#i knelt on the corner of a box
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babymorte · 1 month ago
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i can’t believe i dislocated my other knee i shouldn’t be allowed to do anything
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gojonanami · 1 year ago
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❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞
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❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞
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✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K
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It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 
But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 
It was him. 
You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 
“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 
He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 
“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 
Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 
He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 
And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 
Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 
And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 
And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 
Fuck. 
“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 
You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 
“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 
And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 
It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 
He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 
And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 
“I would,” 
And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 
Fuck. 
“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 
But how can you be quiet? 
The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 
And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 
And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 
He’s huge. 
The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.
“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 
“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 
“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”
Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 
And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 
He was too much. 
“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 
“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 
“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 
“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 
And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 
He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 
That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 
“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 
He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 
And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 
“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 
And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 
You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.
“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 
How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 
“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 
And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 
“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 
~~~~
The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 
And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…
You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 
“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 
“What are you—” 
“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 
“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 
“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 
“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 
“Mahito—“ 
“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 
Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 
You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 
His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 
“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?
Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 
“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 
“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 
This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 
“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 
“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 
“I will,” 
“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.
“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 
“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 
And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 
“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 
No time like the present, right?
“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 
And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 
“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 
“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 
“Have another lesson?” 
And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 
He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 
And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 
Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 
And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 
“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 
“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 
One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 
“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 
“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 
His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 
You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 
And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 
Your mouth runs dry. 
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 
Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 
“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 
And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 
His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 
His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 
He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 
And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 
Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 
He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 
“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.
“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 
And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 
“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 
“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 
Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 
“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 
The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 
“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 
“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 
God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 
~~~
The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 
“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 
You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 
You were picking up your boyfriend. 
He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 
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note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!
tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious
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fastandcarlos · 3 months ago
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Baby In Papaya : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: as your son starts to join you in the mclaren paddock, it doesn't take long for him to earn his own piece of papaya too
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The noise in the garage quietened as soon as the team watched you walk in, holding onto the hand of your son. Lando stood up straight away, kneeling down with his arms wide open as your son ran through and jumped straight into Lando’s hold. 
“Hi buddy,” Lando grinned, pressing a kiss against his cheek before placing him back on his feet, allowing him to say hello to the other faces around the garage that he knew. 
Once you had placed your bag down, you made your way over to Lando too, feeling his lips peck against your cheek, his arm snake around your waist. Zak was quick to come and greet you, letting you know just how excited the team were to have you back in the garage again. 
“Anything you need today, you let us know,” he told you, making sure that you were looked after. Since having your son, it was your first time at a race, and the team were keen to make life as easy for you as they possibly could. 
After saying hello, your son ran back over to Lando, hiding behind his leg as the noise got louder. With everyone stood in a huddle, Zak reached up onto one of the shelves, pulling down a box and holding it out to you. 
“We got a little something for the little man to welcome him to McLaren,” Zak told you. 
“Really, you guys are adorable,” you grinned, taking the box from Zak. 
With your son’s help you lifted the lid off, greeted by a patch of papaya straight away. As you reached in, the material unfolded to reveal a McLaren shirt, a smaller replica of the one that Lando wore around the garage. 
Your son’s eyes lit up as he realised that he had been given the same as what Lando wore, bouncing up and down on his feet. “What do you say?” You asked him, watching him peer around from behind Lando and thank Zak for the gift he had given him. 
Soon enough, your son had taken his top off, his arms stretched up in the air. You knew exactly what he wanted, placing the new shirt over his head, pulling it down as it fit perfectly around his little body. 
No one was more excited than Lando though as he knelt down, standing next to your son. They were almost identical in their matching shirts, exactly what Lando had always dreamt of. 
“You look so handsome,” you smiled across at them both. 
“I’m just like daddy now, aren’t I?” 
Your head nodded in reply to your son, “hopefully it stops at the shirt, if it extends to driving race cars too, I think might have a breakdown.” 
Several chuckles came from around the paddock as the team went back to their jobs, leaving you, Lando and your son sat in one corner of the garage, with Oscar soon inviting himself over to join the three of you too. 
“When you were pregnant Lando used to talk about how he wanted to match with his child,” Oscar informed you, “it was all he talked about.” 
“Did he now?” You teased, “funny how you never told me that.” 
Lando shot a glare across at Oscar who had a proud smile on his face, lifting your son and placing him into his lap as he continued to admire his shirt. 
“I was thinking we could head out on a paddock tour in a bit,” Lando spoke, wanting to make sure that his son got the full experience of the garage, even if he was a little too young to be able to take it all in. 
“Will it be safe enough to take him around?” You quizzed, a little more doubtful than Lando was. “It’s busy out there, especially with all the car parts being moved around too.” 
Lando nodded confidently, not wanting you to worry. “I’ll be right there with you guys so you won’t be by yourselves. And if he gets lost, at least everyone will know that he belongs to McLaren now too.” 
Your eyes rolled as Lando proudly admired how amazing your son looked in the shirt once again. It had been a long time since you’d seen him so excited, knowing just how long he’d waited to show your son around, you just couldn’t say no to him. 
As he watched your head nod, Lando’s eyes lit up. “There’s so many people who have been pestering to meet him.” 
“I’m trusting you," you warned, poking against Lando's side. You looked across at Oscar who couldn’t help but laugh at you both, remembering how much fun it was to have you at the paddock. “This might be the stupidest decision that I’ve made in my life.” 
Oscar cleared his throat from beside you, “I’d argue that your stupidest decision was choosing to sleep with this guy,” he joked, smirking in Lando’s direction. “I mean even after all these years I wonder what it was that you ever saw in Lando.” 
“I’m sat right here,” Lando reminded you, speaking as if he was invisible. ”And obviously she saw how devilishly handsome I was, otherwise we wouldn’t have our little papaya baby sat here right now.” 
He was Lando’s pride and joy, on the edge of his seat with excitement about being able to introduce him to everyone. Before you knew it, he was up and holding onto your son to carry him round, hurrying you up so that he could take you around with him. 
As Lando began to walk, you hung back, with Oscar deciding to join you too. “Do you have any idea how excited he’s been to do this?” He asked you. 
“I imagine he’s been unbearable,” you laughed. 
Oscar nodded, never failing to be surprised by how well you knew Lando. “I think everyone has been driven slightly up the wall listening to him this weekend. He’s told me five times alone that you were coming, just in case I happened to forget.” 
Ahead of you, Lando walked with a spring in his step, allowing his son to wave to just about everyone. A few of the other drivers came over, keen to meet the little boy that they had heard so much about. Your son was adorable at the best of times, but dressed in papaya, he had everyone obsessing over him. 
“I think someone’s enjoying themselves,” Lando smiled back at you as yet another driver waved goodbye. Lando bounced your son in his hold, making sure that you saw just how big his smile was. 
“Is it our son, or is it secretly you?” You joked. 
“I’m having the time of my life,” Lando proudly admitted, unable to contain himself. “I always knew it anyway, but papaya really does suit my boy.” 
Your head shook at Lando’s grin, “it was only a matter of time before I ended up losing my son to McLaren, wasn’t it?” 
“His whole wardrobe will be papaya soon, I’ll make sure it’s packed out with plenty of merch,” Lando assured you, “and everyone will know that he is daddy’s biggest fan.” 
“I remember the days when I was your biggest fan,” you joked, “now I’ve just been pushed aside like I’m nothing thanks to our child.” 
“Don’t worry, there’s a place for you at number two.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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nouearth · 1 month ago
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when the snow settles.
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clark kent x male reader.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. clark’s busy spoiling his sick boyfriend with cookies and cuddles—until things heat up when someone decides a kiss (and more) is the real cure for a cold.
𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 & 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 6.0k ].
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 corenswet!clark 〳 established relationship 〳 sick!reader 〳 christmas!au 〳 sexual content: top!clark, bottom!reader, belly-bulging, breeding, rimming (r!receiving), praising, body worship, clark can alter the temp of his body (and dick).
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Snow fell softly outside the apartment, blanketing Metropolis in a serene hush that contrasted sharply with the sound of sniffling from the couch. Clark’s living room was cozy, aglow with the golden twinkle of Christmas lights strung up around the windows. The faint scent of pine mingled with the sweet aroma of gingerbread baking in the oven, though the stuffy haze of your cold dulled the sharpness of both.
You sat bundled in a mountain of blankets, a tissue box on one side and a half-empty mug of tea on the other. Despite the misery of a congested head and the scratchy soreness in your throat, you couldn’t help but watch Clark with a mix of amusement and adoration.
In the kitchen, he moved with a carefree confidence, humming along to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas as it played softly on his phone. He had insisted on baking cookies for the evening, declaring it the perfect way to boost your holiday cheer. Not that you needed much help in that department—his reindeer antler headband, bouncing with every step he took, was doing most of the work.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms, and his glasses had fogged up slightly from the warmth of the oven. Even with the goofy apron he wore—a red and green monstrosity with “Santa’s Favorite Helper” embroidered across the front—he looked unfairly attractive.
Clark glanced over his shoulder at you, a soft smile spreading across his face as his gaze met yours. “You okay over there?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Need more tea? Another blanket? A better boyfriend?”
You groaned theatrically, flopping back into the throw pillows. “What I need is for my head to stop feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton.”
And stones—your flair for drama only worsened the throbbing ache from the sudden movement.
Setting down a tray of freshly baked cookies, Clark wiped his hands on a dishtowel and made his way over to you. He knelt beside the couch, one hand reaching up to take the temperature from your forehead while the other rested lightly on your knee through the blanket.
His touch was warm, steady, grounding.
“Still running hot. Sorry you’re feeling this way,” he said sincerely, his brow furrowing just a little. “If I could punch a cold in the face, you know I would.”
You laughed, but it quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. Clark was at your side in an instant, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back until the worst of it passed. “It’s so unfair that you never get sick,” you rasped, your voice rough and strained. “You’re just… immune to everything. Meanwhile, I’m over here melting into a Christmas puddle.”
“Wow. This is the thanks I get for baking you cookies? My boyfriend wishing ill on me?” He chuckled, resting his elbows on the edge of the couch to stay level with your gaze. "If it makes you feel better, Krypto would probably be thrilled to drink you up if you were a puddle! Likes his water from the spring... spoiled dog."
His grin was boyish and a little smug, and you rolled your eyes at him, though the corners of your lips twitched upward.
“What I’m saying is… we could’ve been sick together,” you muttered, “But I can’t even enjoy them. Look here.” You picked up one of the gingerbread cookies Clark had carefully decorated earlier, the icing swirls and tiny candy buttons a testament to his painstaking attention to detail.
The cookie felt firm yet inviting in your hand, its edges slightly crisp and still warm from the oven. Breaking off a piece, you popped it into your mouth, hopeful that even through the fog of your cold, some of the sweetness might break through.
Instead, all you got was the texture—a faint crunch that dissolved into a soft crumble on your tongue. The spice you knew should be there, the warm bite of ginger and cinnamon that normally screamed Christmas, was muted to the point of nonexistence.
You frowned, swallowing the flavorless bite with effort. A sharp, scratchy sting flared in your throat, the dry irritation making each swallow feel more uncomfortable than the last. The lack of taste was almost offensive, a cruel reminder of how thoroughly your cold had robbed you of simple joys.
Clark’s eyes flicked over to you, catching your expression as you set the rest of the cookie down with a defeated sigh. “Nothing?” he asked, his voice tinged with sympathy.
“Absolutely nothing,” you muttered, your voice still scratchy. “I might as well be eating cardboard.”
Clark chuckled softly, getting up on his feet to sit beside you. “Guess that means more for me, huh?” He reached for a cookie, his teasing grin faltering when he saw your pout, but his craving persisted nonetheless. “Hey, don’t worry,” he added, nudging your shoulder gently. “Once you’re better, I’ll bake you a whole new batch. Extra ginger, just the way you like it.”
“Yeah…”
Clark bit into a gingerbread cookie with gusto, clearly enjoying his own handiwork as he snuggled beside you on the couch.
“Mmm,” he hummed dramatically, his eyes widening as he made a show of savoring the bite. “Oh, wow. These might be my best yet. Sweet, spicy, perfectly baked—chef’s kiss.” He gestured extravagantly, grinning like he’d just won a baking competition.
“Not saying these aren’t good, but I’m pretty sure the last time you made cookies, Krypto got more excited than I did."
You were about to roll your eyes at his antics when you noticed a speck of icing clinging to the corner of his mouth and a small crumb nestled in the dimple of his cheek. It was such a ridiculously human detail—charming in its imperfection—that you felt a sudden pang of affection bloom in your chest.
“Here,” you said, laughing softly as you reached up and brushed the crumb away with your thumb, your fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. His skin was warm, and the bashful smile that tugged at his lips made your stomach flip.
“Didn't stop you from cleaning out the cookie tray...” he murmured, his cheeks pinking slightly as he quickly licked the icing from the corner of his mouth, completely oblivious to how endearing he looked. "Thanks."
You shook your head, biting back a grin. “You’re a mess,” you teased, but your voice was far softer than usual, betraying just how much the sight of him—unpolished, sweet, and so effortlessly Clark—had utterly disarmed you.
Clark’s smile softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. His lips lingered for a moment, warm and impossibly tender against your fevered skin. When he pulled back, he looked at you with that impossibly earnest expression that always made your heart twist.
“It’s nice, though, isn’t it?” Clark murmured, his voice soft and warm, like the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off his glasses. “The cookies, the Christmas specials, the decorations… being snowed in together. Like a Hallmark movie, but… not terrible?”
You could see the flicker of nostalgia in his eyes as he spoke, his tone carrying a quiet sincerity that made your heart ache in the best way. The soft crackle of the digital fireplace playing on the TV and the distant hum of holiday music only made the moment feel more intimate, as if the world outside had disappeared entirely.
A warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with fever. Clark had this infuriating knack for making everything—even being sick—feel like a kind of blessing, as long as he was beside you.
“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, your voice rough but laced with affection. “Talking like I’ve got only two months left to live…” You tried for sarcasm, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.
Clark’s grin softened into something more tender, his gaze unwavering as he watched you. “Yeah,” you admitted quietly, letting out a small sigh. “It’s nice. Really nice.”
The weight of your words hung between you for a moment, and the corners of Clark’s mouth twitched upward again, this time into a bashful little smile. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to.
Instead, his hand found yours beneath the blanket, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles, as if to say everything he didn’t put into words.
You knew he was the strongest man in the world, but it was these quiet moments—his sincerity, his kindness—that made you feel like you were the one holding something unbreakable.
Clark squeezed your hand gently, his expression melting into something tender and a little uncertain. He studied you for a long moment, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. “I mean, really okay? I know I’m supposed to cheer you up, but I don’t want to push too much—especially if you’re not feeling great.”
You leaned your head back against the cushions, exhaling a soft sigh. “Clark, I’m fine,” you said, your voice still raspy but carrying enough exasperation to make your point. “I mean, yeah, I feel like I’ve been hit by a snowplow, but it’s not like I’m about to collapse.” Your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile as you tilted your head toward him.
“Besides, you’ve already gone above and beyond. The cookies, the mistletoe, the cozy speeches… you’re basically an elf on the shelf who magically transformed into the perfect boyfriend overnight.” You reached over, your other hand settling on Clark's broad shoulders as you gently rubbed them, a silent gesture of appreciation.
Clark chuckled at that, but the faint blush on his cheeks deepened. “Well, I don’t know about perfect…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in that adorably bashful way that made your chest tighten.
“Perfect,” you repeated, a little firmer this time, giving his hand a squeeze. “Even in that ridiculous apron.”
He let out a breathy laugh, and the sound sent a flutter through you. The way his smile lingered—soft and boyish, but edged with a quiet intensity—made your stomach flip. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles on the back of your hand, and though the gesture was small, it felt impossibly intimate.
“Clark,” you mumbled, leaning in slightly, the hoarseness of your voice making his name sound heavier, more charged. “Stop worrying so much.”
“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His eyes flicked to your lips before darting away, a faint flicker of hesitation passing over his features. “You’re sick. I don’t want to… you know… make it worse.”
You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a cough. Clark’s expression immediately shifted to concern, but you waved him off, catching your breath as you gave him a lopsided grin.
“Clark, I’m not made of glass. And for the record,” you added, your voice softening as you leaned in just a little closer with the support of your elbows, “I think kissing you would make me feel a whole lot better. Best medicine and all that.”
His ears turned an impressive shade of red, and he ducked his head slightly, his grin both shy and disbelieving. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.
You shrugged, your grin turning sly. “And yet, you’re still here.”
“I’m still here,” he echoed softly, his voice carrying a weight of affection that made your heart ache in the best way. His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the soft glow of the Christmas lights casting him in a golden halo.
Slowly, tentatively, Clark leaned in, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw. “If you wake up tomorrow feeling worse,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in the barest of touches, “I’m blaming you.”
“Noted,” you whispered back, your breath mingling with his as you tilted your head to close the distance between you.
Strange. You hadn’t noticed the scent of cinnamon when he first brought out the cookies, but now, with your lips inching closer to his—like two cookies spreading and melding into one—you could almost convince yourself you were cured. Almost, if not for the stubborn stuffiness in your nose.
The kiss was gentle at first, as if Clark was afraid you might shatter beneath him. But when you let out a soft, contented sigh and threaded your fingers through his hair, his restraint wavered.
He deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a warmth and intensity that made you forget all about the congestion and sore throat. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand pressed lightly against your waist beneath the blanket.
You tugged him closer still, your lips parting to let him in as the heat between you began to build. Clark’s kisses were like him—steady, powerful, and infused with an overwhelming tenderness that made your head spin. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathing harder, the warmth of the moment erasing the chill of the winter night.
“Feeling better yet?” he asked, his voice teasing, though the worry flickering in his eyes betrayed him. It wasn’t just concern over your condition—it was something deeper, a quiet struggle to hold himself back. Not when you looked so effortlessly beautiful, your disheveled state a product of his presence.
“Better,” your voice came out in a whisper, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm before traveling around his torso to untie his apron. “But I think I might need a few more rounds just to be sure.”
Clark let out a soft laugh as you tossed the fabric to the floor, his thumb grazing your cheek in a tender gesture. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, but this time the words were thick with affection. His teeth caught his lower lip as your hands lingered at the waistband of his pajama pants, your intentions unmistakable with the gentle tug at his drawstring.
“You sure?” he asked sincerely, large, calloused hands pressing all over your body, but mainly your bare stomach, where he began mapping out heat zones over the plane.You could feel the strength of his abdomen beneath the thickness of his sweater as your hand gently traced his body in admiration. Biting your lip, you reached up to remove his glasses and nodded.
"If you don’t mind taking care of me tonight.”
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There was something about the way Clark watched you during moments like these. You couldn’t tell if it was the warmth of his touch or the intensity of his gaze that made you feel so small, so vulnerable. Either way, you savored it—the sensation of being his entire focus, the apple of his eye, and nothing else.
Your stomach sank when he slid his third finger inside of your tight hole, joining his twinned index and middle.
“I can never get tired of this…” you mumbled, unbuttoning the rest of your pajama top when the pressure below heightened your body temperature.
“I’ll say,” Clark hummed, a growing mass forming large in his pants as he was knelt on the bed, gently working you open. The sound of his lubed fingers twisting and curling deep inside of you made his cock jolt, your cheeks reddening as a result of his attraction.
Clark had always been patient, but when it came to having you submit under his touch, he seemed to relish every second. His hands moved slowly, pressing and kneading at just the right spots, his fingers curling deep and slow to the rhythm of your heart while his other hand rubbed small and smooth circles over your stomach.
It wasn’t just about easing your tension—it was about watching you. The way your breath hitched when he found a tender spot, the subtle flutter of your lashes, the way your lips parted with a moan when he spread his three digits—it all captivated him.
He couldn’t help but grin softly as his hands worked their magic, savoring the reactions that only he could coax from you. For Clark, the real reward wasn’t just in soothing your aches—it was in seeing your face completely melt under his touch, your body reacting wantonly because you craved for more.
And with that, Clark went on to give you more. Knowing how sensitive your body’s condition was in the moment, he carefully pushed your legs up, his large hands stabilizing you by the thighs, and replaced the fill of his fingers with his inquisitive tongue.
Like his fingers, he started out slow and deliberate, tracing the swollen ring of muscle to sample the fresh layer of artificially-flavored lube dripping out of your hole. He licked you with a casual ease, but the look in his eyes was anything but.
“Smells like coconut,” you sniffled softly as he lifted his head to press a few kisses to your inner thighs. The warmth of his breath lingered on your skin, but your attention caught on the sticky sheen smeared across his cheek, a glistening trace of slick that made your cock twitch.
“Close… coconut cream pie. More vanilla than I was expecting, if I had to be honest…”
A tender smile curved your lips as your fingers found their way into his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingertips. You began to pet his head gingerly, your touch slow and soothing, grounding both of you in the moment.
“Love you.”
Clark leaned into your hand instinctively, a low hum of contentment rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut briefly, the tension in his broad shoulders melting under your touch, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away entirely.
“I love you too, (M/N).”
His gaze flicked to yours, a sudden spark of mischief between the blinds of his eyelashes, before he paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build, and kept a watchful eye on you while he slowly pushed out his spit to drizzle it over your wet hole.
Then, with agonizing precision, he pushed the remainder of the saliva into the center of your opening, the wet, methodical slck of the motion sending a jolt of heat down your spine.
“Fuck…” Your fingers curled into his hair until they were grasping, pushing him and his tongue deeper into you while simultaneously rutting your hips against him.
Clark was a hungry man. He made sure to clean up any traces of his spit and lube with that thick tongue of his, slurping the remnants before adding onto it again with a generous amount of spit. Every time you thought the trail of saliva was dripping dangerously close to the bed sheets, Clark’s intuition was strong enough to blindly guide him to the leak, deftly licking it back up and kissing your flesh in passing.
He would never waste a single drop.
A quiet, satisfied moan escaped him, low and drawn out, as if savoring the sweetness of the lube and your flesh was a private indulgence. His eyes never left yours as his nose rubbed at your taint in midst of his devouring, The smile that curled at his lips—glazed and glistening—was a challenge, a silent dare that made the air between you feel heavy.
Heavier, when he found the right rhythm of flicking his tongue to make your body writhe under him.
“Clark, please…” you whined, one hand massaging your loose balls while the other toyed with your nipple, pleasuring yourself not only to the sight of Clark indulging in the warmth and taste of your flesh, but also his naked torso.
His chest rose and fell steadily, each inhale making his broad shoulders flex, the faint sheen of sweat catching the light. The planes of his abdomen looked carved, every ridge and dip inviting your eyes to linger, compelling your cock to leak out of sheer astonishment.
His arms were just as mesmerizing—thick and powerful, with veins running along his forearms that seemed to pulse with quiet authority, especially so when he’d alternative between working your hole open with his fingers and tongue again.
The strength they promised wasn’t just physical but protective. Those arms of his were built to shield and hold you.
When he finally pulled away, his gaze lingered, watching as you panted breathlessly, your chest rising and falling, desperate for him to finish what he had so teasingly begun. The tension hung there, thick and electric, like the moment itself had slowed just for the two of you.
He took off the remainder of his clothes before sprawling himself over you, his broad frame hovering just above yours while you seized the opportunity to thank him of his service. Between gentle kisses that Clark needed to get out of his system before he would lose himself in your body, you generously applied a glorious amount of lube on his large cock, though not letting Clark’s kisses answer to nobody.
His muscles pressed gently against you, the solid strength of his chest rising and falling with each breath when you took a couple of moments to thoroughly layer him in slick—to silently appreciate him for his efforts in lifting your spirits throughout the week with firm strokes.
The weight of his cock in your hands was satisfying, hefty enough to make you pause and marvel at the sheer size of it. You couldn’t get used to it, nor did you want to.
“You comfortable? Need more pillows? Tell me if your body starts hurting, okay?” Clark asked, suppressing his moans by showering your neck and face in small, lithe kisses.
His hands roamed your body at their own free-will before they began fixating on your arms, where your goosebumps were discernible. His brows furrowed in concern.
“Little cold…” One arm looped around to caress Clark by the nape, holding his forehead flushed to your own, while your other hand continued to stroke him between your collective hip grinds. You shivered again, despite being nestled so close to him, the draft still biting at your skin.
“Give me a moment,” he murmured softly, the heat of his breath brushing your ear.
You looked up at him, puzzled, but before you could ask what he meant, Clark pulled back just slightly, enough to give himself space to move. Without a word, he began to shift, his body warm and powerful as he adjusted his position. A flicker of surprise passed through you when you saw the subtle concentration on his face, but before you could ask again, you felt it when he pressed himself on top of you again, lowering his hips.
Clark’s body temperature seemed to rise—slowly, but steadily, until you could feel a gentle heat radiating off him. It was as if he was adjusting his own internal warmth, shifting it just for you. Your eyes widened in disbelief, but the shiver running through your body eased, the cold gradually melting away as his warmth enveloped you.
“You should be good now,” he said, his voice low and calm while he pulled you back into his arms, his skin now perfectly heated against yours.
You nestled against him again, finally able to relax as the cold left you entirely. “Not even going to ask,” you graced him with a kiss, reaching between your pelvis and his to adjust his cock against your hole and nodded. “I’m good to go.”
“Love you so much…” He took you by the jaw and slotted his lips into yours once more, grounding the wavering of your breath with his protection before he pushed his hips forth.
“It’s so… big, C-Clark—“ you groaned, clenching your eyes shut through the bittersweet tension of his large cock opening you up.
Clark whispered several I know’s over your lips, a strong effort in placating the pain surging beneath you, while taking a few pauses for you to catch your breath, for Clark to catch his because—you were so tight.
"You're so tight..." Clark seemed to have admitted in a whisper without realizing.
You felt yourself swell within seconds, the crown of your insides clenching him and pushing him out all at the same time, but Clark remained resilient, pushing, and pushing, allowing you to feel the slow, deliberate pressure inside of you, until he was finally deeply rooted inside of you to the hilt, earning himself a deep guttural groan from you as a reward.
“You feel so good, baby. So, so good. Taking me so well…” He peppered your whimpers with soft kisses, his words soothing you as his boyish smile remained, warm and comforting, easing you with each gentle touch and praise.
“You’re so warm too…” you muttered into the palm of his hand, kissing him at the calloused skin before you returned back to his plush lips.
Your breath caught in your throat as you shifted, the feeling of being filled growing deeper, fuller with every inch of Clark’s large cock moving inside of you. Clark’s large palm rested on your stomach, caressing over the bulge that seemed to move in conjunction with his slow, methodical thrusts.
He had never mentioned it, but you knew it was a sight that he secretly loved. Clark's eyes softened with admiration as he watched, his gaze lingering on the subtle curve of your stomach. It was unmistakable, the way it had begun to gently bulge with every rut of his hips, becoming more prominent depending on the strength, the fullness a natural sign of the way your body had been affected by what you’d taken.
And what you had taken was Clark’s love and devotion to you—his thick cock making you gape and swell from beneath.
It wasn’t easy, not by any means, but there was an undeniable pull in watching your stomach swell from his cock—an almost desperate craving for the mixture of pain and pleasure, for the way it made your body react even though your mind wavered between wanting to resist and wanting to surrender completely.
He couldn’t help but marvel at it, his fingertips lightly grazing the curve, tracing its outline with a reverent touch. The way your body had responded to him, the way it molded to the shape of the intimate moment, filled him with a quiet awe. He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your skin, his voice low and hushed. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, a hint of wonder in his tone, as if he couldn’t quite believe the sight before him.
Clark was never one to boast, but in this moment, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes. He’d never been so proud of having someone like you—someone so determined—take all of his girth with such unwavering focus despite the tears in your eyes. Happy tears, to which he’d only create more of, when he gently pressed on the bulge in your stomach and sandwiched his cock within your insides, plunging himself deep inside of you until the only sounds that came out of your throat were guttural.
“C-Clark—oh, god…” your cock was dripping in pre-cum, throbbing to the weight of his cock hollowing you out as he sped up his hips and pushed you deeper into the bed on instinct. You held onto his muscular shoulders as he clutched onto your waist and rocked you back and forth along to his deep thrusts.
“God, I’m so deep inside of you. Is this okay, baby? Is it okay that I’m making love to you like this? I’m being selfish, aren’t I?”
“No-please! I l-love it so much, Clark. Fuck. Keep fucking me like that… wouldn’t want anything more—”
“Like this? You like how I’m so deep inside of you to the point where your tummy’s swelling? So… good. You look so good for me…”
His forehead connected to yours again, panting over your mouth and taking a moment to marvel over how he had rendered you speechless before he could muster up the energy to kiss you again, to draw out another sound from you with his tongue.
The warmth of his mouth was almost feverish, his breath mingling with yours in a tangled, wet dance. Each movement was smooth and sensual, your tongues exploring, tasting, tracing the contours of each other’s mouths with growing eagerness. The wetness of it—the gentle press of his lips, the slick glide of your tongues—made the kiss feel all the more intoxicating, as if every flick and sweep brought you deeper into him.
Clark’s body temperature only seemed to have gotten warmer, affecting you from the inside and out as his cock was synchronous.
You could feel Clark’s dick heat you up from the inside, seemingly softening your guts to make the ease of fully wrecking you all the more easier. With each kiss, praise, and thrust, your body melted further, feeling as soft and pliable as butter left out in the warmth. The tension in your muscles faded, replaced by a liquid sensation that spread through you, leaving you entirely at ease and whimpering in his hot embrace.
The faint sheen of sweat gave him an undeniable rawness, a physicality that made your heart race. You were mesmerized by the way it clung to him, the way the droplets caught the light before sliding slowly down his torso.
Each movement he made only seemed to draw you in more, the heat radiating from his body intensifying the pull you felt. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, infatuated not just by his strength, but by the way he looked so alive, so real—like the sweat was proof of his effort, his focus, and the raw intensity of how he was making love to you and that tantalizing hole of yours.
“You’re fucking me so good, Clark. I could come like this, baby—just like this…”
“And when you make a mess—not if, but when—I’ll treat you like the prince you are. I’ll clean you up with my mouth, let you watch me lick every drop away with my tongue, and then I’ll kiss you, giving you a taste of your love for me.”
His skin, damp with the effort of his keen need to wreck you, left a trail of warmth and moisture as he pounded you, a strong, animalistic friction that made every touch feel more intimate and passionate, that made the current position of him mounting you and bending your knees till they touched your chest despite your condition well worthwhile and all the more rewarding.
It was a sound that matched the intensity of the connection between you both—no words needed, just the symphony of his sweaty skin meeting yours, and his cock hollowing you out until you two had made a permanent imprint on the mattress.
Clark’s breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes soft and filled with admiration contrasting with his hardened thrusts. “You look so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “Just… so perfect.”
His hand moved to your stomach again, evidently in love with the way you swelled from his cock, the weight of the moment sinking in with the aid of the bed creaking, and Clark’s sweaty skin slapping against you.
Every word he spoke, every gentle press of his lips, seemed to soften you, coaxing out of the cold that had been restricting you. It was as though you were being molded by his touch, the heat of his affection spreading through your veins, leaving you pliant, relaxed, and willing to give yourself entirely to him.
All sensation coursing through you was a tangled mess of pleasure and overwhelming intensity. Your body was on the verge of unraveling with every deep thrust of Clark’s. You could feel him swell, veins throbbing inside of you, his balls twitching as he was nearing his high just as you were.
Your eyes fluttered closed, the edges of your vision blurring the harder he pounded into you like an animal, like he was beating away at your cold, and you could feel yourself slipping into a blissful madness.
It was almost too much, yet it felt like the most real thing you’d ever known. Your body trembled from the weight of his body on you, from the girth that Clark was destroying you open with. Every muscle was tight with anticipation, yet you managed to hold onto a smile, the corners of your lips twitching despite the storm raging inside you, your cock throbbing and leaking in overdrive in warning.
“C-Clark..!“
Your hands instinctively found their way around Clark's neck, pulling him closer as if to anchor yourself in the moment. The kiss you pressed against his lips was desperate, full of need and grounding, a silent plea for him to steady you in the chaos as your balls tightened up into your core.
With each breathless press of your mouth to his, you found a sliver of control, a tether to the reality of his presence, even as the pleasure threatened to send you into pure blissful madness.
“I know—me too—“
Your smile lingered, your mind teetered on the edge, savoring every second, every touch, every thrust, and every heartbeat that connected you both, until the very moment where Clark’s name slipped from your lips in a breathless gasp.
“Clark—“
The tension had reached its peak, and when it finally broke, it was like a wave crashing over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You came in a shared, fervent release. All muscles in your body was taut with desire, the culmination of your love for him unraveling in the form of thick white ropes shooting out of your cock, decorating your bulging stomach with layers upon layers, some splattering onto Clark’s body from the sheer amount of power and arousal.
Clark’s grip on you tightened, his body shuddering against yours as he gave into the same release, his breath ragged in the wake of it. His name left your lips in a soft, trembling sigh as he spilled his warm, thick seed deep inside of your raw hole. He left you breathless, thick, and steady, flooding you in ropes that seemed to never end. It was a powerful, consuming feeling, filling you completely, each pulse of his cock deep and unwavering, decorating your insides with a thickness that left you in awe of how much he had to give, like his body had held nothing back.
Your bodies moved together in those final moments, each thrust and touch sending shock waves through your system as Clark rode out his orgasm. You could feel every inch of him, raw and exposed. The warmth spread through you with each movement, the thick fluid of his cum filling you to the brim, a steady stream that didn’t seem to have an end leaking out of you that would surely have your flesh glued together with his.
Nothing else listed but the two of you—completely undone, unraveling together and leaving behind nothing but the sweet, tender echo of your love for each other.
The room was still, save for your breathing, as Clark’s forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath, tangled together in the beautiful, but sweaty aftermath.
“Are you… feeling better?”
His fingers traced along your skin, over the mess that you made of your stomach to let the sticky substance seep into his own palm, while he caught the remainder of his breath in the crook of your neck, fully collapsing on top of you.
“I…” You groaned, the lingering sensation of pleasure making it hard to find words. But despite the exhaustion, a sly smile tugged at your lips.
You rubbed his broad back in soothing circles, whispering in his ear, “I think I might need another prescription, Doctor.” Your voice was breathless, a mischievous glint in your eyes as the desire still simmered beneath the surface.
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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the-offside-rule · 2 months ago
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Lando Norris (McLaren) - Paddock Pup
Day 3 of Christmas
Prompt: New puppy
25 Days of Christmas
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Lando was practically buzzing with excitement as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. After three grueling weeks away, and that horrible race in Qatar to end it, he was finally home. Home to her. Y/n. His girlfriend who never failed to make him smile, even during the most exhausting moments.
As he opened the door, the familiar scent of their shared space welcomed him. But something else caught his attention—a large, neatly wrapped box sitting on the floor near the coffee table. His brows furrowed as he stepped inside. "Babe?" He called out, scanning the room. That’s when he noticed her phone propped up on a nearby shelf, its camera clearly recording. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as Y/n rounded the corner behind him. "What’s this? Are you pranking me again?" Y/n appeared, her grin wide and mischievous. "No prank this time, I promise." She said, though her tone betrayed her excitement. He pointed to the box. "Then what’s this about?"
"Just open it!" She urged, bouncing slightly on her toes. "Why do I feel like this is a trap?" Lando muttered, stepping closer to the box but hesitating. He crossed his arms, eyeing her. "You open it, and I’ll watch." Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Fine. But you’re missing out." She knelt beside the box, carefully peeling back the tape. "I'm not missing out on anything I don’t-" Just as she lifted the lid, a tiny bark filled the room. Lando froze, his eyes widening as the realization hit him. "You did not." He whispered, practically shoving her aside to get a better view.
Inside the box sat the fluffiest black-and-white puppy, its tiny tail wagging furiously. Lando’s jaw dropped as he reached in, carefully scooping up the small dog. "Oh my god!" He breathed, holding the puppy close to his chest. His voice softened as he spoke to the pup. "Hi there, little one. Where did you come from, huh?" Y/n watched with a fond smile as Lando’s usual cool demeanor melted into pure adoration. He turned to her phone, holding the puppy up for the camera. "Look at this! A puppy! Y/n got me a puppy!"
"What do you think?" Y/n asked, her arms crossed as she leaned against the sofa. "Oh I love her." Lando said immediately, his grin so wide it could rival the sun. "What’s her name?"
"Oreo." She replied, giggling as Lando mouthed the name back over how cute it was. "Because of her black and white fur."
"Oreo? She's so-" Lando repeated, testing the name as he cradled the puppy in his arms. "It’s perfect." Then, as if remembering something, he looked back at her with a puzzled expression. "Wait, what are we going to do with her? We’re leaving for Abu Dhabi tomorrow. What are we gonna do with her?" Y/n’s grin widened. "Don’t worry. I got her a puppy passport, and I already booked my seat to include a dog." Lando’s mouth fell open. "You’re kidding." She shook her head. "I planned everything while you were in Qatar. She’s all set to travel with us."
Lando let out a squeal, his excitement manifesting in little kicks. "You’re the best. Like, actually the best." He turned back to Oreo, lifting the pup into the air. "Paddock pup!" Y/n laughed, sitting beside him as Lando continued gushing over the puppy. "Was it a nice prank?" She asked. "Oh the best ever. Thanks for the early Christmas present."
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little-jana · 1 month ago
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"Christmas With The Hotchner Boys"
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: kissing, mentions of being alone, being called a "good girl", Jack being the cutest little Christmas elf
Words: 1.65k
Summary: Nobody should be alone on Christmas, the Hotchners make sure of that!
a/n: This is for anyone that feels lonely during the holidays! Merry Christmas! xo
Christmas wasn’t supposed to feel this lonely.
I stared at the blinking lights of my tiny tree, tucked into the corner of my living room. The scent of pine lingered faintly, but the holiday spirit hadn’t quite settled over me. It was my first Christmas in years spent away from my family, a choice born out of necessity rather than desire. A looming work deadline and a snowstorm that canceled flights had left me here—alone, or so I thought.
My phone buzzed on the counter, drawing me out of my thoughts.
Hotch.
Seeing his name flash on my screen made my heart flutter, a reaction I’d grown used to over the months. Aaron Hotchner had a way of showing up exactly when I needed him, even if he didn’t realize it.
I picked up the phone, trying to keep my voice steady. “Hotch, hey. What’s up?”
“Hi,” he said, his deep voice warm and familiar. “I just wanted to check in. I know you said you weren’t going home for Christmas. How are you holding up?”
I smiled softly, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m fine. Just a little... quiet around here.”
There was a pause, the kind of comfortable silence I’d grown to appreciate with him. “I thought that might be the case,” he said finally. “That’s why I’m outside your building.”
I blinked, certain I’d misheard him. “You’re... what?”
“Outside,” he repeated, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Can you buzz me in?”
I hurried to the intercom, my heart pounding as I pressed the button. A few moments later, there was a soft knock at my door.
When I opened it, there he was, standing in the hallway with a small wrapped package in one hand and a faint smile on his face. But he wasn’t alone.
“Hi,” he said, stepping inside with Jack close behind him, clutching a box of cookies.
“Hi,” I said, my eyes flicking between the two of them. “What are you... what are you doing here?”
“Well, Jack and I were making cookies, and we realized we might’ve made too many,” Aaron said, his tone so casual it almost made me laugh. “And I didn’t want you to spend Christmas Eve alone.”
Jack grinned up at me, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Dad said we should come over because Christmas is better with friends.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat as I knelt down to Jack’s level. “Is that so?”
He nodded earnestly. “And we brought the good cookies! Not the burnt ones.”
I laughed softly, ruffling his hair. “Well, thank you for sharing. I’m honored.”
Aaron cleared his throat, holding out the wrapped package. “And this is for you.”
I took it carefully, my fingers brushing against his for a brief moment. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” he said simply.
I unwrapped the package slowly, revealing a leather-bound journal with a sleek, elegant design. It was beautiful, thoughtful, and so unmistakably him.
“You mentioned wanting to start journaling,” he said, almost shyly. “I thought this might help.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away quickly. “Aaron, this is perfect. Thank you.”
Jack tugged on my sleeve, holding up the box. “Do you have a tree? We could put cookies under it for Santa.”
I glanced at Aaron, who gave me a small shrug and a smile. “What do you think?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I said, leading Jack into the living room where my modest little tree stood.
Jack immediately set to work arranging cookies on a plate while I grabbed mugs for hot chocolate. Aaron followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I worked.
“You really didn’t have to do this,” I said, my voice soft.
He shrugged, his gaze warm and steady. “It didn’t feel right, leaving you alone tonight.”
“Still,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Thank you. It means a lot.”
He smiled then, that rare, genuine smile that made my heart ache in the best way. “You don’t have to thank me.”
When we returned to the living room, Jack was carefully inspecting the tree, his head tilted as he studied the decorations.
“It’s pretty,” he said, turning to me with a grin. “But it needs one more thing.”
“Oh?” I asked, crouching down beside him. “What’s that?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small star ornament, holding it up proudly. “We made this at school. Can I put it on?”
“Of course,” I said, helping him find the perfect spot near the top.
As Jack admired his handiwork, Aaron stepped closer, his arm brushing against mine. The warmth of his presence was grounding, and I felt myself relax in a way I hadn’t all night.
“Looks perfect,” Aaron said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
I turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of us. His eyes were soft, full of something unspoken, and the air between us felt charged in a way that made my pulse quicken.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.
His hand brushed against mine, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down my spine. “Merry Christmas,” he said, his tone warm and intimate.
Jack’s voice broke the moment, calling out from across the room. “Can we watch a movie?”
Aaron chuckled, stepping back. “What do you think?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I said, my voice steadier now.
We spent the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, Jack nestled between us as we watched his favorite Christmas movie. His laughter filled the room, and for the first time in days, I felt a true sense of peace.
When the movie ended, Jack had fallen asleep, his head resting against Aaron’s shoulder. I helped Aaron tuck him into the spare bedroom, and as we stood in the doorway, watching Jack sleep, I felt a wave of emotion I couldn’t quite put into words.
“He’s amazing,” I said softly.
Aaron nodded, his expression tender as he looked at his son. “He is.”
We returned to the living room, and as I started tidying up, Aaron caught my wrist, stopping me.
“Leave it,” he said, his voice low.
I turned to face him, my breath catching at the intensity in his eyes.
“Aaron...”
He stepped closer, his hand still holding mine. “You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not used to... this.”
“Letting someone in?” he asked, his tone gentle but firm.
I nodded, unable to find the words.
He smiled softly, his other hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from my face. “You’re doing a good job,” he murmured. “Better than you realize.”
The warmth in his voice made my chest tighten, and I felt my cheeks heat.
“Good girl,” he said, his thumb brushing against my cheek.
The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I felt my knees go weak. His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering, and I realized there was no hiding how much those words affected me.
“Aaron,” I whispered, my voice shaky.
He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I reached up, wrapping my arms around him. His embrace was strong, reassuring, and I felt myself relax against him completely.
“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.
“Merry Christmas,” I said softly, my heart full to bursting.
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reimaybe · 1 month ago
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🎧: paper rings — taylor swift
“i could never marry someone who doesn’t like dogs,” you spoke casually as your fingers spammed random keys while playing some random obby on roblox. yoichi, whose head was resting lazily on your shoulder, barely reacted; still half-lost in exhaustion from his last match.
“what if they’re allergic?” he mumbled.
“you’re not allergic to dogs,” you replied, glancing at him briefly before focusing back on the screen.
truthfully, yoichi hadn’t fully processed what you were saying, too tired to connect the dots. but when you paused the game and turned to him with a slight pout, he blinked, processing what you had said earlier.
“oh! i get it,” he said, a laugh escaping his lips as the pieces clicked.
you rolled your eyes, pushing him lightly. “okay, whatever, yoichi. get off me.”
you bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile—you were supposed to be sulking, after all—but the way his laugh grew louder made it impossible.
“alright, my turn to say something random,” he said, pulling you closer despite your half-hearted protests.
“will you marry me?,” he asked, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
“with what, paper rings? cut the crap.” you scoffed, hoping that he wouldn't notice the way your ears were flushed red.
his eyes lit up as he glanced around your dorm, spotting a pile of papers in the corner. “do you want to?”
you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound filling the small room and making his smile widen. “let me finish college first, yoichi.”
“deal,” he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your temple. “but after that, i’m holding you to it.”
years later, yoichi still finds himself smiling at the memory. it had been three years since you graduated college, and today was the championship match for the world cup–a long time dream of his, and with you by his side every step of the way.
after a hard-fought battle, the final whistle blew, and victory was theirs. as the crowd erupted in cheers, yoichi searched for you, his heart racing. when he finally spotted your teary-eyed face, all the pressure lifted from his shoulders.
without a word, you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder as cameras flashed, reporters rushed towards you two, and the field erupted in cheers.
still holding you tightly, yoichi whispered, “there’s something i need to ask you.”
your brow furrowed with curiosity as he knelt on the grass, pulling out a small velvet box. “remember when we joked about getting married?” he said, a smile breaking across his face.
your hands flew to your mouth in shock, and your eyes widened, the moment feeling surreal.
“will you marry me?”
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leonastarry · 26 days ago
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{ 6 } Special. ✧. ┊ s.jinwoo x fem!reader
Jinwoo loves you so much.
From childhood sweethearts, now the two of you have become husband and wife. It's been a long process, but it's truly precious.
✧˖*°࿐
Jinwoo met you when we were both 4 years old. At that time, your family had just moved to Seoul and rented an apartment near his. Your mother took you to his house to get to know the neighbors. You were small and shy, hiding behind your mother's legs. He found you very cute. His mother patted his shoulder and told him to go out with you, he nodded and approached you.
"Hello, I'm Sung Jinwoo."
"[N-Name].."
✧˖*°࿐
The first time he realized he loved you was when he was 17 years old. His teenage years were not a beautiful time. He was bullied and teased because he was weak. Until one day, you ran up to him and protected him from those bullies, he felt his heart flutter. The image of you standing in front of him, against the sunlight, made you seem to have a halo. The way you stood firmly and resolutely made him surprised and admired.
"Jinwoo, don't worry, I will protect you!"
✧˖*°࿐
When Jinwoo became a hunter, hardships piled up, you were the one who was always by his side and supported him. Even though he was a weak E-rank hunter, you always showed him that he was also very strong, and you admired him very much. When he became an S-rank, you were the shoulder for him to lean on when he was tired, when he felt his heart needed to be comforted and his mind needed to rest.
You would hug him tightly, stroke his hair, draw circles on his back. You would kiss his forehead, the corners of his eyes, his hair lovingly. And the two of you would just lie on the bed and enjoy each other's warm embrace, everything outside the world just being ignored.
"I love you so much."
✧˖*°࿐
When he used the reincarnation cup, after 27 years of fighting, the first person he looked for after returning was you. He hugged you tightly and buried his face in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent, the scent he missed so much. He would let you scold him for leaving for 2 years, but he would just look at you and smile.
'It's great that I'm back, it's great that I can see you again, [Name]'
✧˖*°࿐
Jinwoo proposed to you when he was 27. That day, the two of you had a wonderful summer date. In the morning, he woke up together, cooked breakfast for you, and went shopping together. In the afternoon, he and you went to the cinema together, you were engrossed in watching the movie, he looked at you. In the evening, the two of you had a delicious dinner at a fancy restaurant, then he took you to see fireworks.
In the moment when the dots of light flew up and shone brightly in the dark sky, he looked at you and said.
"You know, for me, family love is the most sacred love. And you, who have been with me all these years, I also want to share that same sacred love."
He took a red velvet box from his pocket and knelt down.
"[Name], you are the love, the light of my life. I am forever grateful to have you by my side. So I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
He opened the ring box.
"Will you allow me to be family with you?"
✧˖*°࿐
When he saw you in your pure white wedding dress, he couldn't help but feel emotional. He felt his eyes well up with tears. After all these years, the day had finally come when he could call you his wife, and he would be the only man for you.
He held your hand tightly.
"I stand here today, before you, our family, and our friends, with a heart full of love and faith. I promise to always be your faithful companion, your loving partner through all the joys and challenges. I promise to respect, listen, and support you on every journey we will take together. I promise to love you for the rest of my life."
✧˖*°࿐
And then the two of you had your first son, a clone of Jinwoo. And five years later, you and Jinwoo welcomed another little princess. The whole family lived happily together. A complete family, you, your husband, your two beloved children, and Jinwoo's shadow soldiers, you couldn't ask for anything more.
Jinwoo and you went, time passed, wrinkles appeared on you and Jinwoo. But the love you two had for each other did not fade.
On your 15th wedding anniversary, standing on Kaisel's back, Jinwoo gave you a sparkling necklace. He put it around your neck and leaned down to press his lips against yours for a long time.
"Wife, you go home first, I still have things to do."
"Will you come back for me?"
"Always."
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My back hurts 😥😥.
School really ruined me 😭😭
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haikyu-mp4 · 2 months ago
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Suspected proposal
"Did you hear about Sakusa? He proposed to his long-term girlfriend today! But I’m not judging or anything!" – @kittygirl11829 for my Gossip Event.
word count; 834 – f!reader
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The first one to become suspicious of a possible proposal was Hinata. He just so happened to look over Sakusa’s shoulder while the black-haired man looked at diamond rings on his phone. Unfortunately, he had switched it off the second he realised he wasn’t alone, and not another word was spoken about it.
Atsumu was next because of a certain look on Sakusa’s face as of late. It made him look restless, which wasn’t normal for him. It wasn’t that he didn’t focus on practices anymore, but something else seemed to be on his mind as well.
Bokuto didn’t really put two and two together himself, but when Atsumu brought up his information, the owl shared that he had seen Sakusa at the jeweller the week before, and he couldn’t believe he didn’t say hi!
No doubt, Sakusa would be proposing to his girlfriend. 
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You’ve been dating Sakusa for a long time, ever since your first year of university. This means you also developed close friendships with all of your boyfriend’s friends. Therefore, the three suspicious MSBY boys snuck up to Sakusa after practice one day (meaning they ran over and cornered him so he couldn’t run away) with the wish to participate in making you say yes. 
“Are you proposing to y/n?” Atsumu and Hinata asked him, just like they rehearsed, however-
“CAN WE HELP WITH THE PROPOSAL?” Bokuto was practically bouncing with excitement.
Atsumu turned to him with a frown. “I thought we agreed to be demure and mindful.”
Sakusa rolled his eyes and sighed, unsure if he was ready for his own answer. “I would like your help with my proposal.”
The three were silenced as they looked at Sakusa in surprise, making him squirm under their gazes.
“You asked.”
Hinata was the first to recover. “What do you need?”
Sakusa smiled, not big but it was definitely something. “I know she’d love to have different angles to choose from for the proposal video. Can you three spread out and film it?”
In near-perfect sync, the three volleyball players clicked their heels together and saluted him. “Sir, yes sir!”
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You had no idea Sakusa wanted to propose to you today. It wasn’t uncommon for him to invite you to a fancy restaurant, asking you to dress up with him and take some time off to just be together and have good food.
This time shouldn’t have been any different.
The only peculiar thing was the head of bright orange hair that almost blended in with the flower arrangements. And the grey hair that zoomed past the window earlier before someone in a hoodie and black mask asked for a table. And the bleach blonde hair peeking out from that guy in the corner’s cap while he played on his phone without ordering any food.
Why are Sakusa’s friends here?
Still, no matter how suspicious you were, you gasped in shock when Sakusa got out of his chair and knelt beside you on one knee, holding up a little velvet box with a gorgeous ring. Your eyes brimmed with happy tears as he nervously recited his speech.
“You are already such an integral part of my life. You make every day better, and I want to spend every moment with you by my side. I want to call you my wife, or fiancé for now. You mean more to me than life itself and I will dedicate every second of the rest of my life to making you happy if you would do me the honour of marrying me.”
You were breathless, barely remembering that you should probably answer him.
“Yes! I’ll marry you, I’ll marry you a thousand times!”
The whole restaurant erupted in cheers, and the loudest was from your three dear friends (who were clearly more used to standing out in a crowd than hiding in it, which should become a funny story for the future).
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w: this last part is suggestive
After making your way home, nothing could keep your hands off each other. That dedication for the rest of his life started right now as he took his sweet time decorating your skin in sensual kisses, lifting your arm so he could trail them all the way to your new ring.
“Sakusa y/n.”
“I think I doodled that in my notebook once,” you purred, thinking back to the days when you stared at the back of his head in class.
“You have bewitched me,” he accused with a dopey smile, hands sneaking around you to unzip your dress.
“Body and soul,” you whispered before once again capturing his lips in a kiss.
Bokuto, Hinata and Atsumu totally misread the situation, and realised so as they came up to your house door and heard you moaning Sakusa’s name a little too loud for it to be anything other than…“Let’s drink at mine instead,” Atsumu announced, already turning around and rushing off, careful with the six-pack of beer he carried in each hand. You would be having a private celebration for now.
masterlist
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honeylullaby · 3 months ago
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“Just breathe with me, darling.
(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader
Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 I hope this was what you envisioned! / Rupert calms you down after a panic attack. Anxiety warning.
18+ FANFIC / Soft. Not too long but as always, got carried away! Reader character aged 21.
As always, request what you wanna see on my ask box 💋
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Incessantly tapping the edge of your pen against your desk, the skin of your lip peeled under your canine as you anxiously chewed at the corners of your mouth. It was 4pm, and you had turned your production notes into Tony Baddingham’s office precisely 24 minutes ago for his approval. At the moment, work was hard. Tony did his absolute best to berate, humiliate and insult you. All because you and Rupert Campbell-Black had made yourselves official and the whole office was astutely aware that they despised each other.
Taking a quick glance over at his office, you caught a glimpse of your superior pacing up and down his office, flicking nonchalantly through your notes, not quite taking them in and not at all caring. Your vision went black as a pair of rugged hands covered your eyes. Breathing in, your mind immediately calmed — You recognised that sweet, aromatic aftershave from anywhere. “Guess who?” The opulent, inebriating voice sounded from behind you. You couldn’t help but grin and spin round in your chair as the hands removed themselves from your eyeline. Rupert, smartly clad in his hunting gear, was holding the most tremendous bouquet of flowers one had ever seen — lavish bunches of roses, lavender, and peonies. An exquisite array of colours and the most stunning fragrance. “Rupert! You shouldn’t have!” You burst with glee, standing up and throwing your arms around his neck, embracing him and pinning yourself to him tightly. The grin plastered across his jaws was unlike Rupert — a pure, genuine display of joy. You had really got under his skin, for the better.
“I was passing on my way to the hunt. I thought you could do with cheering up, I know that miserable bastard has been getting on your nerves as of late.” He muttered the last part, and shot you a wink. Rupert wasn’t passing — in fact, the florist was precisely 15 minutes away from the location of the hunt, and Corinium’s office was 26. He just couldn’t resist seeing that beaming smile on your face. From his office, Lord Baddingham had been keeping a firm eye on you both, and swung his door wide open. “What are you doing here? Who let you in? Get out.” The erratic man spoke, pointed finger waving brutishly at Rupert. Your lover jokingly threw his hands up in defeat, and took a step back from your desk. “I’m going, I’m going.” He spun around on his heel to leave, but quickly turned back. “Just quickly, Tony, how are your ratings doing since Declan left? I heard from a certain insider that they are absolutely tanking.” A devilish grin painted Rupert’s face as he spoke, he knew exactly which buttons to press of Tony to make him explode. Tony’s face grew a remarkable crimson shade, and you could almost physically see the steam rush to escape his ears. “Get the FUCK out of here, you cunt! You and your fucking whore! You’re SACKED!” Spit flew from the corners of Tony’s enraged mouth, fists clenching so tight his nails were drawing blood from his palms.
Despite sitting in a web of his own making, the red mist subsequently descended over Rupert and he raised his own clenched first to swing a punch. Except, he would have done, had he not first heard frantic hyperventilating from the seat beneath him. You threw an outstretched palm across your chest — trying to calm your breathing. But, it was futile. You felt your throat constrict and your vision tunnel in. Tony, along with everyone else in the office, watched in stunned silence as your panic attack tightened its cruel vice over your body. Rupert, however, immediately knelt beside you and pushed your chin upwards with a curled finger. “Hey, hey, angel. Breathe. Just breathe with me, darling.”
Rupert kept his distance at first, not wanting to constrict you anymore than you already felt. Instead, he maintained constant eye contact and took slow, calm deep breaths whilst facing you, urging you to do the same. God, this man could fix anything. Steadily, Rupert took a hold of your hand and placed it over his heart— allowing you to feel the rhythmic thumping and encouraging your own to fall into the same beat. Wiping tears away with your other hand, you took a trembling exhale and allowed yourself to take a moment of calm. Shooting Tony a menacing glare, Rupert lowered himself again and directed your gaze towards him. “I’m here, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
That was enough to coax inconsolable sobs from you. Safety and protection was all you craved, and Rupert certainly gave it to you. Practically falling into his arms, he allowed you to sob into his shoulder. His warmth had a vice-like grip over you — unwavering and shielding you from the world. His veined hand stroked through your hair softly as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. “Don’t do this to me again, darling. You know I’m always here. You’re safe with me, beautiful.”
He pulled you from your chair with the strength of one arm, and tucked you closely into his side, simultaneously picking your bouquet up with the others. “Come on, angel. Let’s get you home.” He muttered, and you gently nodded your head in agreement, allowing your body weight to melt into his. As he beckoned you away from your desk, he shot one last look at Tony — he was never going to forget this.
“Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.” - Jane Eyre
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monster-disaster · 5 months ago
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Hi darling, i see you have some somnophilia works.. May i sprinkle my current hyperfixation in? You have a stalker vampire who lives in your attic and feeds at night, either on you or goes out in the neighborhood. You start to have a sneaking suspicion you're being watched until you catch him. He can turn into a bat and creep through the attic door to get inside easily... He falls in love with you when you're up late singing, drawing, and cooking/showering. Um... And maybe he can see you in the shower through a vent in the ceiling 🫣 thank you i love your writing mwah
vampire!stalker x human!Reader Good to know: stalking
And you know what the funny thing is? You were the one who put him in your attic one morning when you were just about to get into your car and leave. By sheer luck, you happened to notice him curled up under your car, right behind one of the front wheels.
"Oh," you gasped at the sight. "You poor thing." Without thinking, you knelt beside the car, your heart softening as you took in the little creature’s vulnerable form. He looked so fragile, so out of place in the daylight. You extended a cautious hand, murmuring soothing words as you gently scooped him up. His small body was colder than you expected, but for a moment, he seemed to settle into your palm, as if relieved to be found. “You don’t have much survival skill, do you?” The thought of what might have happened if you hadn’t noticed him made you shudder. “You’re lucky I didn’t drive over you. But don’t worry, I know just the place where you’ll be safe.” Cradling him close, you turned back toward the house. You moved through the familiar hallway, your footsteps soft on the wooden floor as you made your way to the attic. The space was rarely used, cluttered with old memories and forgotten things, but it was quiet and safe, perfect for a little bat in need of shelter. “You’ll be safe here until it gets dark,” you murmured as you set him down in a cozy corner, carefully lining it with the soft fabric from an old box that had seen better days. You could feel the cool air of the attic as you moved, and after a moment’s hesitation, you left the window slightly open, just enough to give him a way out whenever he felt ready. You watched him for a few seconds longer, making sure he was comfortable, before closing the attic door with a quiet click. Two days passed before he crossed your mind again, but when you pushed open the attic door, the corner where you’d left him was empty.
You hoped the small animal was fine, but you had no idea that your story with him was far from over. At first, he genuinely wanted to stay away, but you lingered so vividly in his memory that he couldn't keep himself from returning. At first, he stayed only in your attic, listening to the sounds of your life around the house.
Your house was old, with creaking floorboards and doors that groaned on their hinges. The attic was dim and dusty, cobwebs stretching across the corners. The only light came through the window, filtering the moon’s glow into pale patches and deep shadows on the ground. He had spent countless nights here over the past few weeks, silently observing as the house lived and breathed around him, while he remained still and unseen in the darkness. Below, a door closed softly, followed by the gentle padding of footsteps across the floor. He tilted his head slightly, listening to you move through the house. You were humming a tune you'd recently heard on the radio. A soft, quiet sound that carried through the otherwise still air. He heard your steps as you climbed the stairs, and moments later, music began to drift upward through the floorboards. It was upbeat, with a woman’s voice accompanied by a guitar keeping the rhythm. The vampire shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the thick layer of dust on the floor. You had no idea he was there, and he preferred it that way. He took pleasure in your unawareness. Next, the steady sound of water pattering against tile reached his ears as you stepped into the shower, still humming and singing softly to yourself. For a long second, the dark wall in front of him disappeared as he imagined you in the bathroom with your head slightly tilted back as you washed down the shampoo. The white suds of the soap gently slipped down on your bare body, following the lines of your curves. He had to force himself to stay still. Soon, the water stopped, and after a few moments, he heard the soft slap of your bare feet on the bathroom tiles, and then on the hallway floor. He could smell the fresh, clean scent of your shampoo and lotions drifting into his sensitive nose. Quickly, you returned to your bedroom, the music still playing softly in the background. There was a pause as you opened your wardrobe and pulled out a drawer, followed by the rustling of fabric as you dressed in something comfortable and warm. Now, he could hear your breathing and the steady beat of your heart, which seemed to align with the music. Your room was just below the attic. So close. You sighed softly, and he imagined you sinking into the bed. The old springs of the mattress groaned under your weight. He stayed all night, hidden in the shadows. After all, he had all the time in the world.
Of course, his need to get closer to you, to see you, grew over time. After a few months, hiding in your attic wasn't enough anymore, and he became bolder. At first, he came out only after you had fallen asleep.
The night was still as the vampire silently came down from the attic, making his way straight to your room. The old house seemed to hold its breath as he moved, careful not to disturb the quiet of your home. The faint, lingering scent of your recent shower still hung in the air, mingling with the cool night breeze that slipped through the cracks. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a faint, silvery glow over your sleeping form. Your breathing was slow and even. You were blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked so close. He could easily reach out and touch you if he wished, and the thought sent a thrill through him. He stood by your bedside for a long moment, his gaze tracing the soft lines of your face, the fluttering of your lashes as you dreamed, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest. His fingertips tingled with the urge to reach out, just for a second, just to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his touch. There was something calming about you, something that eased the centuries-old hunger that gnawed at him. The memory of you holding his bat form so carefully and softly was vivid in his memory. Your palms were warm around his small body as your chest vibrated with every word you said to keep him calm. Almost without thinking, his hand moved, brushing over the line of your jaw from your ear to your chin. His touch was feather-light, barely a whisper against your skin, but the sensation sent a shiver through him. You were so warm, so alive. You stirred slightly, your body shifting beneath the covers, but you did not wake. The vampire froze, his hand lingering for a moment longer, savoring the contact, before he slowly drew it back. His fingers curled into a tight fist as he kept himself from reaching out again. He remained there for a few minutes, motionless, watching as you settled back into your dreams, completely unaware of the dark figure standing guard over you. He wanted to stay, to linger by your side until the first light of dawn, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. Not yet. With a final, reluctant glance, he began to retreat, slipping back into the shadows where he belonged. But he would return. He was certain of that.
It didn't take long for him to crave more. Soon, seeing you asleep wasn't enough.
The door of your bathroom was ajar, just enough for him to peer inside without being noticed. Steam curled out from the small gap, warm and fragrant, carrying the scent of your soap and shampoo into the cool air. It filled his nostrils as he edged closer without a sound. You stood under the spray, your head tilted back, eyes closed as the water cascaded over your body. The droplets caught in your hair and ran down your skin, glistening like tiny diamonds in the dim light. He watched, transfixed, as you moved beneath the stream. Your hands glided through your hair and over your body. There was something almost hypnotic in the rhythm of your movements, in the way you seemed so completely at ease, so unaware of the eyes that lingered on you from the shadows. He knew he shouldn’t be here, knew this was a line he had never intended to cross. But the allure of your presence, the simple beauty of you, was too much to resist. He felt a strange mix of hunger and something softer, something like longing, as he watched the water trace the contours of your body. His fingertips tingled with the image of your warm skin underneath his touch. For a brief moment, your eyes flicked open, and he held his breath, though he knew you couldn’t see him. You looked toward the door, a vague sense of something stirring in your gaze, but then you blinked and turned back to the water, shaking off whatever fleeting thought had crossed your mind. The vampire exhaled silently with relief. The brief moment of contact, of almost being caught, sent a thrill through him. He took one last lingering look at you, committing every detail to memory; the curve of your neck, the straight line of your spine, and the softness of your thighs. And then, as quietly as he had come, he slipped back into the shadows. The image of you under the shower would stay with him, a vivid memory to savor during the long hours of daylight.
Soon, his visits began to feel like a dance. He moved in perfect sync with you through the house. When you entered a room, he slipped into the shadows, always just out of sight, careful to remain unseen. He knew the rhythm of your nights, the way you moved from room to room, the way you lingered by the window or paused to turn off a light. But as the nights went on, something stirred within you; a suspicion that someone was there, watching, staying just out of your way but never leaving.
The kitchen was warm, filled with the scent of onions sizzling in the pan. You moved methodically, chopping vegetables and stirring sauces, trying to focus on the simple task of making dinner. The rhythm of cooking usually soothed you, but tonight, something was off. The feeling had been creeping up on you all evening, a persistent, unsettling sense that you weren’t alone. It gnawed at the edge of your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. The house was quiet, too quiet, and every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind outside, seemed loud in the stillness. You paused for a moment, the knife hovering above the cutting board, and glanced around the kitchen. The lights cast long shadows across the floor, stretching into the corners where the darkness lingered. You told yourself it was nothing, just your imagination running wild, but the hairs on the back of your neck refused to settle down. As you returned to your cooking, your movements became more hurried, more anxious. The feeling of being watched grew stronger. You tried to shake it off, focusing on the task at hand, but your mind kept drifting away from your dinner. Finally, you set the knife down with your heart beating faster than it should. You turned slowly, scanning the room, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of something, or someone, in the shadows, but there was nothing, just the empty kitchen and the low hum of the refrigerator. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the unease remained. The feeling of eyes on you, of someone lurking just out of sight, was too strong to ignore. Every movement you spent in the kitchen, or anywhere in the house was accompanied by the prickling sensation that you weren’t as alone as you thought.
As your suspicion grew and fear settled into your home, the vampire's feelings deepened. What had begun as a mere fascination had slowly morphed into something more serious, something he could no longer ignore.
The night was crisp and quiet, with only the distant hum of the city breaking the stillness. The vampire stood outside your window, hidden in the darkness. His eyes were fixed on the warm glow spilling from inside your home. The curtains were partially drawn, just enough to reveal you sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and engrossed in the flickering screen of the TV. He had watched you countless times, seen you in every possible light and shadow, but tonight was different. The sight of you curled up in your cozy living room, lost in the world of your favorite show, stirred something within him that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. The way you snuggled into the blanket with a sigh that escaped your lips as you laughed at something on the screen moved something in him. It was all so intimate, so utterly human. His gaze softened, and he felt a pang of longing so intense it almost hurt. He watched the way your eyes danced with amusement, how your expressions changed with the flow of the story, and how you seemed to be completely at ease in your own world. It was in these small, everyday moments that turned his feelings into something more than fascination or obsession. He was in love with you. His heart, dead for a long time, ached with a longing he hadn’t known was possible. As he stood there, his thoughts raced. He had been drawn to you from the beginning, but now he realized it was more than mere curiosity or obsession. He had come to adore you even from afar. The way you lived your life, so genuine and unfiltered, made him yearn for things he had long forgotten. He imagined what it would be like to sit beside you, to be part of these simple moments that meant so much to him. The love he felt was both exhilarating and painful, a reminder of how far he was from the life he desired. The thought of revealing himself, of breaking through the barrier he had maintained for so long, seemed both a terrifying and exhilarating possibility, but he knew there was no way back. There was no way he could just walk away from you.
Watching you through the window, observing your life from the shadows only deepened his longing. He couldn’t go on like this. Being so close, yet so far wasn’t enough anymore.
You turned the corner with an eagerness in your chest to get inside your home and unwind after a long day at work. Your keys jingled in your hand as you approached your front door but before you could reach the stairs leading up onto your small porch, you noticed a figure standing in front of your neighbor's house. He was tall and impeccably dressed in a dark suit that seemed to absorb the lights of the streetlamps towering at the edge of the sidewalk. He was engrossed in a conversation with the elderly couple who lived next door. Their faces were lit with curiosity and welcome as they nodded at something the stranger said. As you drew closer, without your notice or permission, he turned to face you, and an unexpected chill rippled down your spine. His smile was disarmingly charming, but there was something about it that made you pause. In the dim glow of the street lights, you noticed the glint of his fangs, sharp and white. They caught the light in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Good evening,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting. “I’ve just moved into the house next door.” You blinked, momentarily speechless. “Oh, hello,” you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t realize the house was sold.” His smile widened, and he took a step closer, extending a hand. “Yes, it’s quite recent. I’m delighted to meet you. I’m afraid I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself to the neighbors before now.” You hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. His grip was firm but gentle, and his touch was unexpectedly cold. “I’m Y/N,” you said, trying to smile. Your throat felt dry and tight as you forced the words to roll off your tongue. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” “Thank you,” he said, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “I’ve heard good things about this area.” You glanced at the house he had just mentioned mostly so you had a reason to tear your gaze away from him. “Are you settled in?” “Almost,” The man replied. “Just a few more things to arrange. But I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable here.” The way he spoke, with an almost eerie calm and certainty, sent another shiver down your spine. “Well, if you need any help or information about the area, feel free to ask." You regretted your polite offer the moment it left your lips. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his smile never wavering. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll be sure to drop by soon. Have a lovely evening.” As you watched him turn back to the elderly couple, your heart was still racing. The encounter had left you with a sense of unease that you couldn’t quite shake but were too afraid to stay and look into it. You hurried inside, and after locking the door behind you, twice, you tried to push the strange meeting from your mind. It's fine, you thought. You just have a few difficult weeks behind you. But as you settled into your evening routine, the man's smile and those glistening fangs lingered in your thoughts, leaving you with a growing sense of curiosity and uncertainty about the new neighbor next door.
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on-a-lucky-tide · 5 months ago
Text
Nikolai proposes to Price.
cw: mention of past and present homophobia in Russia and the UK.
The rotor blades hadn't even stopped spinning when Nik clambered out of his cab, his hand fumbling through his pocket in search of that velvet box. The gravel of the broken tarmac scratched under the soles of his boots, his knee grazing through his jeans as it hit the ground.
He'd almost lost John.
Two meters between his head and a steel beam falling from a nearby building as an IED had detonated.
As the smoke had cleared, Nikolai had heard and felt nothing. Like someone had reached through his ribs and pulled his heart and lungs out. John Price had always seemed invincible, unstoppable, like a force of nature. But in those few moments when Nik had believed he had been killed, the reminder of John's mortality had stunned him cold. John was not immortal, not a god or a hurricane, but a human man; vulnerable, killable, and Nik's entire world.
Nik had only started breathing again when his helo had swung round and the downdraft had whisked the cover of smoke and ash away to reveal the captain hunkered down, Ghost's arm thrown across his shoulders, Gaz and Soap guarding the rear.
The lieutenant had regained consciousness on the flight home, his concussion slurring his speech, his arm broken, but he was alive. They were exhausted, slumped against each other as the danger receded and Nik carried them to safety. Soap helped his lieutenant out now, supporting his weight as they staggered over the tarmac with Gaz following, his head low.
It was in the gap between Task Force 141 and their captain that Nik knelt, his shaking hand clutching the box against his knee as the adrenalin caught up on him, his words stuck. He had planned this. A dinner at the nice steakhouse John had seen in town, and then a walk through one of the big parks to the lake where they had spent many a night fishing. There, Nik would have asked. No audience, no public display, just them in the peace.
Their love was private. Not because it was shameful, but because it was theirs. It was a place John could tentatively explore the parts he had buried to survive, and Nik could be himself without apology. They could discard their defences and show each other the soft underbelly they guarded so fiercely from others. The vulnerability, the intimacy that came with it, belonged to them and only them; one of the very few things that did.
But what if he never got the chance? What if John had died today? What if John died tomorrow? Or the next day? What if, what if. There was no waiting for them because there might be no tomorrow. They had to live here, now.
Price dropped onto the tarmac, pushing his M4 behind his back as he looked down with a quizzical expression. "Nik?"
Nik drew in a shaking breath, his gaze lingering in the smear of black ash and crust edging a cut on Price's face. He'd lost his boonie hat in the scramble to rescue his officer, so his scruffy brown hair and beard formed a wild mane around his head, framing those blue eyes that were all the brighter as they shone from the sweat and grime on his skin. Nik started talking without thinking. "Lyobit tebya - eto kak dishat… s toboi bremya ostanablibaetsya e ya shivu lish mnovyeiyami pyadom toboi..."
"I can't speak it that well yet, ya muppet, and my brain was just shook inside my skull like a maraca," John said, his voice gravelly and dry. The corners of his eyes crinkled in wry amusement, and Nik's heart ached. He lifted the box, his thumb sliding beneath the lid, and watched John's expression fade from amusement to shock.
"Ty vyydesh’ za menya?" Nik clenched his teeth, irritated at himself, but before he could open his mouth and find the English, John's hand slid over his and he dropped to his knees.
"What is this, Nik?" John croaked, those beautiful blue eyes that so reminded Nik of a summer sky over Kiev glistened.
"A promise," Nik replied. "A... plea."
John leaned forward and their foreheads met, his fingers tightened over the box and Nik felt the coarse material of John's gloves against his knuckles. His hand shook. He was keeping the ring covered, like it would vanish should he look at it, or believe for a single moment it was real.
They had talked so many times about their experiences as young men. In the early hours of the morning, when scotch and exhaustion had worn down their defences, the rawness and the hurt had surfaced. Nik, who had hidden what he was lest he face a bullet or prison, acknowledging his very existence criminalised even now; John, who had grown under Section 28, made to feel degenerate and filthy, his lack of worth reinforced by a slighted father's retribution.
Never for a moment had those boys dreamed of a happy ever after, and both had fled into the arms of violence and bloodshed to lose themselves. Both had tucked their hearts away and buried their dreams until they existed only as dogs of war; weapons of the states that had failed them.
And now there it was. Represented as a single tungsten ring with a thread of vibrant blue in the metal. Like his eyes, Nik had thought as he had purchased it.
They shared the same quivering breaths, the promise clasped between their palms, and Nik watched as the low light of dawn caught the first tear as it escaped. Those soulful eyes closing as John caught himself. Nik stroked his cheek with his free hand, thumb brushing through the tear track. "You own me, body, heart and soul. I only ask for your hand in return," Nik whispered, so very meek compared to what he had imagined.
John threw himself forward and Nik caught him, wrapping his arms around his back as John's face pressed into his neck. He smelled of char and blood, sweat and pain, and Nik held him as he sought strength and stability. There were injuries beneath the Kevlar and padding of John's body armour, and Nik would care for him tonight no matter his answer. They had lost men today and John would need convincing to rest before he embarked on the sombre task of informing their families.
When John sat back on his heels, he sniffed, wiped his nose and face on the back of his wrist and then uncovered the ring in Nik's palm. "S'nice," he said, soft and boyish despite the gruff rasp of his voice. Nik could see that young boy in John's eyes, still uncertain, still struggling to believe that someone would love him enough to want to spend the rest of their life at his side.
"Da," Nik said, "it suits you, no?"
"I like it."
"I am glad."
John smiled, the lines at his eyes returning and making Nik's heart ache. "So this is for real, then."
"Da."
"For keeps?"
"For keeps," Nik said, running his thumb over the cool metal. He remembered fondly the first time John had asked him that. Many years ago, when they had only really just met, still circling, still probing tentatively lest they reveal their secret to someone who would react badly. He had offered John a cigar and John had stared at it suspiciously before asking the very same, and Nik had been endeared by it even then. Lieutenant Price had been even rougher around the edges than Captain Price. They had already done so much healing together.
John huffed a soft laugh, wiping at his eyes before glancing at the sky, and then back at Nik. "Yeah..." He cleared his throat, another sniff, "Nikolai, I want t'... bloody 'ell," he took a breath, "I want t' marry you. Yes, I... I'm sayin' yes."
Nik barked a laugh of relief and Price echoed it, watching as Nik ran a hand through his hair as his heart settled. John pulled at the velcro of his left glove with his teeth, tugging it off between his thighs so that Nik could slide the ring over his weathered knuckle. He pressed a kiss to John's open palm, nuzzling his face to it with a contented sigh.
John leaned to the side to see Soap and Gaz gasping at them from the edge of the tarmac. Ghost was, of course, unreadable, but Nik had already talked to him about his intention. Who did you ask for a man's hand in marriage when his father was unavailable? The loyal lieutenant that had fought at his side through the worst the world had to offer, of course. "The whole base will know by lunch," John muttered.
"Da. I... I am sorry. I could not wait any longer. For a while there, I thought I had watched you die."
John lifted Nik's chin and then gathered his hand to his chest. "Ay, I'm here, aren't I? We got home, we made it. Because of you, Nik."
Nik could only nod. There was no point thinking of next time, not when John knelt before him, battered but alive. "You need a medic."
"I need a shower..."
"Medic," Nik insisted. "And if you are a good boy and don't swear at the nurse, I will shower with you."
"Hmm," John smiled, bashful and soft, "seems a fair exchange."
Nik helped John to his feet. Now that the adrenalin had faded and his men were safe, John was limping, an arm folded across his torso. He submitted to inspection with only a minor grump, and then checked on Ghost, Soap and Gaz. They were sound, as John liked to say. Ghost had to stay the night and Soap remained in the chair at his side, but the nurse was happy John's sprains and cuts were manageable with a little support from Nik.
As they stood in the shower, Nik's lips on John's skin, his arms around his waist to hold his body close, Nik let the hot water disguise the tears running down his face. Happiness, relief; they were as heady and overwhelming as anger and sadness sometimes. Nik let himself feel it, knowing it would leave his mind clear for enjoying John later.
"You solid?" John asked, warm hands stroking down Nik's forearms.
"Never better, solnyshko."
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arcticwolf144 · 5 months ago
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A list of some things I noticed during the last matinee of Next to Normal UK
Diana pointed and yelled something from upstairs just before Natalie started singing for the first time. Like “wahey” sort of energy
She also absolutely bellowed “dive in with both feet” an inch from Dan’s face 
Diana was very insistent that Dan not touch her sandwiches. Kept waving him off
While Natalie was singing Everything Else Diana was peeling the crust off bread slices in time with the beat. I’ve never noticed that before so idk if it was a last day thing or if I’ve just missed it until now but it was very funny. 
Natalie looked like she was tearing up in Perfect for You. She was so happy and it was so cute 
Dan juggled three pieces of garlic bread during It’s Gonna Be Good lmao 
Natalie was so distressed during It’s Gonna Be Good. Like going “please get down!” when Diana climbed on the chair and flinching away from the water. She also mouthed “I’m so sorry” to Henry while everyone else was setting the table
I could hear her sobbing as she ran upstairs
Diana was mouthing “fuck off” to herself a lot while Dan was singing I Am the One.
When Diana started yelling Natalie covered her ears and she was sobbing so hard like the hardest I’ve ever seen someone cry on stage oh my god 
Gabe laughed when Natalie came down the stairs in Superboy 
Diana kept mouthing “shut up, shut the fuck up” when Gabe and Natalie started singing together
A lot of tears during Catch Me I’m Falling
Gabe was so horrified when he saw the blood during I’ve Been. Like he came on, knelt down on the stage and was just staring at the floor, at one point with his nose like inches from the stage. I’ve seen various interpretations but to me it always seems like he can’t quite understand what’s happened or how it’s got there. He knows he told Diana to join him but didn’t realise how violent that would be? Idk. But anyway then he curled against the counter crying and combine that with Jamie’s unbelievable acting through song and it was a hard watch
During the first verse of Wish I Were Here Natalie kept reaching for Diana
I think there was a muck up matinee prank happening in the wings on (the audience’s) left. As the island was spinning Trevor, Jack and Jamie seemed to notice something and were trying not to laugh. Like they’d look into the wings, smile a bit, and then they’d look at each other and then really quickly look away. This happened for the whole song every time the stage rotated. Caissie also seemed to do the tiniest double take when she faced that side of the stage.
Jack didn’t leave the stage after Aftershocks he was standing in the farthest box. So you could see Gabe’s silhouette in the far corner while the next scenes were happening which was quite powerful. 
Diana literally went “what the fuck?” when Dr Madden sent her away after telling her about Gabe 
Diana fully gasped as she put the music box down and the intro to How Could I Ever Forget started. 
When Diana moved away from Gabe during I’m Alive (Reprise) she had her hands over her heart and she was crying and just kept mouthing “my baby”. It was heartbreaking. Then the realisation hit her of what it meant and she got scared and ran off.
Gabe started crying even before Diana looked at him during The Break. He went from exhilaration during the first verse to suddenly getting scared when Diana came in with “they tried a million meds…”. For the rest of the song he was trying to get her attention, crawling up and down the counter in tears. Then when she touched him he completely broke down and was clinging onto her and crying so hard. 
He was also crying when he came out from behind the counter
Natalie sobbed out “stop” when Diana kissed her head in Maybe 
I Am the One (Reprise) may deserve its own post but anyway: Gabe was crying from his first lines (Jack was subtly wiping their face on their sleeve between phrases). He absolutely latched onto Dan, and Dan was sob-shouting his lines while Gabe was absolutely screaming his. When Dan pulled away Gabe tried so hard to catch hold of him again so they had this little tussle mid song during the “yeah”s. Dan then backed away, Gabe leaned fully over the side of the counter reaching for him and tried to belt out “I am the one who loved you” with all his soul but his voice broke so badly basically no sound came out until “loved you”. The same happened with the “tried” on the next line. It was absolutely beautiful and so heartbreaking. He then managed to get out the “you’ve always known who I am”, did this massive sobbing gasp afterwards and was just staring at Dan with tears running down his face. “Hi Dad” was so small and cracky it shattered my heart. Dan then slowly walked towards Gabe with his hand outstretched but stopped just before he reached him, and Gabe raised his hand too so their fingers almost touched and that’s when Natalie came in. Gabe then broke down audibly sobbing
Dan started to break when Gabe touched Natalie’s hand but Gabe then stopped at the bottom of the stairs to cry and Dan started absolutely gasping and sobbing and it was so sad. Like he was watching Gabe leave him for a second time and it destroyed him.
Diana was watching Nat and Henry interact in Light which was a lovely moment. She did a kind of “well fair enough” smile when Henry asked if her parents were real 
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mj-iza-writer · 3 months ago
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Whumptober Day 31
Asking for help - Therapy - Making Amends - "I'm alive, just not well" (Elliott Lee, Alive, not well)
"Master.... please help it", Whumpee came running through the house.
Whumper looked up from their book as Whumpee came tearing into the living room.
"Help what?", Whumper frowned, "hey, relax, take a deep breath... I can't understand what you're on about."
Whumpee took a rushed breath before repeating.
"Help it please, it's dying", Whumpee hurried again.
Whumper saw tears in Whumpee's eyes.
"You're dying?", Whumper frowned.
Whumpee shook their head no.
"Alright alright. I'll humor you", Whumper got up, "take me to what you're talking about."
Whumper followed Whumpee outside to the end of their yard.
Whumpee knelt down and looked up at Whumper pleadingly.
Whumper looked along the curve until they saw two beady eyes looking up at them.
"Oh my", Whumper frowned, "a little kitten."
"I saw a car swerve and purposely hit it", Whumpee admitted, "please Master."
"Whumpee sometimes we can't fix these things. We can't mess with nature. I know it's sad, but we... can't.... help them", Whumper frowned as Whumpee wiped their eyes, "Whumpee", Whumper they sighed.
"It's not fair", Whumpee sobbed, "you saved m..."
"I know Whumpee", Whumper sighed, "I'll take it to the animal hospital though. They can give it a more comfortable good bye."
Whumpee looked at the cat sadly.
"Would you like to go with me?", Whumper started to pick up the kitten, "you have to promise to be good."
Whumpee thought quietly and nodded.
"Alright, let's go find a box and make it comfortable. I'm sure they will be happy to have someone love them for their last few moments", Whumper cradled the baby gently.
Whumpee gently pet the kitten's head as Whumper drove to the vet office.
"Whumpee, I'm sorry you have to learn about mean people like this", Whumper glanced at them, "I know I wasn't the nicest a while ago, and I hope you see me trying to be better. People are cold and heartless."
Whumpee sniffled a little and nodded, "you're a good master.. Master", Whumpee whispered.
"It's.... purring", Whumpee smiled weakly.
"It's showing you that it appreciates the love you are giving it", Whumper smiled comfortingly.
Whumper explained the situation to the vet.
"My... uh.. child saw the kitten get purposely hit. They wanted to try to save it, but I don't know if there is much we can do", Whumper sighed, "I thought we would at least give it this."
The vet nodded, and took the kitten from Whumpee.
Whumpee couldn't help but start crying.
Whumper wrapped an arm around Whumpee to comfort them.
"Shh, it's alright", Whumper whispered, "we are giving the the best we can. The vet knows how to help them now."
The car ride home was almost quiet. Whumpee's sobbing was louder than they intended.
"Whumpee when we get home, you can relax for the afternoon", Whumper sighed, "you've had a hard day."
"The... chores?", Whumpee shook.
"I'll do the chores today", Whumper sighed, "its fine."
Whumpee curled up in the corner of the living room and held one of their stuffies in their arms.
"I wonder if the kitten had a name even", Whumpee watched Whumper come in, "what if it dies without a name?"
Whumper thought quietly, "what would you have named it?"
"Hope", Whumpee answered quickly.
Whumper nodded, "well it now has a name."
Whumpee smiled.
Whumper snuck out the following day and went up to the vet.
"So what was the verdict with the kitten?", Whumper frowned.
"Unfortunately, you were right. The best thing we could do was put it down. There were too many injuries. The kitten wouldn't have had a good quality of life", the vet sighed, "how is your child doing?"
"Distraught, they named the kitten Hope. They were afraid it would die without a name", Whumper smiled, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but are their any kittens for adoption?"
"Whumpee, will you come here", Whumper called from the living room.
"Yes Master.. one minute please", Whumpee called back.
Whumper sat down, but out of excitement, they jumped back up.
Whumpee came in and knelt.
"Whumpee you have been doing so well lately. I am so proud of you", Whumper almost laughed gleefully, "you about broke my heart yesterday. So, I decided to reward you with something I think you'll love.
Whumpee looked at Whumper timidly. Their master may have changed majorly, but surprises were still a little nerve racking.
Whumpee sat down and reached down the side of their chair. They pulled up a small fur ball.
"Master.... what? Wait is that?", Whumpee almost jumped up but remembered their rules.
"This, unfortunately, is not Hope. Hope was very badly hurt. But, they believe this is one of Hope's siblings. They are doing a DNA test right now. The kitten was also found near where Hope was found. This kitten is for you, my dear", Whumper smiled, "you may come say hi."
Whumpee popped up and hurried to Whumper's side.
The kitten mewed at Whumpee as they reached a hand to pet it.
"They will be your responsibility, but I will help", Whumper smiled, "I was considering getting a pet, so this is why I went ahead and adopted them."
"What's their name?", Whumpee whispered as they got their face closer.
The kitten playfully pawed at Whumpee's nose, making them giggle.
"They don't have one just yet", Whumper chuckled as they handed the kitten to Whumpee, "I thought that could be your job."
Whumpee looked at Whumper with doe eyes.
"I get to name them?", Whumpee whispered.
"Yes my dear", Whumper nodded, then watched as Whumpee thought.
The kitten wiggled around in Whumpee's arms.
"Happy", Whumpee finally smiled, "because they made me very happy. Is that okay Master?"
"That is a very good name", Whumper smiled as they patted Whumpee's head, "the vet gave us a few things to use, but we will need to get some stuff tomorrow for Happy. It's a little late now."
Whumpee nodded as they looked down at the kitten.
"Thankyou so much Master", Whumpee smiled up at them, "this means so much."
"You're welcome dear", Whumper leaned back, "do you have any more chores to do?"
"No Master, I finished everything", Whumpee smiled, "they're purring."
"Then go ahead and enjoy some time with Happy", Whumper smiled.
"Whumpee go ahead and get ready for bed", Whumper stood at the end of the hall.
"Yes Master", Whumpee answered happily.
Whumpee set the kitten down on their mattress and started to change.
They noticed how the kitten stared at them, and they realized they were looking at a scar on Whumpee's stomach.
"Oh, Master did that a while ago. They almost killed me when they went too far, but they saved my life", Whumpee answered the unspoken question, "they're different now... honest."
The kitten meowed at Whumpee.
"Meow" Whumpee giggled.
Whumper was surprised when they saw the kitten round the corner and stare up at them.
"Hello", Whumper greeted, "I thought you were sleeping with Whumpee."
Whumper reached down a hand to see if the kitten would come to them.
Happy stared at the hand for a moment before walking toward it.
"Such a good kitty.... ow", Whumper pulled their hand back and glared at the cat, "what was that for?", Whumper watched two spots of blood coming out from their hand, "you better not make that a habit."
The kitten pranced off seemingly pleased with themself.
They kitten climbed back onto the mattress, they stopped to look at Whumpee's stomach before crawling up to Whumpee's nose and softly pawed at them.
Whumpee woke up a little and pet the kitten until they snuggled up close again.
"Goodnight Happy", Whumpee whispered.
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.
@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived
@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid
@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz
@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13
@notpeppermint @cyborg0109
@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots
@whumpbump @everythingsscary
@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr
@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee
@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems
@lavndvrr @ivymyers
@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas
@lumpofsand @watermeezer
@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains
@3-2-whump @risk606
@electrons2006 @paperprinxe
@whumprince @kaz-of-crows
@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94
@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl
@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud
@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald
@jasperthecapser @does-directions
@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter
@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf
@thenormalestever @whatwhump
@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation
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w4nd3r3r123456 · 19 days ago
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De-nailing?
I haven't written in a while and it was ticking me off so i pulled this tgthr. NOT PROOF READ. lemme know if i made any mistakes :)
Whumper returned the next day, flicking on the hallway lights as they entered the sullen blood painted room. Whumpee lay slumped in the corner, lowering their head further as the light flooded their eyes. “What, no greeting today either?” Whumper mused as they ambled closer, the soft clacking of their dress shoes coming to a halt as they knelt down, hooking the pliers in their hand under Whumpee’s chin, forcing their gagged head up. Whumpee obliged to the movement, their eyes still glazed over as Whumper chuckled at their dumb figure. “Guess I'll have to give you a smaller dose next time, huh? ” Whumpee heard the words, trying profusely to nod their head, being disconnected was always better than feeling every strike against their body and their aftermaths. Whumper sighed as he rose, stalking away as he pulled his trenchcoat off his suit and folded his sleeves up, stopping at the box of black disposable gloves that he kept on the only stand in the expanse. Whumpee managed a whimper as Whumper turned back with a falsely sympathetic smile, “ I had a shit day at work……… *sigh* our stocks dropped quite a bit……… you’ll help me out though, right? You’ll make me feel better?” Whumper pulled Whumpee’s limp body by their arm, pushing them down onto the wooden chair they were strapped into the day before. “You’ll cry for me, won’t you?” Whumper continued as he worked at the leather straps, forcing Whumpee’s wrists and ankles down. He paused as he began getting up, his eyes lingering on Whumpee’s face, lips already trembling as tears welled up in their eyes. “Oh? Tch, Angel, I know I said I wanted you to cry, but not over nothing.” He spoke, his fingers brushing across Whumpee’s cheek as the cold metal of the pliers met with their nail. Whumpee’s eyes widened at the sensation, their entire body shaking now as they tried prying their arm off the chair, begging through the gag. Whumper ignored their pleads, gently tugging at the nail on Whumpee’s thumb before snapping his head up, a sadistic grin plastering his face “This’ll hurt a bit” he was warning one second, the next, Whumpee’s hand was on fire, their fingers throbbing as blood slowly swelled up before dripping down the chair arm, their back arched as they pressed head into the wood, a muffled shriek ripped from their throat. Whumper cackled as he lifted the crimson nail to their own face, bits of flesh still stuck to it. “Four more to go!” his grin faltering as he watched Whumpee heave,eyes wide as tears soaked the cloth stuffed in their mouth. “Hey, you’d better not pass out on me.” He growled, his fingers curling into Whumpee’s hair and forcing them to look directly at Whumper. He dropped their head as he pressed Whumpee’s hand down, flattening it against the chair as he connected the pliers to their index finger. “ Don’t try moving your hand……… you’ll get yourself a shitload of nerve damage.” Whumper warned before wrenching the second nail. Whumpee’s world faded as they let out another gut wrenching scream, struggling against their restraints. “Three to go” Whumper hummed, tossing the nail to the floor, tilting his head deviously as whumpee tossed their head, begging for Whumper to stop. “ I finish the three today, you get a bath, dinner, and I'll let you sleep with me. Make me finish tomorrow, i’ll leave you in the chair all night and nail you down before pulling the nails from both your hands.” He didn’t wait for an answer before violently yanking at the third finger, Whumpee’s sobs getting louder as Whumper kept at it, occasionally prodding at the now exposed skin. “ There, was that really so bad?” Whumper’s voice suddenly echoed in Whumpee’s ears. They kept their head lowered, tears soaking their gag as they gasped through their cries, eyes never leaving their sore, throbbing, horrifying hand as Whumper pressed his lips to their head. “I love you”.
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ladykailitha · 4 months ago
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A Love Connection Part 3
Hey, all! Welcome to first of two posts today.
I've really got to ask, are you guys seeing these posts? I dropped from 70-80 notes on a post at the beginning of the month to barely cracking 40-50 these days and then it slowly works up as more people see it, but it's taking weeks to get that when it used to take a day maybe two.
I did change my schedule but the people I'm tagging should be able to see them right? And the people that have me on notifications?
Also I've seen a sharp drop in people that used to comment and reblog all the time, from anywhere from not seeing them at all to them only liking a post.
I'm not trying to dog anyone, I'm just curious about the sudden change.
Any advice would be helpful.
This morning's chapter includes the cutest kitten (Sorry Nermal), a Robin apology, and Chrissy and Robin have a confession to make.
Part 1 Part 2
~
Steve pulled up to the apartment building and turned off his car. He put his head on the steering wheel with a heavy sigh. He was about to hit his head on the horn when he heard it. He lifted his head and tilted it.
There!
Steve scrambled to get out of the car. He rushed toward the sound. He skidded on the wet and icy pavement as he tried to come to a stop, nearly toppling over in the process. Near the dumpsters was a wet cardboard box, falling apart in the thick snow.
He scrambled toward it, trying to keep his feet under him. He knelt in the snow and peeled back as sagging corner of the box to reveal the sweetest thing he had ever seen. There, all alone in the destroyed box was a small cream colored kitten with dark brown ears. It looked up at Steve and mewled in the weakest, most plaintive meow imaginable.
He sank to his knees and with gentle hands scooped the wet creature into his arms. It clung to him as he stood shakily to his feet.
“Hey, little guy,” he murmured. “Don’t you know outside is no place to be at this time of year?”
It mewled again and clung a little harder to Steve’s coat. “There’s no place open for me to get you checked out, little one, but let’s get you inside and dried off at the very least, then I’ll see what I have that you can eat until I can get you some proper food. How does that sound?”
“Mew!”
Steve chuckled. “I figured you’d be down with that.”
He turned away from the now fully collapsed box, that once had read on the outside “KITTENS FREE TO GOOD HOME”
~
Before Steve even gotten the kitten dried and fed, he knew he was going to keep it. The poor little thing was as alone as he was feeling in that moment.
He looked up vet services and vowed to make a run to the pet store for supplies first thing in the morning.
He looked up everything he could; like how old the kitten was likely to be, what kind of nutrition the little thing needed, how to tell the sex of his new friend, what toys it would need, proper bedding.
He fell asleep reading how to tell how big a kitten was going to grow up to be, the kitten nestled under his chin.
Steve woke up to distressed mewling. He shot up when he realized it, no not it, he, was no longer on his chest. At first he couldn’t see him, but then he caught sight of the small little paw located near the distressed meows.
He peered over the sofa and burst out laughing. Somehow the kitten had gotten one of his claws caught in the afghan Joyce had given him his first year as a teacher. Something she did for all new teachers at her school regardless of their years being a teacher.
He reached over and gently untangled the little thing from the blanket. “There you go. What were you doing up there anyway?”
“Merrow!” he meowed.
Steve checked his watch and was pleased to note it was barely seven. Which meant he had plenty of time to get dressed, get the little tyke checked out and to stop by the pet store for supplies.
He set him down on the sofa and immediately the kitten tried to walk off the edge. “All all kittens this dumb or is it just you?”
“Meroh!” the kitten cried.
He laughed and scooped him up into his arms. He set the kitten in the middle of the bed so he could change his clothes. Steve laughed every time he had to stop what he was doing and rescue him from the edge, placing him in the center of the bed once again.
Finally he was ready to go. He placed the kitten in his coat to keep it from getting stuck under the car seat and for Steve’s own piece of mind.
He drove to the nearest vet and hoped it wouldn’t cost him an arm and a leg to get the little guy checked out.
~
The vet was quick and painless. On his wallet too. The nice lady at the desk got him set up with a vaccination schedule and the adoption papers.
“All right,” she said warmly, “all he needs is a name.”
Steve chewed on his lip for a moment before he wrote in big capital letters “ODIE”.
She raised her eyebrow but before she could comment the vet’s assistant came out with the little rascal. “That has got be the stupidest or the most fearless kitten I’ve ever met.”
The desk lady looked back at the vet’s assistant and then back at Steve who was trying very hard to hide his smile and failing miserably.
She sighed and helped put the kitten in a cardboard carrier. “There you go, Odie is all set.”
The vet’s assistant burst out laughing. “I like it.”
Steve was about to ask for her number when he noticed a ring on her left hand. Damn.
Oh well, he couldn’t win them all. He thanked them both and took his new friend out to his car.
“Come on, Odie,” he murmured, buckling the carrier into the passenger seat, “lets go get you everything you’ll need.”
~
Steve had just gotten into the car when his cell phone pinged. He opened it to reveal a text from Robin telling him to call her.
He dialed her number. “Hey, Bobbin.”
“So, um...my girlfriend is mad at me for ditching you,” she began nervously, “and making you watch the AV club when last night was supposed to be about hanging out with you before we left.”
Steve sighed. Which meant that Robin had lied to Chrissy about him joining them later and she only found out this morning that was never the plan. “How much hot water are you in?”
“A lot,” Robin admitted. “Like if this trip hadn’t been planned for months, I wouldn’t be going kind of hot water.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and sighed. “Yeah, that’s pretty bad. Is she doing the thing with her bottom lip and watery eyes?”
“Yes!” she wailed. “Now I feel horrible!”
“About upsetting your girlfriend or for ditching me?” he asked because he felt it was a very important distinction she needed to make.
“Shit!” she hissed. “Of course I feel horrible about leaving you with seven little demons. I know I wasn’t last night when you were messaging me, but I filled with booze. When I got home I was filled with regret. I’m the one that told her about ditching you, she didn’t find out any other way. I promise. You know how get with pretty ladies. Chrissy had showed me what she planned to wear out last night, yesterday morning and that the only thought in my head all day. And when you kept messaging me, and Chrissy kept asking me when you were coming out, I just dug a hole for myself and just kept digging. I’m really sorry.”
She paused for a moment. “I probably should have led with that instead of the upset girlfriend, huh?”
Steve clicked his tongue. “Yeah, probably. So when are you two leaving?”
“In a few minutes,” she murmured. “We have everything packed up and ready to go, we just need to get to the airport and get checked in.”
“Are you sure you two don’t want me to take you?” Steve asked. “I could be there in five minutes. That way you don’t have to take an Uber or pay for long term parking.”
Suddenly there was BEEP, BEEP!
“Looks like our ride is here,” Robin said. “Chrissy got one of her friends to take us because they live closer. But you better pick us up, okay? I’ll miss your stupid face.”
“Your face is stupider,” Steve teased back. “You two ladies have a great trip and I’ll see you in a week.”
Robin sighed dramatically. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
“I can’t,” Steve said, “you’re taking all the stupid with you.”
“Hey!” she protested as he hung up on her. He chuckled at the immediate message he got after the call disconnected.
He looked over at the new cat carrier he bought. It was much bigger than Odie currently needed but Steve wanted to give him room to grow into. The kitten was currently asleep in it. Having passed out while Steve was shopping. This is didn’t count as doing something stupid while she was gone, he reasoned, because she was still here.
~
Once Steve got home, he setup the cat bed in the living room, the food and water dishes in the kitchen and the litterbox in the bathroom. He would need to be trained to use the litterbox, but the nice ladies at the vet said it was fairly easy because it was pretty much their instinct to want to bury their wastes.
Steve just had to be consistent. Which was perfect because he had the next two weeks off.
He put the pet toys in his room and settled Odie in. He had been fed and shown the litterbox where he promptly did his business. Steve turned on the latest season of “A Love Connection” and Odie immediately curled up on Steve’s chest right under his chin.
Yeah, this was going to work out just fine.
Over the next week Steve and Odie got used to each other and Steve learned that Odie was more fearless than stupid. He wouldn’t go anywhere he might actually get hurt, once he knew where the limits were. But he was always testing those limits.
Steve knew that he would probably have to find a bigger place once Odie had grown up because of all the jumping the little thing tried to do.
The kitten was aptly named in one sense though, he followed Steve around like a dog. Always at Steve’s heels.
He wasn’t sure how many times he almost stepped on Odie, but it was a lot. But he had good reflexes and he sure put them to the test.
~
A week later, Chrissy and Robin showed up at the apartment with a six pack of his favorite beer, a large bag of gummy worms, and of course his Christmas presents. But it was the guilty expressions that really sold it.
“So um...” Robin began looking at Chrissy for help. “In early November, ‘Love Connection’ posted online for a casting call for their all queer season of their show. I think it’s a little rude that it’ll be for the thirteenth season, but–”
Chrissy put her hand on Robin’s arm. “What Robin is trying to say is that we sent in your application as a joke. We didn’t think that they would pick it. It was one in a couple million shot, you know? Anyway, I think they must have recognized my email as the one attached to my Twitter account and well...”
Steve put his face in his hands. “You didn’t...come on, guys. I don’t want to go on a game show to find love. I’m not that desperate yet.”
“We brought you gummy bears and beer!” Robin said hold up her prizes like that would help the matter. At all.
Steve was ready to open his mouth to shut this down when he got the best idea. “I’ll do the show on one condition,” he said with a blinding smile.
Chrissy and Robin shared a shocked glance. They didn’t think he would agree so easily.
“Yeah, okay,” Chrissy said warily, not sure where this was going.
Steve dashed into the bedroom and came back holding the kitten Lion King style. “I get to keep Odie!”
~
Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Tag List: FIVE SLOTS LEFT
1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji
5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss
9- @dreamercec @wheneverfeasible @themoonagainstmers @garden-of-gay @little-birch-boy
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