head, scrunching his eyes shut in the face of the sun coming in through your window.
“Sorry,” you whisper, fighting the urge to brush strands of his hair from his eyes. “They're getting antsy.”
He’s adorable when he’s just woken up, eyes barely open, cheeks flushed. He rubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand and pets Moose with the other. You get up and start to gather the dogs’ things while he continues to wake up. By the time you’ve got them both leashed up, he’s sitting up on the couch, brighter eyes than before.
“Best nap of my life,” he says.
You think of how much you wanted to cuddle up on his chest, and you wonder if that would take the winning spot.
Nico puts on his jacket at the door, taps his foot impatiently until you roll your eyes and pull on a jacket of your own, and then the two of you head out, dogs in tow. You keep your hands shoved in your pockets, but when you get to the dog park he hands you a pair of gloves, glaring playfully at you. You put them on, feeling warm and fuzzy, and not just from the fabric around your hands. You let the dogs off the leashes in the fenced in area, and you watch them run off through the light snow.
You bump your elbow against his. “You okay? You’re quiet.”
He nods, leans towards you until you’re shoulder to shoulder. “Yeah. M’good. Just tired.”
You nod in understanding. “C’mon, let’s sit.”
You head over to a nearby bench and sink down. He follows suit. And. It’s cold, so really, that’s probably why he sits so close, his thigh against yours, his side pressed to your side. But then he shifts slightly, and his arm falls to the top of the bench behind you. You try not to hold your breath. Across the park, Bernie and Moose bark happily. You lean your head against Nico’s shoulder, and he sighs happily, resting his head against yours.
He sighs. “Wake me up when they’ve worn themselves out.”
He’s joking- he doesn’t fall asleep, you’d be able to tell. You can feel his breaths, can feel him shift every so often, and he laughs when the dogs tackle each other in the snow. But he stays right there, curled against you, warmer than any jacket or pair of gloves could ever be.
…..
When people say it takes a village, you’re pretty sure it could be said about having dogs, too. You’re amazed at how much easier things are when you have Nico to help out. He’s insistent that he owes you one for watching Bernie, but it really turns into the two of you just trading dog duties.
You get held over at the office on one of the rare days you have to be in person, and he picks up Moose and takes him along to the park with Bernie. Nico gets stuck in traffic on the way home from a game in New York City, and you do the same, leaving a container of leftovers in the fridge for him, too. The dog park meetups and coffee shop hangouts keep happening, much to your benefit. You like spending time with him. Probably a bit more than is healthy, really, but you can’t exactly help it. He’s sweet, and funny, and handsome, too, to top it all off.
When you call him early on a Tuesday evening, you know he’ll pick up, because he’s done with practice for the day. He probably assumes you’re checking what time he’s going to be at the dog park, or letting him know you and Moose won’t be there. He gets nervous, now, if you don’t show up. Texts to make sure you’re alright. It’s endearing.
“Hello,” he says. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break Bernie’s heart and miss out on the dog park tonight.”
“Hi, no- my… my power’s out,” you say, sounding as frantic as you feel. “And like. It’s fine, I’ll survive, but it’s already cold in here, and Moose is giving me evil eyes. But I can’t find any dog friendly hotels, so I was wondering if maybe you could take him for the night-“
Nico laughs on the other end. “Come stay with us. Both of you.”
You pause your digging through the cupboards. “Oh, you don’t have to- that’s okay, Nico-“
“I mean it,” he says, firmly. “I’ve got a spare bedroom. And I just ordered way too much pizza, actually. Come over, bring Moose. Bernie’s bored, anyways.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” you tell him.
“You could never,” he says. “If you’re not here within a half hour, I’m driving over there to pick you up.”
He hangs up before you can protest again, and you turn to Moose with a sigh. Then you start packing for both of you. 20 minutes later, you’re in the elevator up to Nico’s place, trying not to freak out about all of it.
He lets you in before you even have a chance to knock. Maybe it’s just the fact that your place was cold, but when he ushers you inside, it feels like he’s cranked the heat up a few degrees. Bernie comes racing to the entryway, whining excitedly at the sight of Moose, and you grin down at the two dogs. Then you look up at Nico and find him smiling, too.
“I’ll show you to the guest room,” he offers, nodding his head towards the rest of the apartment. “Pizza should be here any minute.”
It all feels oddly domestic, staying with him. You eat dinner together and watch the news- a habit he picked up from a roommate back in his days playing hockey in Canada, he tells you. Moose and Bernie cuddle up in the middle between the two of you, which you sort of hate. You want an excuse to lean into his side.
You get one when you get up to go to the bathroom. You come back, and both dogs have moved into your spot. Nico smiles up at you and shrugs, patting the spot right next to him. You take a seat without protesting, settling into the soft sofa. He moves the blanket he’s been using so it falls over your lap and rests his arm on the back of the couch behind your head. It probably means nothing, but being so close to him feels nice. Comforting.
When you start to doze off, he nudges you awake and towards the guest room. You fight the urge to lean up and kiss his cheek when he says goodnight. Moose follows you into the room, and you shut the door behind you.
You want to kiss Nico. This is becoming a problem.
It’s just. He’s nice. He’s sweet. He’s a good friend, he helps you take care of your dog, he’s letting you stay with him. But he’s an athlete, and they usually date other famous people, not their dog park friends. You’ve got no chance, probably.
You would roll over and scream into the pillow, but you’re afraid he’d hear it anyways.
…..
You’re standing in his kitchen early the next morning when the front door creaks open. You freeze in surprise- you’d assumed from the fan running in Nico’s bedroom, and the quiet of the apartment, that he’d still been asleep. Maybe he’d gone out for a run already, or had gone to take Bernie for a walk. Footsteps echo in the entryway, and you hear someone trip over a pair of shoes. The muttered swear word is definitely not said in Nico’s voice, and panic bites at your chest. You reach for one of the knives on the counter and hold it at your side. Moose, seeming to sense your anxiety, steps in front of your legs. Your phone sits too far away on the counter, and you swallow. You could yell for Nico, but then whoever is in his apartment would hear you, too.
The footsteps fall closer. The man appears in the doorway to the kitchen, and he jumps nearly a foot in the air at the sight of you, hand pressed to his chest. He looks familiar, with his almost shoulder length hair tucked behind his ears- one of Nico’s teammates. There’s a photo of the two of them hanging on the wall in the living room. You drop the knife on the counter discreetly when he isn’t looking.
“You’re not Nico,” he says, leaning on the counter.
“Neither are you,” you state, heart still racing.
He laughs at that and eyes the dog in front of you. “And that’s not Bernie, huh?”
He leans towards the dog, and Moose presses against your legs and growls. You gasp. Apparently, he hasn’t quite gotten the memo that whoever this guy is, he isn’t a threat. You reach for his collar.
“Moose,” you say in a scolding tone.
“Oh,” the man says, drawing out the noise, a look of understanding washing over his face. “Cool wolf. Is he gonna bite me? I have hockey practice later.”
There’s a flurry of noise before you can respond, and Bernie comes loping into the kitchen. She beelines for the guy, and at that, Moose lets his guard down, his tail wagging happily again. You roll your eyes. A great guard dog until his friend likes the guy, then all bets are off. Nico appears in the kitchen, scratching his head, and his eyes go wide when he spots his teammate.
“Jack,” he says, and the man turns to look at him. “What are you doing here?”
The man rubs his face sheepishly. Your dog scurries over to Nico, sniffing at his ankles excitedly. Your gaze bounces back and forth between the two men.
“You’re Jack,” you say, looking at the early morning intruder.
He nods.
You laugh. “I hear you talk in your sleep.”
Nico sighs while Jack tries desperately to deny it.
Ten minutes later, once Nico’s explained the whole situation, they head off on a run. They take Bernie and Moose with them, on Nico’s suggestion, because both dogs could use a bit of exercise, and, in his words, Jack could use a bit of motivation. While they’re out, you take a moment to tidy up your stuff, and you do the dishes from the night before. Nico had insisted you were welcome to any of the food in the house, so you whip up a light breakfast of cut fruit and yogurt, making sure to save some for him.
He returns a while later, both dogs in tow, minus Jack. He gives you a sheepish smile, sweaty locks of hair falling over his forehead. His t-shirt is clinging to his skin, damp with sweat despite the chill outside. You chew on a piece of strawberry and try not to stare at him.
“Sorry about him,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “I forgot he was coming over. He called, but I had my phone turned down and I slept through it.”
You shrug. “Nico, it’s fine, it’s your apartment,” you say. “Though I did have a knife ready, so he’s lucky he didn’t get stabbed.”
Nico laughs and takes a couple steps into the kitchen, leaning on his hands on the counter. “The Devils hockey organization thanks you for your hesitation.”
You laugh and nod. “I have breakfast, if you want some.”
When he squeezes your shoulder as he walks by, you try not to let it show how nice it feels.
“Thanks, schatz,” he says.
You don’t know much German, but you’re pretty sure that doesn’t mean friend.
…..
Nico goes to practice a bit later and then comes back. The power at your place stays out for the rest of the day. You keep checking, trying to make sure. Realistically, now, you could call Alyssa or Nora and ask to stay with them, instead, but when you offer, Nico looks offended at the suggestion.
He’s laying on the floor with Bernie and Moose both sprawled over him. “I mean. If you want to go, you can, obviously.”
“I just don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you tell him.
He shakes his head and lets it drop back to the floor. Moose shoves his nose under Nico’s chin. “You’re not.”
That’s pretty much the end of the discussion. The two of you take the dogs out to a nearby cafe for a late lunch, a place Nico tells you is dog friendly. He makes sure you’re both bundled up adequately for the chilly walk there and back. In the afternoon, you get some work done on your laptop, Bernie’s head on your lap, while Nico scrolls aimlessly on his phone and plays tug of war with Moose. The routine feels scarily easy to settle into. You make dinner together, pasta and chicken and broccoli. You move around one another with ease, like moons in each other’s orbits. The dogs wait patiently in the living room while you cook. Nico gives them pieces of chicken for their good behavior, and then you dish out dog food while he refills their water bowls. It’s nice. It’s so nice. You’re trying desperately not to get attached to this, to him.
You wake up the next morning to Moose and Bernie in your bed, a text from Nico saying he took them on their morning walk before he left for morning skate, and an alert from your apartment complex that the power is back on. You sigh, kiss the top of Bernie’s head, and roll back over in bed.
He’s gone for most of the day, today, between practices and media requirements and meetings with the team that he’d complained about to you the night before. You could pack up and leave before he gets back, but then you’d be leaving Bernie alone, and it feels weird to not say goodbye to Nico after he let you stay here. So you spend the day how you were planning to, and gather up your things bit by bit.
Nico comes home in the afternoon when you’re halfway packed, and he stands in the doorway of the guest room, seemingly hesitant. He’s frowning. Your heart lurches.
“My power’s back on,” you say quietly.
“Oh,” he responds. “Right. That’s, uh, that’s good.”
You nod. “Just realized I’ll probably have to clean out my fridge, and get new groceries, but yeah. I’ll be out of your hair.”
He frowns, nose wrinkling. “You weren’t in my hair.”
You blink at him. “I just meant… you can have your own space back. You must be sick of us by now.”
Nico wavers, shifting back and forth on his feet. You’re holding one of your t-shirts, and you pull it close to your chest. There’s something hanging in the air.
“I don’t think I’d ever get sick of you,” he says. A spark runs down your spine. “I liked having you here.”
You blink, unsure what to do with yourself suddenly. “I, uh, liked being here. You’re a great host, you know.”
He shrugs, then nods. He opens his mouth, closes it, repeats the motion. Then he releases his grip on the doorframe and takes a couple steps into the room. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and you try to keep your breathing steady as he walks towards you.
“You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” He asks, looking hopeful.
You blink up at him, the corner of your lips tugging upwards. “Guess it depends on what we’re having.”
You’re trying to be brave about this. Trying to go with the flow, be casual. Maybe he’s just got a meal planned for two, maybe he needs your help to make it. You don’t want to read into it, even as he comes so close that you could reach out and touch him, that you can smell his shampoo and cologne. One of the dogs barks in the living room. You both ignore it, unable to tear your eyes away from each other. The air feels electric.
His hand comes up to touch your cheek, fingertips featherlight. You swallow. Your heart is pounding in your chest. He’s grinning, like he knows it. So sure of whatever he’s about to say.
“I thought maybe we could go out,” he says, casually. “Just me and you, somewhere nice. Let the dogs hang out here and keep each other company.”
You blink, take a breath, nod. “Okay. I can stay for dinner.”
“Cool,” he says, trying to be nonchalant about it. His wide grin gives him away. “Then it’s a date.”
Your breath catches in your chest, but you nod. “It’s a date.”
When he leans down and kisses your cheek, you swear the world stops spinning. When he pulls away it spins faster than it ever has before. You watch him walk away, dumbfounded, heart racing, skin burning.
All that worrying about it all, and it was that easy?
…..
At dinner, you both come to terms with the fact that you can’t really call this your first date. The two of you are too comfortable already, too at ease with each other. Nico claims the real first date was the coffee shop, months ago. You claim it was the day he came to pick up Bernie and took a nap on your couch.
“So I was asleep for half of our first date?” He says, nose wrinkled. “No thank you.”
“Well if it was the coffee shop, then I didn’t get your number for weeks after,” you retort. “So that would be weird.”
Eventually the two of you decide to agree to disagree. Maybe it happened somewhere in the middle without you even realizing. But now it feels official and real, over seafood and wine and warm bread. Nico’s face is lit by the candles on the table, and he holds your hand half the night.
Hours later, you stumble out of the restaurant, wine tipsy and giggling as you lean against his arm. He’s laughing, too, until he’s not, until he’s holding you by your hips on an empty sidewalk, waiting for a cab to roll by. You stare up at him, the dark night sky and city lights behind his head.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, quietly.
“Thought you’d never ask,” you reply.
Nico kisses exactly the way you’d imagined- soft and sweet, at first, in a way that makes you feel everything. And then his tongue slips past your lips and his grip on your hips tightens and you wrap your arms around his neck and hold on for dear life. It’s a bit all consuming, threatens to leave you breathless, sends shocks across your skin.
He gets you into a cab and gives his address, and then he leans against you, his lips against your temple, his hand intertwined with yours. He speaks quietly against your skin.
“I’ll follow your lead here,” he says, quietly. “If you wanna take Moose and head home, I completely understand.”
You smile and lean into his touch. “Okay,” you say, deciding to leave him hanging. He laughs against your skin like he knows what you’re doing.
When the car pulls up in front of Nico’s apartment building, you step outside while he pays the fare. He grabs your hand again to lead you inside, through the lobby, and towards the elevator. He’s watching your every move, you can feel it- he’s trying to read you. You think he probably sees right through your little game, but that’s okay.
When the elevator doors slide closed, you turn to him, threading your hand through his hair at the nape of his neck.
“You should ask me to stay over,” you whisper, leaning up to brush your lips against his ear.
He groans softly, his hand falling to rest on your hip. “Yeah?”
You nod.
He swallows. “You want to stay over?” He asks, voice breathy. His stubble scrapes against your cheek as he brushes a kiss there.
You lean in to kiss him again. You think that’s answer enough.
The two of you tumble into his apartment a few minutes later, hands wrapped tightly in each other’s. You muffle your giggles with your other hand, and Nico does the same with his own. The dogs are curled up on their dog beds in the living room, snoring away. You take off your shoes carefully, and the two of you tiptoe through the apartment. If you wake Moose, he’ll be needy, begging for attention. Bernie will be the same with Nico.
You make it to the bedroom, and within seconds, Nico’s on you, pressed up against the closed bedroom door. He latches his lips onto your neck, and you sigh happily. His hands are already roaming everywhere, and your whole body is on fire.
“You’re sure about this?” He asks, between kisses, and you melt.
“Positive,” you say, already gasping for air. “Please, Nico.”
He groans into your skin, and you both start to fall apart.
Later, you lay in bed, your cheek against his bare chest. His hand sweeps up and down your back smoothly. You can hear his heart beating, feel the soft rise and fall of his breaths. There’s a lot of things you want to say, but they all feel far too intimate for a first time on a maybe third date, so you keep your mouth shut. You settle for drawing shapes on his skin until he shivers and laughs.
Seconds later, there’s a dog scratching at the door. Moose whines. Then, so does Bernie. You groan into Nico’s chest.
“They’re so needy,” you grumble.
“Sounds like someone else I know,” he responds.
He pulls away before you can retaliate, reaching for his t-shirt and tossing it to you. You pull it on as he tugs on a pair of shorts. Then he opens the door. Two fur covered, heat seeking missiles come shooting onto the bed, barreling into you, making themselves comfortable atop the covers. Nico crawls back into bed before he loses his spot, nudging Bernie out of the way so he can pull you back into his arms.
Moose rests his head against your side. You rub behind his ears as Nico does the same with Bernie. Something about this moment just feels right. The way the four of you all curl up together, around each other, held tight and warm and safe.
Nico kisses your forehead. “Goodnight.”
You kiss his shoulder. “G’night, Nico.”
In the dark, Bernie whines.
“And goodnight to you too, Berns,” you laugh, reaching over to pat her head.
…..
Nico stops in the parking lot, his arm around the back of your seat. You continue staring out the windshield. In the backseat, Bernie and Moose wag their tails happily. You hope he can’t see where you’re holding onto the seat tightly with your right hand.
“Hey,” he says. His hand brushes against your shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“What if they all hate me?” You ask.
Nico scoffs. “Then they’re all stupid.”
“Nico…”
“Baby,” he murmurs, leaning over, pressing his lips to your temple. “You met Jack, scared the shit out of him, and he still asks about you all the time. And you’ll have the dogs. That’ll win them over immediately.”
You sigh and wipe your sweaty hands on your pants. “You’re their captain. What if I don’t live up to the… I don’t know, Nico-“
He cups your face in his hand and turns your head towards his. There’s a soft, kind smile on his face. You bite your lip.
“You don’t need to live up to anything,” he says, firmly. “I want you there, that’s enough. And if you want to leave, you just tell me. We’ve got the dogs as an excuse.”
You nod. He pinches your cheek lightly, and you laugh. When he climbs out of the car, you follow suit. Moose and Bernie are itching to get out of the backseat- you each unbuckle one dog and get them ready to go inside.
In the stadium, he stops and helps you get the dogs ready- winter coats for them to wear, little shoes to protect their feet that you’ve been getting them used to for months now. Moose still glares at you a bit when you first put them on, but he gets over it quickly.
Nico laces up his own skates and helps you, too, and then it’s out onto the rink, under the lights, staring up at the big empty stadium. The dogs stay close at first, getting used to the slippery surface.
Everyone is here- his teammates, their families, their friends. When he’d invited you, you’d nearly broken down into tears- you know how much it means to him, how much he loves this team and this sport. You’re honored he wants to share it with you. You were the one who suggested bringing the dogs, too. Now, out on the ice, you’re thrilled it all ended up like this.
“Cool wolf,” Jack says, as he skates by. “Hey, Luke- you know what his name is?”
Luke shakes his head.
“Moose,” Jack says, and Luke sighs. “Which one of you is the cuter one, huh?”
“Definitely the dog,” Nico says, squeezing your hand.
“You all suck,” Luke says. He turns to you and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Not you. You seem great.”
Nico hooks his elbow in yours and nudges you gently. “Wanna do a lap?”
You smile and nod, and he starts to pull you around on the ice. The dogs follow happily, having found their footing. Across the ice, some of the kids point at them excitedly. You think back to the dog park, so long ago, now, and the lady and her dog Bessie. If she’d never gotten angry with you, would you and Nico have ever spoken? Or would you have just stared at each other from across the park forever? You’re not sure you want to know. You’re just happy it ended up the way it did.
“I love you,” you tell him, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
He blushes and grins, dimple popping up on his face. “I love you too, schatz.”
He kisses you on the lips, then, a quick peck that still somehow makes your heart skip a beat. At your feet, Moose whines, and Bernie follows suit. You and Nico sigh.
“And we love you two, too,” you say, shaking your head at the dogs.
“So needy,” Nico says.
“Sounds like someone else I know,” you tease, elbowing him.
He grins impossibly wider. You feel warm enough to melt the ice beneath your feet. He tends to have that affect on you, and you don’t think it’ll ever grow old.
thanks for reading!!
#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier x you#nico hischier fanfic#Nico hischier fic#Nico hischier fluff#Nico hischier oneshot#Nico hischier fanfiction#Nico hischier imagine#nhl fic#nhl fanfic#nhl oneshot#nhl fluff
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Smoke And A Light
Summary: When you're forced to remain a resident of the Slendermansion, hearing tales of the outside world is riveting. So, when Clockwork brings back some souvenirs, you couldn't possibly pass them up.
Characters: Clockwork x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Jealousy, weed, smoking, sex while high, vaginal, oral, vaginal fingering, sex with toys, dildos, strap-on sex, teasing, new experiences
Words: 8.2k
“Was it really that fun?” You chirped.
Clockwork leaned against the counter of the kitchen island, boots kicking the side of the stool she perched on as she took another drink from her coffee mug. She wasn’t a resident of the mansion; she wasn’t a resident of any mansion as far as you knew. The dirty blonde called herself a ‘drifter’, always bouncing between towns and interstates with her Jeep, but never rooted in one place for too long. However, most of her closest acquaintances resided at the Slendermansion, so it just so happened to be where she spent most of her downtime.
“It was odd… but good?” She smiled awkwardly, tapping her knuckles against the ceramic mug nicely decorated with doodles Sally had made. She tugged at the sleeve of her white tank top, the fabric dirty and frail, but notably bringing out the brightness of her pupil. You were getting better about keeping contact with her right eye, subconsciously finding it rude to stare at the clockface nestled into her left socket.
Somehow, your conversation had dipped on Clockwork’s latest excursion to the south, farther into the Appalachian than you were familiar with. She talked about the nightlife music festivals in Tennessee and Alabama, the older folk songs they paired with raving strobe lights, and how it just worked. You could barely imagine it, but then again, you hadn’t really been in with society in quite some time.
As long as you had been living in the mansion, which had been quite some time now, Clockwork was always on the move. Much like Sally, you had been brought here very young and grown up around this atmosphere and losing track of how the rest of the world was going. You were in charge of minuscule tasks, wasting away behind these walls with random assignments Slender could throw at you. While you were forced to stay and help with missions assigned to the proxies, she got to roam wherever she wanted. To say you were jealous was an understatement. If there was a chance you were going to get to hear firsthand about the rest of the world, you were going to take it… no matter how much it tired her out.
“So, you just smoked some weird plant and everything started spinning? Was it scary?” You leaned forward, crowding Clockwork’s space and tilting your head, curious as ever. She just laughed, somehow never becoming annoyed with just how excitable you could get, always keeping that cool demeanor you admired so much. She leaned in, nudging her knuckles against your arm and rubbing the skin softly.
“Well, it was a little more than that, but, sure. I brought some back with me. Stuff’s pretty expensive though…” She huffed, gulping the rest of her coffee down and sliding the mug away. You followed as she stood from the counter, her one good eye trailing to look outside. You followed her gaze, groaning when you caught Toby and Jeff sitting on the front porch steps and chatting away. You knew of Clockwork’s history with the brunette, their on-again off-again relationship becoming a constant wall in your quality time with the girl before she inevitably left for the road once more.
You went to interject, to try and come up with another topic or question to stop her from going to talk to him, but you already heard your name being called.
“[Y/N]! Come help with this, will ya?” Ben mosied from the hallway, looping into the mansion’s kitchen and catching you mid-interjection. He was holding some box of files and reports, surely incident records from the proxies you would need to take care of. You groaned as she shuffled to your side.
Clockwork was reaching for her Carhartt jacket, her hands reaching to brush her long hair out onto her shoulders while she turned back to you. The look of disappointment was evident, but she smiled sweetly anyway, inviting as ever. You didn’t want her to leave.
“Listen, I’m gonna chat with the guys for a little bit. Come find me later tonight. I’ll show you what we were talking about.” With that, she turned to the screen door and tugged it open, disappearing onto the porch and out of your eyesight as Ben nudged your attention back.
“What’s that about?” He smirked, static ringing with his words as you huffed, snagging the box from his arms and trailing down the hallway. “Nothing. Just help me with this.”
Ben floated down the hallway behind you, humming absentmindedly as you took one final glance back towards the window. Toby was already shoulder-to-shoulder with Clockwork, her laughs ringing into the house as you felt your time chipping away.
-
After a headachingly long splay of all the missing person’s reports and incident retellings, you finally sorted everything out and filed completely. Of course, Ben didn’t help a bit, more focused on his ability to play his Gameboy floating upside down than anything.
But you were finished. It was well into the evening now, the sun setting along the ridge of trees and rippling on the lake water nearby. You pressed through the screen door, no one was left on the front porch, but a very ominous thumping sound from somewhere in the distance. Your breath fogged in front of you, the chill of late Autumn slowly creeping on the mansion. You followed, trailing away from the porch and along to the side where the carport sat.
“Guys?” You called out, the thumping growing louder the further you trailed into the opening beside the mansion, searching for the source. EJ’s truck and Hoodie’s car parked in the ankle-tall grass, your steps cautious as you spotted Clockwork’s Jeep several feet away, the thumping becoming mostly clear. The vehicle was nestled between a lot of trees, brown and orange leaves blowing gently overhead. You noticed the headlights were on, and figures moving around behind the tinted glass. They were in there.
Jogging over to the vehicle, you recognized the thumping as the bass of songs cranked way too loud, the music blasting from the speakers inside. You rounded to the door behind the driver’s, knocking on the glass and waiting expectantly.
The door popped open, the music ringing clear as some Foo Fighters song. You also noted the way smoke faintly poured from the opening, blowing into your face as Clockwork popped her head out. “[Y/N]!” She smiled, her tone just a little more chipper than you were used to. She reached a hand out, clasping with yours and tugging you into the back seat of her Jeep along with the rest of the unseeming group.
You crammed your way in, ducking into the back seat as you realized she had converted the interior of the vehicle for her travels. The backseats were laid down, a blowup mattress inflated into the truck as her bed, blankets and pillows littered around. Fairy lights and tealight candles strung from the ceiling, offering a nice ambiance as smoke clouded inside. It was cozy for one person, but with Toby and Jeff also laid out, it was a little cramped.
“Where’ve you been, angel?” You halted at the new nickname, smiling as you fully climbed inside. Clockwork shut the back door, leaning back into the pillows she had propped behind her and patting the space across from herself. You obliged, nestling into the opposite corner and nodding to the boys who were mid-conversation themselves. You noted their odd expressions, the laziness in their eyes, and the calmness that neither one of them usually sported. It was odd to see Jeff without a scowl on his face.
“Sorry. Slender had me working on some cover-story stuff… boring.” You chuckled awkwardly, trying to find a comfortable sitting position in the closeness of everyone. It was then you noted the odd smell too, the sour stoutness of the smoke wafting in the Jeep, a scent you couldn't quite recognize. Clockwork smiled, “Sure sounds boring. It’ll be good for you to chill with us.” You nodded eagerly, the headache you had slowly dissipated with every inhale of the mysterious smoke. You noticed the way her good eye tinted red, bloodshot veins popping around the rim of her eye and making you cringe. Both Toby's and Jeff’s eyes were bloodshot too…
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen [Y/N] chill a day in her life…” Jeff smiled lazily, elbowing Toby who answered with a scratchy giggle. Clockwork kicked at them, rolling her eyes playfully as she tugged you closer to her side. “Well, she’s going to today. Ain’t that right?” You nodded as she laughed, leaning to grab something from the passenger seat.
Her backpack was full of clutter, her hand rummaging around until she grasped what she was looking for. She tugged out a glass mason jar, little rolled-up objects sliding around as she held it up, the boys hollering their excitement. You were confused, trying to see what they were as Clockwork unscrewed the top and shuffled one out, presenting it before you.
“Uhm… what is it…” You laughed shyly, Jeff leaning forward to snag it from your palms.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never smoked a blunt before…” He teased, Toby leaning forward to tug a lighter from his jacket pocket and offer it to the killer, the brunette practically sitting in his lap as he watched the flame smolder against the bud. You realized where the stout smell was coming from as smoke wafted from the blunt, the story Clockwork was telling you earlier in the day coming together. So this is what she smoked… That also meant this was very well their second or third blunt, no telling how high they all were or wanted to be.
Toby slipped the smoldering bud from Jeff’s fingers the minute to flipped the lighter closed, popping the end between his lips and taking a deep inhale. Jeff leaned close, pressing his cheek against the boy’s and tugging it into his own when Toby let go, inhaling the same. You studied them, taking note of how they went about smoking the plant to make sure you didn’t embarrass yourself.
You glanced to Clockwork, her own lighter sparking up as she popped a cigarette into her mouth, lighting the end. You nudged her, a questioning look on your face.
“Are you not going to?” You hesitated as she inhaled, puffing the smoke past her lips and in the boy’s direction with a smile. She shook her head, holding the cigarette between her fingers as smoke surrounded the two of you, encasing everyone in the vehicle as the music thumped from the speakers.
“Nah, I already got my fill. Gonna let these idiots enjoy it. It’s not often they get to smoke without Slender on their asses.” You glanced back to the boys carelessly lounging against each other as they passed the blunt back and forth, minds swirled with the sourness of the weed. You smiled, glancing back to Clockwork dishing out another and handing it to you, lighter flipped in the other hand. “Go ahead, try it.”
You nervously took the bud, fidgeting it between your fingers as she guided the end to your lips. You held the blunt there, Clockwork flipping her lighter on and pressing the flame to the end, the roll smoldering before you. It was hard not to note the way she stared at you as she helped you, two fingers slipped under your chin as you let yourself stare back. When she was satisfied, she flipped the lighter closed, tugging back into her comfortable position as smoke began to swirl around you.
“Now, inhale. Let it sit in your lungs for a second, then blow it back out.” Her voice was scratchy but soothing, the roughness of her usual demeanor nowhere to be found as you followed her instructions the best you could. You tried to remember how you watched the boys do it, breathing deep as the tip of the blunt lit up, soaking down into your lungs. You held it there, stalling your breath as it burned, throat tightening as you quickly exhaled back again.
Smoke blew from your lips, and a fit of coughs soon followed as Clockwork patted your back. You sucked fresh air in, lungs burning from the weed as Jeff and Toby laughed obnoxiously across from you.
“Hey, that wasn’t bad! Not such a big inhale next time, okay?” Clockwork rubbed your shoulders, offering you a water bottle from the front seat of her Jeep as you finally caught your breath, sinking back into the pillows behind you. You let yourself take one more small hit, passing the blunt to an eager Toby who had no problem with finishing the rest. There was no telling what was enjoyable about that, or why the three of them were so excited, but you ruled that was enough for you.
Conversation bubbled, Clockwork quickly occupied Jeff and Toby’s muddled brains with her latest retellings of the concerts and festivals she had attended. You listened closely, wrapping a blanket around your crossed legs and smiling when the boys nudged their way beside you to get underneath as well, legs wrapping together as sour smoke and loud music filled your senses.
But eventually, it became muddled. Like the music was becoming distant or muffled, farther away than you remembered it being.
Before you could dwell on it, sensations rose, odd feelings and reactions you found intriguing. Where the boy’s legs tangled with yours, they felt tingly, like you could feel every part of their skin that touched yours. The sensation was overwhelming, but not nearly as much as trying to focus on every word that poured from Clockwork’s mouth. Suddenly, she was speaking too fast, words slurring as you tried to blink the dizziness away. What in the world was happening..?
But it just felt so warm, so comfortable lying against Toby and Jeff, your arms wrapping around their shoulders as Clockwork began to laugh and say something about it finally hitting you. You just laughed too, you weren’t sure why, but just seeing her smile was enough to make you as well. The boys laughed too, a swirl of dizziness and warmth pooling across your face as you drank in the atmosphere. Was this what being high was like?
Clockwork began talking again, flicking the last of her cigarette into her ashtray and reaching for a water bottle, starting a new story again. You didn’t know what she was saying, but suddenly you really wanted to lay with her, to be beside her. You didn’t even realize your body was moving until she was wrapping her arms around you.
“Hi, angel.” She smiled, your head lying in her lap as she brushed the hair from your face. The sensation felt so tingly, your eyes fluttering closed as you listened to the slur of her words and the brush of her fingers against your skin. Everything just seemed so heightened, felt so good… You never wanted to leave this moment. Especially not with the girl you idolized so much right here with you.
She was just so cool. You found yourself in awe of just how strong and steady she seemed to always be, always knowing exactly what she wanted out of life. You couldn’t get enough. You craved to be like that.
“Y’all guh- gonna kiss, or wh- what…” Toby chuckled, elbowing Jeff who laughed just a little too loud. Clockwork visibly tensed above you, halting her fingers across your skin and eyeing the boy. “Toby.” Her voice was still playful, but the hint of seriousness didn’t go unnoticed. You watched her face, mind now racing with the idea and playing clear pictures in your mind. Do I want to kiss her..?
The thought had never passed you before, but then again, you had never been offered it before. To you, Clockwork was an idol, an ideal version of who you wished to be. You had never contemplated anything more… until now.
“Are we?” You slurred the words out before you could really stop them, leaning up onto your elbows as you watched her expression twist to confusion. Jeff and Toby’s laughter fell silent, watching intently as you held eye contact, trying to read whatever she was thinking. Music thumped, the tension of the silence making your eyes nervously flicker back and forth.
“Do you want to...?” Clockwork shrugged, shifting her sitting position to face you, her cheeks notability growing a shade darker than before. You paused, contemplating. There was no tinge of nervousness behind you, the false courage brought in by your high suprinsing even yourself as you nodded. Even when nervous, she still just looked so cool.
The moments in between were quick, silent tension slowly fading as you both leaned forward. Was Clockwork even high? Were you even still high? You couldn’t think further as you felt her hands slide to rest against the sides of your face, your arms wrapping around her back as she pressed her lips against yours. You both gasped into the kiss, slowly tightening your grip against each other as the rest of the atmosphere faded. Your consciousness only registered this kiss, your eager but curious lips melting into hers as your mind flooded, dizziness and drowsy exhaustion tugging at your movements. This was really happening…
Clockwork tugged back before you wanted to be done, your head leaning to chase her kiss as you blinked your eyes open. You were both panting, her hands still cupped around your cheeks as she stared down at you, mentally registering what had just happened.
“That was hot.” Toby hummed, Jeff nodding along as they gripped the blanket tighter.
Clockwork groaned, letting off of you as she tugged the blanket and pillows from their arms, reaching to pop the back door of the Jeep open.
“Alright boys, shows over. Go to bed.” The night air flooded the vehicle, smoke swooping out into the wind as the two exasperatingly climbed out, mumbling their annoyance of wanting to see more. You sat back, combing over what had just happened and reaching for the water bottle you were handed earlier, nervously taking sips.
Clockwork shut the door, sighing as she leaned back into the pillows and swiped her hands over her face, groaning. You wanted to apologize, the haziness of the weed finally seeping its last wave over you as the tension bubbled, silence the only thing between you.
“I’m sorry…” You grit, picking at your fingers as Clockwork looks up at you, smiling.
“For?” She was beginning to lean forward again, the nervousness you should've been feeling earlier finally rousing in your gut. At least, that’s what you thought it was. You weren’t expecting the tears to pool in your eyes and drip down your cheeks. And you definitely weren’t expecting the words to bubble out so suddenly.
“I’m sorry for kissing you in front of Toby…” You hiccuped, swiping the tears from your eyes as more pooled, Clockwork immediately pressing towards you. “I know you two are… are a thing… I’m sorry…” Evidently, your high had not worn off.
“Angel…” Clockwork shushed you, reaching to wipe the tears from your eyes and brush the stray hairs from your face. She cupped your cheeks to look at her, concern lacing her expression as you tried to stop your whining. “What are you talking about..?” She laughed awkwardly.
You leaned into her touch, trying to gauge her tone as you took deep breaths. “Like, aren’t you and Toby dating… I’m sorry…” The tears welled again, but rough fingers were quick to swipe them away. “[Y/N], Toby and I haven’t been together in a long time.”
You watched her face for any sign of a joke, shaky breaths steadying out when you couldn’t find any. She just smiled that same sympathetic smile she always gave you, your cheeks heating up again. You reached to cup her hands on your cheeks, making sure she wouldn’t pull away. “Really?”
“Really.”
You both sat in the silence, your head spinning from the exhaustion of your crying, but Clockwork was sure to let you lean on her. She tugged you close, leaning back into the pillows and scooping your head to lay next to hers. She reached back to grip the dial of the radio and turn the music down, a soft thump ringing as the fairy lights twinkled overhead. You just now noticed how mesmerizing they were, only breaking your trance when you felt the same rough fingers tracing your cheekbones.
You glanced beside you, Clockwork’s face suddenly a lot closer than you remembered it being. “Why’re you so worried about me and Toby?” She teased, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
You had always known Clockwork was a strong girl. Not just mentally, but physically. Being this close, you could see every indent of muscle on her shoulders and arms, her bicep tensing as she leaned closer to you. It was mesmerizing the way you suddenly realized her stature swallowed you whole. Not to mention the way her abs teased from the way her tank top rode up her abdomen.
“[Y/N]…” Clockwork cooed. Shit, you were staring. You shook your head, forcing your eyes to meet with hers again.
“I wasn’t worried… I’m not- Just-”
“Worried enough to cry… but kiss me anyway?”
She was throwing you for a loop now, probing your hazy brain for an answer you didn’t know she wanted. You groaned, clasping your hands over your face and trying to shrivel away. “I don’t know…”
“Well, maybe we need to find out, then.” You peeked from behind your fingers, Clockwork’s smug expression filling your vision as she tugged your hands down, wrapping her fingers with your own. You were tense, unsure how to move or what to say, but trying your best not to make a further fool of yourself.
Jealousy, idolization, a crush…? You wanted to contemplate it, you wanted to talk it over so there wasn’t any room for awkwardness. You waited desperately for the days she would come and visit, buying your time with every second she stayed until inevitably left you behind again. It wasn’t her fault, she was living her life.
But what if you wanted that life too…?
What if…
Soon your vision was invaded by her, rough hands cupping the sides of your cheeks to draw you closer as your lips pressed firm. You gasped into the kiss, tilting your head to sink further into her grasp as you wrapped your arms behind her back. Nails dug into the fabric of her tank top, stretching the cloth and pushing her closer to you, lips swiping across the other.
Clockwork was groaning, the remaining dizziness of the weed swirling overhead and seeping into every touch she gave you. It was intoxicating. You felt like you couldn’t get close enough, like no matter how close you pulled her she was still too far away. You let your tongue slip past her lips, false courage giving you a boost.
The dirty blonde obliged, letting her tongue swirl with yours as she trailed her hands down to your sides. She hooked her fingers into the belt loops of your jeans, tugging you up off of your knees.
“C’mere…” She grumbled against your kisses, pulling you to swing your leg over her thighs and straddle her hips. You sunk back into her, wrapping your arms around her neck and gliding your tongue along the warmth of her mouth. You couldn’t get enough, drinking in her smell and her taste, suffocating in it. It was almost better than getting high. Wait-
You pushed back off of her shoulders, disconnecting your mouths and leaving you both itching for more.
“Wait. This is wrong. We’re both high, and you’re definitely going to regret this and I-” The words jumbled out quickly, Clockwork knotting her brow as she clamped a palm over your puffy lips to silence your panic.
“[Y/N], I’m not high. Maybe a little sleepy, but definitely not high.”
You still kept her back, elbows braced as you forced yourself not to stare at her lips. “So… you want to kiss me? You’re not just doing it 'cause you’re high?” Clockwork was laughing again, letting her fingers rub against your hips as you waited patiently for her answer, unsure why she was finding it so funny.
“I told you, I’m not high. Besides, why do you think I keep coming to see you if I don’t like you enough to kiss you?” Your thoughts were mush, pieces not connecting the way they should’ve been. Maybe you weren’t as sober as you thought… but at least she was there to take care of you.
You did catch the way she smiled though, brushing the hair off of your face and rubbing at your sides. And the way she said she liked you.
“Do you… like-like me? Or just friend-like me…?”
“Just kiss me, [Y/N].”
Your back was being pushed into the blow-up mattress as Clockwork’s lips pressed against yours again. You melted again, brain entering that fuzzy state where the only thing you could register was how good you felt. She towered over you, your eyes peeking open to catch glances of the way her shoulder muscles strained above you, or the way her biceps flexed when she scooped your leg to wrap around her waist. You clung on, surprised at the sensation when she pressed her hips down, friction rutting against the crotch of your jeans.
“Ah- Jeez-” You whined when her lips dipped further along your jaw, wet kisses planted along your neck and collarbones. She was a lot more eager than before, hunger sweeping over you both as you let your hands tangle into her shaggy hair. Every press of her lips or grip of her hands was doubled in sensation, tingles and chills sweeping through your body and writhing for more. “Feels good…”
Clockwork nibbled at your shoulders, tugging the collar of your shirt aside to suck on the bare skin. She smiled at your whines, grinding her hips lower to bump the stretch of your jeans against your clit. The sensation made your back shoot off the mattress, fingers digging into her shoulders to stabilize yourself.
“Again- Do that again-” You whined out, wrapping your legs around her waist to roll your hips, searching for that same sensation. Clockwork obliged, her hands planted on either side of your head as she raised up to carefully angle her hips against yours.
She rolled them down, the crotch of her jeans roughly gliding on yours and bumping your clothed clits together. You moaned, hands wrapping around her shoulders as you watched, trying your best to meet her every movement and catch that feeling. You whined when she stopped, pouting your lip before you felt warm hands slinking up into your shirt.
“Been waiting on you to fess up for a long time now, angel. It was pretty hard trying to act like I couldn’t tell you were obsessed with me.” She spoke between kisses on your cheek, tugging your back off the mattress to slide your shirt over your head and to the side. “Hard to not miss you, too.” You leaned into her touches, chasing the warmth as her words muddled your thoughts. You couldn’t get enough of looking at her, the fairy lights overhead blinding you slightly, but Clockwork’s frame covering you soothingly.
“Keep doin’ that thing-” You smiled, pushing your hips up in a desperate attempt to create that wonderful sensation again, your clit already throbbing. The dirty blonde grinned above you, leaning back onto her knees to slide her tank top off, her sports bra contorting against her strong build in the most mouth-watering way. “Anything for you, angel.”
Your jeans were being unbuttoned as you reached for her again, tugging her close to steal quick kisses as she worked on tugging your pants down your thighs. Your heart was beating so fast, excitement pumping through to your fingertips when she finally tugged the fabric off of your ankles. Despite the cramped backseat of the Jeep, you felt so free, so comfortable to hold and touch the girl you idolized so dearly. And she was touching you, and you couldn’t get enough.
Clockwork tugged her own jeans off of her legs, sliding the stray clothes to the side as she readjusted her boxer briefs. Jesus, even the underwear she wore was cool. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of her belly button piercing, the small silver ball complimenting her toned stomach wonderfully. She tugged your hips over hers, kneeling between your spread legs as she slid her hands across your excited body. Every touch was electrifying, goosebumps rising wherever her fingernails scraped your skin.
You waited expectantly, trying your best not to seem restless as Clockwork leaned back to grab the glass mason jar from the front seat. You watched cautiously as she fished another blunt out, eyeing you carefully while she popped the roll between her lips and reached for her lighter in the back pocket of her jeans. Once again the sour smell of weed filled your senses, mind already swaying as Clockwork inhaled deeply before leaning back down over you.
Grabbing your jaw, she pressed your lips open with her thumb and steadied herself back into a kiss. You sighed as she pressed firm against you, taking a long exhale into your kiss and passing the smoke into your lungs. You tried your best to inhale, breathing deeply as the sour taste wafted through your windpipe. There was no helping when you began to cough, though.
“Easy… deep breathes…” She cooed, leaning back to take another hit off of the blunt before flicking ashes into the nearby ashtray. Clockwork handled you so carefully, making sure you didn’t get choked as you exhaled, blowing the smoke up into the air. “Atta’ girl…” She smiled, passing the bud between your fingertips as she began to slink down your abdomen.
“I thought you weren’t getting high-” You awkwardly shifted with her, spreading your legs to fit around her shoulders.
“Changed my mind. You’re gonna wanna feel this too…” She pushed your hand back to your mouth, beckoning you to take another hit of the smoldering plant. You did, not ignoring the way Clockwork’s cheeks darkened as you blew the smoke in her direction, smiling coyly. “Feel what?”
The familiar haziness fogging your brain was coming back, senses heightening slowly as Clockwork slipped your panties down your thighs and with the rest of the discarded clothes. You stalled, body burning up as she kissed along your hips and thighs, pecking at the skin just close enough to make you squirm. “Cumming when you’re high is heavenly. I think you ‘oughta try it out…”
She kissed right on the puffy lips of your cunt, drawing her hands between your thighs to spread them further. You shuddered, heavy eyes watching as Clockwork stared up at you, her one good eye already becoming bloodshot. Her tongue takes a long, achingly good stripe between your folds, soaking up your dripping arousal as you gasp, stomach clenching. “Mmn- So wet already…”
Your knees jerked as she flicked her tongue across your clit, letting your head fall back into the mattress with a groan. “F- Fuck…” It all felt so tingly, so electrifying as she dove her tongue between your puffy lips again. Your high was setting in again, the feeling of her tongue slowly pushing past the tight muscle of your entrance enhanced to feel so nauseatingly good. She was drinking every inch of you up.
“Feel good, angel? You taste amazing…” She mumbled against you, running her tongue to lap up your juices before centering on your clit again. You whined when she sucked the nub, static shooting through your abdomen and arching your back off of the makeshift bed. “Y- Yeah-” You give such a harsh pull on her soft strands, it has her leering up at you with a dragged-out groan. “Need more- Ah!”
Clockwork answers with a stout suck on your clit, delving deeper to press her tongue inside your gummy cunt once again. Your fingers of your free hand grip her hair tightly, stuttering your hips to get her deeper- closer- You almost scream out when you feel a thumb press onto your aching nub.
You’re writhing, barely able to hold the blunt in your opposite hand from how much your body is aching for release. Every movement of her tongue and fingers is sending you reeling, gasping for air as pulses of arousal reach every nerve ending. “You’re so close, pretty girl. Come on, come on-”
A rough pass of her thumb back and forth across your clit has you straining, cunt clenching down so intensely you dig your head into the plushness of the mattress. It feels like you’ve exploded, cunt twitching and aching so good you can barely see the fairy lights overhead. Clockwork rides you through, leaving her arousal-soaked tongue inside to lap up every inch of your crumbling ecstasy. She’s pushing back, practically moaning at how tight you’re tugging her hair.
The pounding in your head subsided when she finally let off, pressing her fingers to spread your soaked lips and view just how aroused you were. You were practically dripping. It was so violent - so dragged out, like no orgasm you’ve ever had before. She snatched the blunt from your wobbly fingers, popping the end between her lips and taking a hearty drag before handing it back to you.
Clockwork’s above you again, panting desperately as she clasps down on your neck, breathing deep as she leaves chaste kisses and bites along the stretch of skin. “Look so pretty when you cum, y’know?” You’re dizzy, legs spread around her hips and hands wrapping around her shoulder blades to claw for more. “Wanna help- Need- need you to-”
“No. Gotta show you all the best feelings, alright?” She sounded so much more intense, so in charge, as she pushed off of you. Being high made you hazy and aloof, but it made Clockwork rough and dominant. There was no fighting her intentions as you tried to calm your still-dizzy aftershock. She moved so hungrily, so eager to please.
Her hands were in her bag again, pushing junk around until she hauled out a smaller baggie, the drawstrings cinched. “Got this a bit ago- You’re gonna love it.”
You nearly cried when she tugged out a thick, realistic-shaped dildo. You sat up, nervousness ticking through your body as you watched her fish for something else in the bag too.
“Wanna try?”
You were nodding before you even realized it, Clockwork fishing a small bottle of lube from the bag and discarding the rest, something else clearly inside. You let her hands push you back against the mattress, prying her hands between your tired thighs and massaging your sensitive skin. You took another hit of the blunt, the sourness soaking in and calming your chattering nerves before you tossed the smoldering roll onto the ashtray.
But they started right back up again when Clockwork reached to unclasp your bra, pulling the fabric off of your tits and instantly latching onto your nipples. You whined, tangling fingers into her hair and tugging her up, pulling her to your stuttering lips. “Wanna feel it-”
Clockwork smiled her eagerness as she leaned off of you, tugging her own bra over her head and reaching for the dildo again. You gaped at her, the pure eagerness she held as you heard the lube bottle cap pop open, Clockwork careful not to drip any as she let the liquid trail down the erotic toy. You tried to keep your breathing steady, watching carefully as she moved the bottle from the toy over to your whiny cunt, letting the liquid droop down between your folds. You gasped, the cold feeling making chills spread as she leaned close again. “Can’t wait to taste you on this thing…” She sneered, kissing the tip of the toy so teasingly you shuddered.
“Please-” Clockwork’s sharp canines tugged at your bottom lip, you moaning into the messy clash of the kiss as you felt the cold silicone slap gently against your folds. “Please- fuck m’burning up-” You choke, angling your hips to try and press the head inside. There was nothing you wanted more, cunt clinging and crying for stimuli again until Clockwork was laughing against you. “So whiny…” She nicked a kiss against your shoulder.
You glanced down through heavy eyelids, the dildo sitting so heavily sandwiched between your swollen folds and just teasing to be slid inside. The silicone glistened with the lube, your lips pouting when you angled your hips further to slide inside, only for Clockwork to tug it back. You whined, her kisses along your neck halting as she breathed against your ear. “Easy, pretty girl, let me handle it.”
She was pushing your back up, sliding behind you, and tugging you into her lap, her strong arms wrapping around your torso. “Lay back, angel… Spread your legs for me…” She was coaxing your every move, pulling your knees back to angle the toy at your willing cunt. You were practically vibrating, arms reaching back to grasp onto her shoulders as she began to push.
“Yes-” Before Clockwork could tease you anymore, she was giving a slow, nauseating slide into your cunt. And then you couldn’t breathe- you couldn’t manage anything but a desperate moan. Pressing your shoulders back into her chest, she let the slick toy stretch you open. The push against your entrance had you mewling, senses heightened to a dangerous degree as your head pounded between your ears. The girth slid in, pressing against your velvety walls and finding your arousal clamping down. “Oh-” Clockwork’s gasping when she finally got the hilt of the toy to slap against your folds, bottoming out inside of you and leaving your head spinning. You felt so full, so incredibly stretched. It wasn’t like normal, your high was making it feel like every twitch of your cunt could wrack your body.
You tried to glance back at her, your heavy eyelids making your vision blurry as she began to move, her arm straining to tug the toy from the tight ring of your entrance and push it back in. “There we go… Feel it out…” She nibbled against your earlobe, wet kisses soaking into your skin as sweat beaded on your forehead, your body aching. The push was numbing, every jostle of the toy in and out leaving you strained for more, body pleading to go faster.
“Wanna- Wanna feel you-” Your nails were digging into her shoulders, hips stuttering to plow deeper, Clockwork driving her arm as fast as she could. “Fuck- Alright, alright-”
She gave one last drive of the toy, gripping your hand to reach down and hold it there as she slid out from behind you, laying you down. You whined, confused and desperate to have her back on you again, beginning to lean up until you saw her reach for the baggie again.
“Hold on, angel. Keep stretchin’ yourself, alright?” She looked so hazy, her cheeks dark and eye bloodshot as you obliged, leaning back on your elbow to slowly tug the toy in and out. You felt so light now, dizzily fucking yourself as Clockwork tugged what looked like a belt out of the baggie, your confusion evident.
She unclipped the straps, tugging her boxer briefs down and strapping it around her muscled thighs. You halted your movements, leaning up to watch as she snugged the fabric around, positioning it how she needed it as she reached for the toy between your thighs.
“Lay back…” She coaxed as she slotted the toy into the holster in the fabric, snugging it down to look like she was sporting her own cock. You smiled, suddenly finding the sight very funny as you leaned forward, resting your hands on her shoulders.
Clockwork sat back into the pillows, confusion striking her features and she stroked the toy, her intentions set on fucking you. You couldn’t help but want more though, turning around to lean back, the toy sliding between your thighs as you sat back on her lap. “Fuck…” Clockwork groaned, hands gripping your hips to tug you back.
You gripped the toy, your cunt throbbing as you pushed the head against your entrance, sitting back to let it slide in the same aching way as before. “Ah-” Your knees dug into the mattress, hands resting atop Clockwork’s as the silicone spread your entrance, the familiar stretch making you smile. Your jaw went slack, puffy lips holding open as your ass pressed back against strong hips. You tried not to stutter as you felt the hilt again, Clockwork huffing her arousal behind you.
“Looks so good, angel. Fuck my cock, just like that…” She smiled, leaning forward to nip your shoulder again, chills filling you. You were bouncing back, hips bumping with electric slaps as you rode back on the dildo. It was reaching deeper now, every inch schlicking further than before as you fucked your fack onto the length. You felt so dizzy, so cockdrunk as Clockwork groaned into your shoulder, moaning every time you did.
A snap of your hips told you she was feeling it too, the toy hilt grinding down onto her clit with every slap back, practically fucking you both. You let your jaw go slack, reaching back to wrap your fingers around the straps on her thighs, tugging them closer. Clockwork followed, snapping her hips to push into you every time you sat back, meeting your thrusts.
“Sh-Shit-” You felt your gummy walls clamping, straining to keep the toy as deep inside as she could fuck into you, arching your back sinfully to get it deeper.
Clockwork’s moan made you flinch, her forehead falling against your shoulder as she reached around, pushing your ass off abruptly as she fiddled with the base of the dildo. You were confused, impatient tinges of your hips making her giggle. You were about to push her hand out of the way, upset by the lack of movement until you heard the small click of a dial.
Your chest tightened, the clamp in your abdomen knotting as you felt the loud vibration knocking against your g-spot. Clockwork moaned out, a cut-off gasp making your eyes roll as she began to fuck into you again, the rumbling toy lodging itself inside.
You suddenly couldn’t keep your composure, your knees sliding out as you fell chest-first into the plush mattress, Clockwork gripping your hips to follow you down.
“Push back- There you go…” She was huffing as you arched your back, her hands pressing down on your shoulders to keep your face smashed into the fabric, sweat beading and dripping off of your skin. You’re gasping at the feeling of your toe-curling high, shots of pure pleasure running through your body as she snaps her hips into yours. Muffled moans and desperate claws against bare skin are the only things you can register, the absolute abusing stretch of the toy inside of your plush walls making you reel.
“Thought you could take it, huh? Wanted it so bad.” She was teasing you now, venom and arousal dripping from her every word, her quick pants loud behind you. “Hah-” Your back arches up sluttily into her as her rough cockhead was grazing so perfectly against your g-spot, her thrusts picking up pace. She was feeling it, you could tell by the way every time you felt the hilt on your puffy lips she was cracking out a moan too. The vibration was wrecking you both.
“Feels so good…” You’re mewling, reaching back to grip onto those straps again as she claws into your shoulders. You hold her legs there, not letting her thrust anymore as you begin to grind back, spine arching as far as you can get it.
The vibration of the toy is puffy on her clit, the hilt rumbling against the nub and making Clockwork choke out curses. You let the head press deep, stretching against taught muscles inside and ruling you over.
Convulsing over and over under her firm press, you can feel your orgasm clamping down on your abdomen again. “Feels so good- m’cumming m’cumming ah-” You’re choking out, hips stuttering back to grind against the girth. Clockwork’s snarling, taking deep breaths as she ruts her hips too, chasing the same feeling.
You’re dizzy, the pure wave after wave of arousal crashing into your body like a weight, your eyes rolling so far into your head you can barely see. Your cunt clenches, pulsing around the toy that's still rumbling inside of you to milk out every last round of your orgasm. Clockwork is shaking above you, hips jerking and thighs shaking as you hold her close by the straps, her body weight cascading on top of yours. “Christ-”
Your hips let out, falling flat against the mattress as she lays on top, breathing through her wilting shock until she's able to pull out, snapping the clasps undone and tossing the toy to the side.
You’re both panting, cunts swelled and aching from exhaustion as you cling together, sweaty bodies sticking close. It’s all you can do not to fall asleep right then, the overexertion of your still-high mind making everything seem so fuzzy. The sour smell still surrounded you, the thumping of the music inside the Jeep slowly coming back as you settle your nerves.
“Can’t- Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that-” Clockwork pants out, her nose finding its way to the crook of your neck and taking deep inhales. You were ecstatic, body too tired to show it but mind running a mile a minute. “I’m just upset it took me getting high to do it…” You sighed back, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and drawing her close, the fairy lights overhead looking all too close to stars and making you so, so sleepy.
Clockwork drags a blanket over to you two, throwing the warm fabric over top and nudging her way back against your side. You’re blinking slowly, trying to stay awake and contemplate, but your brain refusing to compute.
“I don’t want you to leave…” You’re whining quietly, tangling your fingers into her hair as her strong arms clasp around your sides.
“Come with me, then…” She whispered back, kissing your shoulder gently.
You wanted to answer, to reason that you couldn't just leave, that you couldn't just disappear…
You were both breathing steadily, minds quietly fizzling out as you made up your mind.
-
“No fuckin’ way.” Jeff is snickering, bumping your shoulder as you tug a drink from the fridge. Your eyes are heavy, exhaustion still steady as Clockwork slides behind you, grabbing milk for her coffee.
“Watch it.” She’s warning, placing a hand on your hip to slide past you as Jeff continues his tease.
The killer can’t stop staring at the wilts on your neck, the dark hickies and lovebites that gave off the events of last night. You hadn’t realized they were there until you had awoken in the backseat of the Jeep this morning, head pounding and body impossibly sore. Clockwork couldn’t get enough of them though, admiring how nice they looked.
However, she was leaving soon, bags already packed and buying her time with one last breakfast. It didn’t take much convincing for your bags to be shoved in the back too, scooping everything you cared to bring and hauling it down to the Jeep quietly.
“Oh, shit-” Toby was next, tugging the neck of your shirt back but quickly getting a slap on the hand from Clockwork. They were both laughing, Toby gave her a silent nod as she let her arm fall over your shoulder, a quiet answer to his unspoken question. He smiled, turning back to Jeff and shoving his shoulder.
“Say bye to [Y/N]. It’ll be a w- while till we see them both again.”
-
You said your quiet goodbyes as Clockwork pulled her Jeep around the front, popping open the passenger door as you jumped inside. She peeled from the clearing, vehicle bouncing and climbing through the unsteady terrain around the mansion. You watched in the windows as it disappeared, the deep breath you didn’t know you were holding finally letting itself out.
Clockwork reached to tangle your hand with hers, clenching tightly as if she never wanted to let go again.
All the times she visited, and all the stories you wished you would get to experience were slowly becoming a reality with every mile between you and that mansion. Never again would you tie yourself to that place. Glancing over, you smiled.
Freedom never looked so pretty.
This was a request from @bubbleduckie!
Comments and kudos are appreciated!
Thank you to my wonderful editors: @h3llw1 and @solarbites!
#smut#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x female reader#creepypasta x you#creepypasta clockwork#clockwork#clockwork creepypasta#clockwork x reader#clockwork x female reader#clockwork x you#clockwork x y/n#creepypasta smut#natalie ouellette#natalie ouellette x you#natalie ouellette x reader#natalie ouellette x female reader#natalie ouellette smut#natalie ouellette creepypasta#creepypasta natalie ouellette#natalie ouellette x y/n#jeff the killer#ticci toby#eyeless jack#slenderverse#slenderman
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S/O from the support course!!
TYPE: Headcannons, includes: How you meet, How you end up together, and general/extra
CHARACTERS (separate): Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Ochako Uraraka
WARNING: Mentions and references to some of the final battles and events from the series but nothing too big
SHOTO TODOROKI
How you meet:
100% you two met after the sports festival most likely getting help for redesigning his hero costume!!
Assuming it took awhile to choose the designs probably met and had lunch together several times and grew closer
Although lunches were mostly focused on his costume once in awhile would turn into small talk and getting to know one another leading to exchanging numbers
Once finished his costume out of habit started sitting with you
Definitely ended in an interrogation from Midoriya, Ochako, and Iida after he kept on going missing during lunch to sit with you
Grew closer always sitting with one another during lunch and after over text
How you end up together:
Probably went to his friends for help about his feelings
either one of them or he let it slip one lunch and did not realize
Two ways this ends up playing out
Either one: You ask him about it and the two of you talking about it over text that night and putting a label on it (not entirely sure)
Or two: You completely ignore it and he ends confessing like wayyyy later
Either way most likely required pushing from Ochako, Iida, and Midoriya
General:
Will find the smallest errors about his costume just to visit you
If you were to have a sketchbook or journal of some sorts for coming up with designs would put little doodles on the pages ex. smiley faces, cats, maybe even to stick men and heart with ‘us’ in it
If anyone asked about his costume he would (even if not related whatsoever) proudly talk about how you helped him make it
Asked you about whether or not the five wieners kid was right
Always hanging out in the weekend and during lunch due to not sharing any classes
Share bits of each others lunches
Getting close with Midoriya, Ochako, and Iida since you all end up sitting together during lunch ^^
Also with everything that went down in terms of his family situation and other stuff in the first year it’s likely you don’t get together till your second or third year
KATSUKI BAKUGO
How you meet:
Came along with kaminari or kirishima when they were getting costume improvements and met you
You guys were sorta friends for awhile but you weren’t entirely close
Maybe you were the one to propose the idea of his support item in the Shigaraki fight (I forgot what it’s called)
Or he came to you asking about it since you were always doing Kaminari and Kirishimas stuff and you were likely the only support course student he knew and could request it from
Building off that idea it’s probably the only way you guys became friends, I’d imagine you’d end up closer much later in the school year rather then the beginning
You’d end up getting closer as you two worked together on the piece likely meeting after school most times
Potentially gave you a compliment for your work
How you end up together:
It wouldn’t be until you guys are in your second or third year because of your late start
That’s cause I think Bakugo would be someone who very much likes to take his time with relationships
The whole confession was likely a letter on a special holiday probably because he was nervous he’d mess it up and letters are easier
That likely resulted in talking it out over lunch he had set up for you two
Took you to a secluded area not too far from campus with some food he made and you guys put a label on your relationship :))
General:
checks up on you whenever your working outside of school hours and brings you food
Doesn’t yell at you as much as he does at others
NO. MATTER. WHAT. He will always get his costume repaired by you, absolutely refuses to let someone else do it <- this has ended up in several incidents
Recommends you to his friends, 100%
Probably takes you out to lunch to catch up with eachother every once in awhile
Would reluctantly listen if you ramble about costume and support item ideas
building off that he’d probably listen and give his own ideas maybe if you were working with another student would give you feedback on what to add
IZUKU MIDORIYA
How you meet:
You meet around halfway through the school year
Could only be when Hatsume was out sick and he needed repairs on his costume
Either that or Hatsume recommends him to you when she’s busy during school festival
Past then whenever he ended up needed adjustments with his costume and went to visit Hatsume he’d talk to you and check in on you
After some small talk you’d end up exchanging numbers and getting to know eachother better over text
Probably hang out once or twice and invites to join him at lunch! :D
Eventually he starts turning to you and Hatsume for costume adjustments and repairs and you guys slowly grow closer
How you end up together:
Midoriya probably has talked to Uraraka for help
However he’s probably too shy and flustered to confess in person so there’s one of two scenarios
1: he goes to ask Uraraka for help and ends up texting you instead
It ends up a complete incident but you guys talk it out and end up together
OR
2: similarly to bakugo he gives a letter of some sorts and you guys talk about it in a secluded area
You guys likely don’t end up together until your second year though if I’m thinking realistically especially with his dedication towards one for all and being a hero
General:
quirk rambling and analysis together
Study dates :D
Daily good morning texts and stuff since you don’t see eachother super often
Movie dates in each others dorms where you watch documentaries about quirks or all might
Sitting next to eachother during lunch
Maybe he joins you in the support course lab and does his homework or something while you tinker and such :))
Probably lots of time just spent quietly doing work together
Bringing eachother food when either is working for awhile is a 100%
OCHAKO URARAKA
How you meet:
Costume improvements!!!
Specifically working together on her wrist bands, likely took awhile to figure out but you guys ended up close in the end and exchanging numbers!
For the first ‘trial period’ of using them I bet they got tangled often and she’d use that as an excuse to come visit you
Probably got closer over text and it became a very nice friendship
And she would always turn to you about her costume
How you end up together:
Confesses in person, I think she’d prefer to do it face to face even if she’s all anxious and flustered
I think you wouldn’t end up together until your third year due to the events of the final battle
At your grad party she probably took you aside for a a breather and you had a talk
Boom boom and boom you both come back to the party grinning and holding hands and you’re together :))
Very quick and easy but I’m sure her confession was well though out and heartfelt
General:
Eating Mochi together :D
Matching bracelets and stuff if that’s your jam
Building on that you would make them together and everything it would be sweet
Craft and art dates
Walks around the campus together on weekends to catch up with one another
Same as Todoroki if you had a notebook she would doodle in it
Gives you notes with silly drawings since you can’t hang out often!!
Asks for ideas on support items for her costume
I think she’d be fascinated by your work and would end up watching you lots of the time after school
When she changed her hair 100% came to you and you guys figured it out together (probably ended calling in someone else to help though)
Thanks for reading!
Side note: lmk if there’s any other characters you’d like done, I had lots of fun. Additionally apologies if there’s any typos, things don’t make sense, or the characters feel as though they aren’t properly done!
#mha x reader#my hero academia#bnha x reader#my hero academia x reader#uraraka x reader#todoroki x reader#bakugou x reader#midoriya x reader#ochako uraraka x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#izuku midoria x reader#x reader
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*spritzes Sanji with a water bottle* Down boy down! Leave those love handles alone!
A big factor in Zoro’s inability to lose this last bit of weight months and months later is just the general fact that pregnancy changes your body :d his fat distribution is different is all. Also doesn’t help that he most likely experienced quite a lot of stress that just made things harder that first year Sora was born. He’s still just as strong, nothing’s changed in that department, he did regular exercises that got more and more limited until he physically couldn’t do those exercises anymore. His stretch marks will probably fade more within a another couple years but probably wont be gone entirely, just faint lines—also I thought itd be funny to give him a mullet. But also its for good reason. It’s a physical indication that he isnt really paying attention to his needs, hes either just ignoring them or paying too much attention to Sora’s needs, which is reasonable, shes a toddler. Eventually hes forced to get a haircut, hes gotten into a better habit of taking care of his hygiene—still bathes once a week but hey at least hes using actual soap now that isnt 4 in 1 or plain water.
I think his weight and physical appearance would be a sore spot because this man has been training rigorously since he was like 10. Hes always had a very fit, sharp, toned body. He fully expected to have that body back shortly after giving birth and when that didnt happen in true Zoro fashion he tried to speed run his bedrest to train only a week postpartum. It didnt work out obviously, hes still human, hes still a slave to his body’s limitations. I think that now that hes back with the crew and sees that theyre fine with his own eye, hes far less stressed, and collaborating on a good dietary plan with both Chopper and Sanji would eventually produce the physique Zoro would prefer having (Chopper keeps saying he’s perfectly healthy this way, hes not underweight or overweight, that this is a common aftermath with pregnancy, but noooooo Zoro wont listen and is insistent that he wants the rest of this weight gone tomorrow) which wouldnt be what it was like before. The closest I can think of would be a typical body that Ive seen many wwe wrestlers have which is apparently called an endomorph body type? Either way, his body has changed, he has to really learn how to accept that because obviously he doesnt think too highly of his physical appearance in the comic above.
Also I went ham and gave him a mole on his tiddie that tbh I think Sanji likes to kiss :) ^3^
Anyway heres a cute bonus doodle of daddy-daughter workout!
#one piece#one piece fanart#zosan#zoro x sanji#roronoa zoro#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#one piece fankid#one piece oc#seahorse dad zoro#trans zoro
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unfortunately for everyone following this account i watched the planet of the apes reboot trilogy recently and they’ve taken over my brain
rewatching dawn of the apes a few days ago totally ruined me honestly
enjoy some peter jackson king kong stuff too cause thats another ape movie I watched for the first time and also really fuckin liked. I did KK and PotA crossover doodles cause of course I did and the target audience is me and my one friend (he went as far as to actually figure out the logistics of the crossover based on my doodles and is also who got me to watch both ape movies)
#the primate hyperfixation has returned#so many fucking apes in my brain#planet of the apes#dawn of the planet of the apes#pota#caesar#caesar pota#koba#king kong#king kong 2005#doodles#sketch#sketches#not kaiju for once#king kong x pota
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I saw your Mio doodle and now I wonder about a Light Music Club X-Men Edition.. Scott can be on drums he'd be so good at keeping time... whatever Ororo is on (because she'd slay at every instrument) she has to ALSO be on vocals because I believe that's just canon..
maybe Logan can be their roadie
Ah, K-On. My one weakness. I went a little overboard when picturing this, so whoops.
I imagine this being in a universe where there’s still mutants, but Xavier isn’t making them use their powers to fight. Instead, the institute is for learning how to control their powers/providing refuge for mutants who have nowhere else to go, and they go to a mutant/normal human mixed private school for normal education.
Here’s some of my ideas for the club members so far:
Ororo is the bass player and lead vocalist. She’s been inspired to be in a band ever since she lived on the streets as a little kid, where she saw a bass player performing live. Freshmen year of high school, she hears someone absolutely going ham on the drums, and finds Scott playing on his own. It took a while, but she finally convinced Scott to join her. She’s the heart and soul of the group, and main character along with Scott. I don’t see her living at the institute, though Xavier keeps the offer open. Instead, she may live with a 19/20 year old Gambit, who’s living off of the Guild’s money and trying to lay low.
Scott is the drum player. After Xavier picked him off of the streets, he got a bit lost in the mansion and discovered a drum set in the music room (I imagine it used to belong to Erik/Magnus). Xavier sees that the boy has natural rhythm, and decides to find him a teacher. Scott forms a middle school band with the O5, but they had a falling out, causing everyone to go their separate ways. However, Scott is still very passionate about the drums, which is why he eventually joins Ororo. He may be more pessimistic, but his passion for the drums is more than enough to keep him going.
Kurt is the pianist. He’s a transfer student from Germany and has always wanted to be a part of a band like Ororo. It was him that suggested the idea of forming an actual club, and he’s the big idealist/optimist of the group. I can see him not knowing too much on how to play piano, minus the basics he learned from his mother (she taught him how to play despite his three fingers), so when he moves into the institute, Xavier teaches him how to play better. Even though there are some people at school who treat him just as bad as the mobs from his home, he’s still willing to get out there and play with the group.
Hank is the guitarist. He used to be a part of the same group as Scott, but after everyone split a part, he stopped playing entirely. I can see him being intrigued by the talk of a “light music club,” but after seeing Scott was there, he wants nothing to do with it. Eventually, he joins a practice session after Ororo gets through to him, and he realizes just how much he misses playing. Scott and him have the friends-turned-hostile-turned-back-into-friends relationship. Unlike the other three O5 members, his love for music trumps any hostile feelings after the falling out, and he’s willing to give it another go.
Ah, but you can’t have a club without a faculty member as your sponsor;
Mr. Logan was the only available candidate for this. After a lot of begging (and promises that they’d wash his motorcycle every weekend), they eventually get him on board. He pretends to hate it, but it slowly becomes obvious that he has a soft spot for the group. He sees the passion they all have, and it reminds him of when he was younger (hmm… what if Logan was the bass player Ororo saw when she was younger…).
Of course, if we follow K-On, we must have a 5th member that joins later on. I have no idea who that could be. I think there’s a lot of fun ideas depending on who.
#Guess how many rhythm games I’ve played to flesh out this universe.#ask answered#art#digital artist#my art#marvel#x men#beast#hank mccoy#nightcrawler#kurt wagner#storm#ororo munroe#cyclops#scott summers#wolverine#logan howlett#light music club universe
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A Night of Staying In
After all the doom and gloom in other writing I really needed some cutesy fluff to feel myself again - and also to give Astarion and Tav a break.
Summary: So have Tav and Astarion just enjoying a cozy night in - also Astarion gets a carrot hurled at his face.
Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav Warnings: Mention of sex, a carrot gets thrown and then murdered Wordcount: 2,2k
Delicious smells of slowly cooking meats and vegetables, spices and a forgotten mint tea were wafting through the kitchen of your cozy little townhouse.
You were bustling around the well-equipped kitchen. The apron you were wearing was full of stains and its pockets full of cooking utensils – even a half-full spoon absent-mindedly tugged away in one of them. It was slowly leaking through the linen with something on it that looked like blood – but was simply a tomatoey sauce. Your hair was messily put up in a bun, but several strands of hair had fallen out of it and you looked only so far from a mental breakdown.
At the kitchen table Astarion was sitting with a lantern, bowing over an embroidery project. He had the very bright lantern you’d gifted him specifically for this purpose directly next to him, but he was still squinting at his work and holding it so close his nose was almost touching the fabric. He looked a lot less demented than you but still very absent-minded.
Fabrics and threads were strewn all about the wooden table. Different needles were glinting everywhere on it too. One could only hope that those would be remembered at some point – preferably before someone stuck them in their fingers.
Next to him were also laying some loose papers, a feather and an ink pot with lots of writing that was then crossed out again and also some small little doodles on the corners – one for whatever reason happened to be a goose with a knife in its beak.
You had several pots on the iron stove and something about to go in the oven as well. Critically you were moving around between all of these things, clattering with copper pot lids, jars of ingredients and spoons to try the food (always in the same pattern: grabbing a new spoon, trying something, putting the spoon in the dish bowl full of dirty water – then having to grab a new spoon). You had some potatoes boiling and in another pot you had been cooking a mixture of vegetables and beef for quite some time. You wanted to recreate a recipe of cottage pie that you had once tried many years ago in a tavern and had kept reappearing in your dreams. And now you finally had the kitchen and the tools to try and cook it yourself!
But it seemed impossible to get it right, this already being your fourth attempt this week. The vampire had already been moaning that you had basically force-fed him the meal because you had no way of eating that much pie on your own. It was not, that the finished pies hadn’t tasted well, but they just weren’t like you remembered. But you started to think that it might be your memory that was tricking you and not your cooking skills.
You went to try the pie filling again after adding some more spices and dash more red wine (directly from your goblet because you didn’t seem to remember where you put the bottle).
As soon as the spoonful hit your tongue you knew you had done it – finally.
You shrieked and immediately heard another shriek behind you in reply. You turned around to Astarion with glee and saw how the vampire was staring at you angrily and shaking his hand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out your sudden excitement had caused him to stab himself with his needle.
“Darling, can you maybe not scream like a dying goblin, I was concentrating!”, he hissed at you. Your joy evaporated at his flare of anger – so you turned around again, grabbed a left over half of carrot and threw it at Astarion – and maybe a bit more forceful than would have been necessary.
But he was still a rogue and dodged the vegetable easily. It flew against one of the cabinets and then to the ground. There it stayed until Scratch came into the kitchen, drawn there by the sudden noises. The dog sniffed at the piece of vegetable, then grabbed it and went off again.
“Oh really, are we at the ‘I throw stuff at my lover’ point of our relationship now, love?”, Astarion replied to your responsive outburst of anger with a raised eyebrow. “Am I going to have to sleep on the sofa next?”, he continued sassily.
Your hand itched to grab more produce – there were some potatoes still laying around and they made for excellent improvised throwing weapons. But you saw the smirk that played around the vampire’s lips. So you settled for a verbal rebuttal.
“Don’t be such a prick and you can keep sleeping inside”, you said and flipped him off. Then you turned around again to your cooking and grabbed – yet another – spoon and scooped up some of the filling. The vampire mumbled something under his breath about he wouldn’t have to be a prick if you didn’t make him prick himself.
“Oh, that would be so gracious of you, my dear lady, if I was still allowed in your shining presence”, Astarion then said loudly as you were busy with the pots. The tone still very sassy but you heard the playfulness in it now and knew he was now only teasing.
You went over to him, with one hand under the spoon full of hot goodness that immediately started dripping and burning your hand. You winced but kept going.
“Here, try this – I think I got it now”, you said as you stood in front of Astarion who had put down his needlework for the time being. He threw you a pained look: “Love, if you keep feeding me this I think I might actually start to get a pot belly.”
You snorted at him and eyed what you could see of his upper body. “Pretty sure, you will never have to worry about this kind of thing. Now. Try. It”, you answered and insistingly came closer with the spoon.
Astarion sighed, gave you another suffering look and then let himself be fed. His doubtful expression quickly changed to what you interpreted as pleasantly surprised.
“Alright, I take everything back, that was well worth the scream of enlightenment, my sweet. That tastes wonderful”, the vampire said and grinned at you.
“See, wasn’t so hard, was it”, you said and gave him a quick peck on the lips as you could see his face changing to annoyance once more at your petty remark.
You threw the spoon in the dish bowl and rubbed your hands on your apron and started to get everything ready for the final step of the recipe. Meanwhile you said to Astarion: “So, darling, could you write down the following: one and a half cups of red wine and three instead of two sprigs of thyme and just loads of black pepper.”
“Of course, my darling chef”, Astarion replied cheerfully and grabbed the feather and papers laying next to him to write it down. “Any other changes?”
“No, this will be it”, you responded and happily clapped your hands before you put your filling in a cast iron pan, mashed and seasoned the potatoes and then put them down as the topping of your pie. The final touch was some hearty cheese sprinkled on top. Then you put it all in the oven.
In the meantime, you heard the feather scratching over the paper.
“What are you doing, Astarion?”, you asked as you took off the oven mitts from pushing the pan in to cook.
“Just putting the recipe in clean writing for you, my heart”, the vampire replied as he kept looking through older versions and notes on the papers. Brows furrowed as he was concentrating on it.
“That’s sweet, love, thank you”, you said to him but he didn’t reply and probably hadn’t even noticed. Of course – if you said something actually nice you fell on deaf ears.
So you decided to thank him with another gesture. You grabbed another goblet to pour your vampire a cup of wine but as you looked around to find the opened bottle you saw that it had been next to Astarion with an already filled cup all along.
You gave up and sat down across the table with your own cup of wine as Astarion finished up writing. You put one leg up on the bench and hugged it to your chest, head on top of the knee and watched the pale elf.
“Here you go, my sweet”, the vampire exclaimed cheerfully after a few more moments and handed you the finished recipe that was now written cleanly in his neat and beautiful handwriting. ‘Tav’s specialty cottage pie’ stood atop the page and next to it was a little doodle of some steaming hot pie.
You smiled broadly at Astarion: “Thank you, darling.” Then you shortly leaned on the table, almost climbing over it to give him a kiss while carefully trying to avoid the needles.
“Do you sometimes wonder how we ended up like this?”, you softly asked him after you had read through the finished recipe.
“Like what?”
“Well, like this – all domestic. I’m cooking, you’re embroidering, we’re bickering like an old married couple, drinking wine and just enjoying a cozy night in instead of wreaking havoc somewhere out there”, you said and waved vaguely in the direction of the city beyond the walls of your home. Then you took another sip of wine.
“Let’s be honest with ourselves, we’ve been bickering like that from the moment we met”, Astarion answered and looked at you sternly. You shrugged in agreement.
“As for the rest – well, are you enjoying the way we spend our nights like this sometimes? Because if you’re bored-“
“No no, I’m enjoying this an awful lot. It’s just – this is somehow the most unlike turn of events don’t you think? Like, I sometimes can’t believe we actually ended up in the version where we’ll live happily ever after”, you said and cradled your face in your hand not currently holding a cup of wine.
At your words a warm and adoring smile crept onto Astarion’s face.
“Are you though?”, you asked then.
“Hm?”
“Are you enjoying these kinds of nights?”, you asked Astarion again and lifted your head up to look straight at him.
The vampire looked at you, smile still playing around his lips: “Well, my love, after two hundred years full of godsdamned shit I am enjoying this sort of mundanity quite a lot. And I enjoy it even more because I get to spend it with you. I might even enjoy doing the dishes with you later on – unless you don’t splash me like last time.”
You smiled at him too now, broadly – feeling incredibly lucky that you had indeed taken all the right turns that had led you here, to this: sitting at this kitchen table with the love of your life, talking about doing the dishes.
“But if we ever get bored, my sweet, I have quite a lot of ideas on how to spice things up”, Astarion continued afterwards. The smile morphed into a lewd smirk and his red eyes sparkled mischievously: “For example, I could dramatically throw everything on this table to the ground, rip all your clothes off and have my way with you on this table until you forget your own name.”
His voice had suddenly become deep and smooth like dark molten chocolate. You bit your bottom lip as the mental image of his words set in and you just stared into his eyes point blank. Astarion still looked at you, not breaking eye contact, and his teasing smirk only growing.
“Nah”, you made after some more moments, “not tonight. My cottage pie would burn.” Your tone was matter-of-fact and you drank some more of your wine while still looking into the vampire’s eyes.
Then you both broke down laughing. So much so that you had to wipe tears from your eyes by the end and Astarion had his face buried in one of his hands while silent fits of laughter still shook through him.
“Alright”, he said and bit his lip, one of his fangs showing adorably as if he was a cat, “I’ll write it down for another date night then.” You broke out laughing again.
Until you could actually smell your food burning. With an “oh shit” you jumped up and pulled the pan out of the oven – you had saved it just in time.
You got out some plates and forks, and put some generous servings onto them. As you turned around your gaze fell onto the table full of Astarion’s embroidery supplies. Astarion saw your look, then waved it off, dismissing it.
He grabbed one of the filled plates from you and grabbed your then free hand to lead you to the living room. Scratch was there laying on his designated blanket, chewing on his favourite ball. Some telltale orange spots telling the tale of the fallen carrot.
You settled down on your sofa with your food – you swinging your legs over Astarion’s and getting cozy.
And this is where you stayed: eating until you felt like your belly might burst, joking until you were crying again, talking until you got so tired you almost drifted off into dreaming right then and there. And when you had went to bed: holding each other until you woke up in the other’s arms again.
#astarion#astarion x tav#baldurs gate#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#astarion x reader#astarion x mc#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x oc#astarion x you#fanfic#fanfiction#astarion ancunin#bg3 spoilers#tav#one shot#drabble#poro fics
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Doodles ~ Part 1
Trafalgar Law soulmate au | Imagine a magical connection between you and your soulmate, where everything you write on your arm appears on your soulmate's arm, too.
Fluff? A bit of angst? Idk what this is. Probably trash. Happy ending tho.
Part 1/3 | Part Two
Law was in the middle of writing medical journals on his research when he suddenly stopped, noticing something in the corner of his eye. He looked down at his forearm where a doodle of a tiny mushroom was slowly disappearing. He was used to the little doodles appearing every now and then, and like always he shook his head and ignored it as he went back to his writing.
The mushroom disappeared completely but not even a minute later another doodle appeared. This time, it was a little frog. And just as Law was about to continue writing he watched as the doodle begin to disappear. “How childish” he muttered to himself. He had no interest in finding his soulmate, he reminded himself again that he is far too busy and the very concept of someone being out there just for you was foolish.
Yet despite Law's attempts to focus on his work, the doodles kept reappearing and disappearing. They started to annoy him since they kept distracting him from importer matters. With a sigh he yet again reminded himself that there was no point in even entertaining the thought of his soulmate since that person would no doubt eventually be dragged down by all his troubles. He focused his eyes on the paper in front of him, once again attempting to ignore the doodles appearing on his arm.
Everyone in the four seas grew up knowing the concept of finding your soulmate. You remember being told as a young girl that if you write a message on your arm, someone out there will be able to read it and they would write back. You were so excited the first time you wrote a message, you couldn’t help but wonder what your person would be like. What are they going to write back? Will they be funny? Maybe they are really smart? What do they look like? Where are they from?…The very thought of having someone out there destined for you was so exciting, it was like having a best friend made exactly for you! So when no reply appeared on your arm you thought, maybe they are asleep right now? Or maybe it disappeared before they noticed it? But when days grew in weeks, into months, your disappointment grew immeasurable. Were they okay? Did you just not have a soulmate?
Law was no exception to the belief that everyone has a soulmate. He knew the concept. He just had no desire to find his soulmate in the first place. Because of his past record, because of his past, because of…him, he feared he would only be a burden to some poor girl out there. And if he ever did find his soulmate, he believed they'd eventually just be dragged down with his problems. So he decided to ignore the concept entirely. He decided to ignore the scribbles that kept appearing on his arm and after a while his soulmate stopped writing messages. Only to be replaced by silly doodles instead.
And the same happened today, more silly doodles appearing and disappearing. Law decided to continue with his work, shaking off the occasional distraction, he was more used to it by now. Though it was still annoying every now and then. Just as went to grab his coffee mug he noticed a small doodle of a bear which involuntarily caused him to give a small smile.
And for a brief moment, he allowed himself to believe he was deserving of a soulmate. Just a brief moment, a mere thought. He immediately shook away the smile, trying desperately to avoid any feeling of sentimentality. He had more important things to do than to think about a silly concept.
You gave up a long time ago writing to your soulmate. You told yourself that you probably didn’t even have one. And if you did they never wrote back so why bother? Sometimes for fun, or when you were bored you would draw little doodles on your arm…no, deep down you knew you did this just in case. Just in case they did exist, maybe you could make them smile or remind them that you were still out there.
The doodles that have appeared so far today have all been silly. A little mushroom, a badly drawn frog, multiple flowers, some squiggly patterns and the little bear. The bear was…kind of cute? He thought for a second before he ran his fingers through his hair and attempted to collect his thoughts. He needed a break. Soon he’d be traveling with the Strawhats and he needed to complete his plans.
Fast-forward
Today was the day he would temporarily part with his crew, keeping them safe while he completed his upcoming mission. Law scans through his notes as he walks to the Sunny wanting the ensure he was fully prepared, or at least as prepared as he could be when dealing with the Strawhats. He notices another doodle appear, this one depicting a little bee. He chuckles briefly and shakes his head. It just seemed so silly. Do they have nothing better to do?
However, the fact that his soulmate drew doodles like that made Law feel oddly warm...just for a moment, just the briefest moment. He was surprised with how much a little doodle could brighten up his day. He smiled to himself before it even crossed his mind. And just like that, his warm feeling was instantly replaced by his usual cold-hearted persona. He needed to get on the damn ship, there were more important things to do than to keep staring at his stupid arm. And so, with some grumbling, he made it onto the ship. After a few hours he noticed the doodles had stopped appearing entirely, maybe his soulmate had given up. Maybe they'd simply gotten bored. Either way, it didn't matter. His sole responsibility was to get through this next mission. Nothing else mattered.
The next few days were rather busy as he attempted to plan and research around the chaos of the strawhat crew. No little doodles had appeared on his arm since he got on the ship. He didn't mind at all, if anything, he enjoyed having his arm free from the distraction. Law was finally able to have a few minutes in peace and quiet. Despite telling himself this multiple times he couldn’t help but occasionally glance at his arm. For some annoying reason the lack of silly flowers and bears appearing was starting to bother him.
He would never admit it but with each day that went by without seeing a stupid cat or a silly frog made him feel, sad. The silence that the lack of doodles had left almost made him feel lonely in a way, he hated it. He didn't understand why it bothered him. The doodles were nothing but stupid, insignificant scribbles. Yet somehow, his day just seemed to feel empty without them.
You didn’t know Law all too well but you knew that Luffy considered him an ally, a friend, which was good enough for you. Luffy told you he was a bit grumpy but a good guy who would help us. The first time you ever spoke to law he explained Despite their differences and how often they disagreed, he could admit they had built a certain level of trust...but he'd still punch Luffy if he tried anything funny though. You noticed Law standing out on the deck looking even more annoyed than usual as he looked out at the sea.
Law was leaning against the railing of the ship as he observed his surrounding with a frustrated expression. The seas were calm and the breeze was gentle, his mood was not. He was irritated. It made absolutely no sense. He had more important things to think about. Like...the mission at hand he told himself. The longer he thought about it, the more he started to get the impression his soulmate had obviously given up for good. This was the longest they had gone without drawing anything. He was actually becoming quite miffed about it. Why would they suddenly stop? Of course, that thought made him feel rather dumb because it’s not like he ever wrote back…but still, it made him oddly annoyed. He was actually starting to get jealous. Maybe someone else might have caught his their eye. Maybe they didn’t have time anymore? Law shook his head furiously to try and force that nonsense out his head.
You made your way over to Law, maybe he just needed some company? It must be hard being on an unfamilar ship, maybe he misses his own crew?
Law looked up as he saw you approach him, he didn't seem particularly pleased. In fact, he barely looked pleased at all. However, when he saw it was you he looked like he was forcing himself not to seem annoyed. He even made an effort to loosen his expression a bit. Though he was still visibly irritated, he tried his best not to snap "If you need something, what is it?"
You chose to ignore his irritated tone, he’s definitely not in a good mood. “Just thought you could use some company? Must be hard being away from your crew”
Law was about to snap at you but he held his tongue. Maybe he was being too harsh. Perhaps he was letting out his frustration on you, which wasn't fair. Instead, he attempted to soften his reply, though the fact that he was in a bad mood made the reply sound annoyed. "I'm fine. I just have a lot of important things I have to do”
“Like stare at your arm every two minutes?” you softly chuckle.
Law paused for a moment. His expression immediately darkened after he realized you noticed him doing that. He was caught red-handed. And he did not like it. He let his annoyance show, as he sharply said..."What of it?." He immediately cursed himself for letting his annoyance get the best of him. He was trying not to take it out on you, but he had just done the exact thing he tried not to do.
Again you chose to ignore the blatant annoyance in his tone and asked simply “Are you waiting for your soulmate to write back?” you asked curiously.
Law's eyes narrowed a bit more when you said the word "soulmate". However, you were right. He had been doing just that, although he would never admit it at the moment. "It's...it's nothing”
“I’m sure they will write back” you smile reassuringly. “is that what has you so grumpy?” You add with a playful smile.
“I’m not grumpy” He quickly grumbled. "And as for my soulmate, I assure you, I do not care if they write back or not. And for your information, they haven't written a thing in days, so I am certain that they don't have time to write anymore. In fact, I am certain that they will never write back. If anything, I have been enjoying the silence." He was trying way too hard to put on a stubborn front. He crossed his arms, attempting his best to act like he didn't care. However, it was a poor attempt. He cared a lot, and he wasn't sure what to do. Why was he so miffed about it? He was trying to be rational and suppress his emotion but he was failing miserably. If only they would just write back. There was also the fact that he was feeling strangely lonely because the doodles had stopped appearing. He was actually growing quite attached to them, despite being fully aware of the irony of the fact he himself has never written a single thing.
“Uh huh…” despite his outburst it was pretty clear that he did in fact care. “Well at least your soulmate writes back at all” you mumbled with a hint of a sad tone.
"...What do you mean by that?" there was an almost accusative tone in his reply. As if he was trying to pry at you. This was a great chance to distract him from his own misery.
“I mean that at least you have a soul mate to write back…I don’t even have one” you let out a small laugh in attempted to cover up your depressive words.
Law paused for a moment when you mentioned not having a soulmate. He didn’t want to pry too much as he felt you didn't want to go into detail, yet he decided to humor your statement. Law sighed. “How do you know you don't have a soulmate? Maybe they're just really slow with their writing."
“Yeah because I’m sure it takes them years to come up with something to say” you deadpan back.
Law couldn't help himself and he let out a soft chuckle at your humour. As he returned to his usual self, he spoke again. His tone was sarcastic as usual and he raised an eyebrow. “You should be glad that you don't have one. Having a soulmate seems to cause more headaches than joy at times." Law continued to observe you, noticing that his little comment left an impact on you. Your body language instantly changed and your cheerful demeanor quickly vanished when he made his comment. He had inadvertently struck a chord.
“Hmm…maybe” your attempt to go and cheer Law up was quickly crushed as you were reminded that you didn’t have a soulmate, or at least one who wanted you. You tried not to think about your soulmate never writing back to you but when you did it just made you…sad.
Law immediately noticed the tone of your voice instantly dropped the moment you spoke. It was evident that his statement bothered you. Though he didn’t show it, he felt somewhat guilty about having said that. What a fool he was, he had been trying to lighten the mood by saying that it isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, but all he did was be insensitive...and there it was, again. That sinking feeling that he was doing something wrong.
“Anyway dinner is in about an hour so…if you excuse me I have some work I have to do” you put on a smile as you excused yourself.
Law was still deep in thought when you gave your excuse and left. As you walked away, the sinking feeling grew in his chest. He had messed up again, he was too insensitive. He should have realised that his little comment would bother you, especially considering the fact that you never heard back from your soulmate. He should have been more considerate. However, he was so preoccupied with his own feelings that he hadn’t even considered your feelings. A new sense of guilt also washed over him as he thought about that fact he never replied to his own soulmate. Was there was another girl out there feeling sad like you? Thinking that they don’t have a soul mate just because he’s too stubborn to write back.
Law sighed and walked away as well. What a fool he was. Soon he was back with the rest of the crew and he was already being bombarded by Luffy’s shenanigans. Law had no choice but to keep it together. He was going to get through this mission and then he'd deal with his feelings. Because after all, feelings are nothing more than a distraction.
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Naomi Girma trying to study while Reader aimlessly doodling in her notebook (mixed with little notes of encouragement and bad drawings)
N. Girma - Distraction | WC: 506
an: first post in awhile, hopefully you enjoy bff! 🫂
You sighed softly as you drew aimlessly in the corner of the page Naomi was currently adding notes to. Before big tournaments, Naomi liked to study the teams she’d be going up against, mainly wanting to understand the attackers and how they liked the play. With the Olympics right around the corner, she had a lot of teams to rewatch films for.
You two were lying in bed, watching a recent Australia game on the TV as Naomi took notes, focusing on how the Aussies liked to attack when they had the ball. You loved watching how contracted she was when studying, you knew she liked always to be prepared and it definitely paid off on the field.
Your random doodles turned to littering the page with hearts and words of encouragement, knowing that when Naomi looked through the notebook while in France, she’d see the little notes you left her. In the middle of writing, ‘I’m so proud of you!’ Naomi moved to turn the page, interrupting your writing.
“Hey! I wasn’t done!” you gasped softly, earning a small laugh from the defender.
“You’re distracting me with your drawings,” she joked, hitting pause on the game and turning to face you with a smile.
“I was leaving little notes for you,” you pouted as you tried to turn the page back so you could finish your note.
You had filled the margins of the page with hearts, small notes, and random squiggles that had no meaning. Naomi smiled as she read some of the notes you left, knowing just how much you loved and supported her.
“You’re so cute,” she mumbled, leaning over to give you a quick kiss.
You both smiled into the kiss before you both pulled away. “You finish your note and I’ll go get us some snacks,” the defender smiled as she handed you her notebook and moved to stand up.
You beamed at her as she left the room, turning your attention back to the notebook in your lap. You finished your note before adding a few more hearts before turning to her new page and leaving even more cute notes of encouragement. At the very bottom, you wrote ‘I love you so much’ before adding one final heart.
Naomi returned just as you sat the notebook down, grabbing the drink she offered you before she rejoined you on the bed. She sat some snacks in between you and picked up her notebook, hitting play on the game. You watched her in silence as she studied the Aussies, jotting down notes as she went. When she reached the bottom of the page, she stopped as she read your note.
“I love you too,” she mumbled as she turned to you, leaning in for another quick kiss.
You sighed once more, this time in content as you leaned back against the pillows. You snacked as the game continued, though you were more interested in watching your girlfriend as she prepared for one of the biggest moments of her career thus far.
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"So they went back to excursions in the lab, among the beakers and swooping tubes, the bright colors from the liquids throwing a kaleidoscope of reflections on the walls. (As far as Tavish knew, most of these chemicals weren’t supposed to be chromatic, especially not cherry red or toxic green, but things had been that way ever since he’d cleaned out the lab as a wee lad and claimed it for his own. He’d always chalked it up to another one of the castle’s quirks.) Tavish eventually found himself holding a tube partially fumed ether, waving it around as he bemoaned the trials of real alchemy."
My artistic rendition of a scene from hanktalkin's 'Realms of the Unreal' for this years @tf2bigbang! It's such a lovely story I highly recommend! I had a lot of fun with this! :)
Check out @xyzzymancy ‘s illustration for this fic too!
Plus some silly doodles with mild spoilers under the cut. :)
#the colours and painting were so fun to do :)#drawing#my art#digital art#team fortress 2#tf2 fanfiction#tf2bigbang2024#tf2 demoman#tf2 demo#tf2 soldier#illustration#boots n bombs
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You mentioned in the Robotnik Land post that Robotnik and Sonic seem friendly with each other in the road trip AU, any doodles of what these interactions look like ?
Absolutely loving the road trip AU so far btw !!!
Thank you!!
Have a little snip bit of the interaction Sonic and Robotnik had when they meet in person again for the first time in a few years and the man spotted Sonic absolutely being a dad towards Tails.
Plus an idea for their backstory kinda that I'm kinda still rolling around in my head. (it's under the cut)
Years ago, back when Sonic was 12 and Mighty was 13 (and little Ray wasn't even a year old yet), their home island got destroyed by something (I'm not too sure yet) with those 3 being the only survivors left. Robotnik came to the island often to study the unique wildlife there, but instead found 3 kids scared and alone on a destroyed island. He took them in, helped them recover from the trauma, gave them (Mighty and Sonic, Ray is wayyy too young to do anything) jobs to help run the theme park, and went above and beyond for them.
Sonic however was very distant, he didn't want anything from Robotnik. The incident hit him hard, and he tried to bury it. After the incident, he found it hard to speak sometimes… like his voice was trapped back on the island for no one to hear it. The hedgefox form became affected by his hidden issues, becoming more feral, leaving scars of claw marks on Robotniks hand and arm when he tried to help. Eventually though, Sonic did accept Robotniks help, and slowly recovered.
Robotnik and Sonic bickered a lot, but it was playful. It's their way of showing that they care for the other. Once Sonic left (he didn't stay for very long), the two would send messages to each other, to keep tabs on one another (and to help Sonic recover more). Robotnik became somewhat of a familial figure to Sonic, he's not sure what to call him, so he'll just call him Eggman instead.
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