#i think he’d enjoy land of stories
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ask-actual-celestial-au · 4 months ago
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castor, do you have a favorite book?
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Hm. I suppose I’d have to say False Prince. It’s pretty hard to pick just one though.
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simplyreveries · 10 months ago
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I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!
what about a reader who’s unknowingly flirting with the twst wonderland cast (specifically savanclaw, octanaville and diasomnia) because of culture differences and species differences?
e.g petting their ears, giving them gifts, smiling with teeth (bc for moray eels that’s how they mate 👀)
OR fem reader who has her period and some of the twst students can smell it I LITERALLY HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT THIS 😭😭😭😭
OMLL I APPRECIATE ITTT!!! sorry for the wait!!! i chose some from each dorm bc of my character limit btw!!
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azul ashengrotto
despite how much azul continues to do his best to learn about life on land… relationships are certainly difficult for him to understand sometimes considering how long he has spent his life in the sea and though there are many similarities between merpeople… there are still some differences. once azul is rather close to you he does become unintentionally— clingy with you. (when you two officially get together that's another story) but he has a habit of wanting to lean close to you or have a hand on you in some way, like on the small of your back when showing you something in the mostro lounge.
so needless to say, he is in love with any sort of touch from you he takes that as some sort of hope and sign that you reciprocate how he feels haha. jade and floyd tease him ALL the time about it especially when he was struggling to keep his cool-headed composure after you once gave him a hug after he did something to help you once.
like I've said azul really doesn't think about it or even try to be this way around you he just does aljdfajdkhf. he’ll feel like a smitten fool as he sits in the vip lounge as he's doing papers and just think about how you playfully linked your arm around his to bring him somewhere. small things like that are actually quite big to him when it comes down to the differences.
jade leech
he's aware you probably don't know that you're unknowingly flirting with him, but he finds it amusing and plays along with you, nevertheless. he thinks it's cute that you don't know and all the more enticing, you’ll find him chuckling, trying to hide his grin with his gloved hand “oh my, I didn't know you liked me that much fufu” he’d say. you can't help but feel confused as to what he finds so interesting… like you literally just yawned.
it'll take him a while to actually tell you what it means since he finds the obliviousness to be quite cute. you only put two and two together when he tells floyd about what you did right in front of him and the two laugh about it. now you've got floyd teasing u about it..
like azul he is a little more affectionate just in a different more. in a less obvious fashion, though there definitely have been a few occasions where he likes to bring your hand to his lips and see your reaction, he finds it so amusing. he always has his teethy grin plastered on his face.
leona kingscholar
he hates the way he can always tell when you're wearing cologne or perfume and he hates that he likes it as well, he may or may not be a bit addicted to your scent. he literally can tell if you're near just because he knows the damn fragrance you use.
if you two are particuarly close... like him falling asleep around you and such. if you happen to pet his head and his ears, he immediately shoots you this look then mumbles something before being too tired to do anything about it or give you some retort. he just lets it happen... he does enjoy it anyway. slowly he kinda doesnt realize how clingy he can get with you because of it. he becomes a little needy and wanting more attention from you. he cant help it.... i mean you basically just showed him that you're fine with it anyways.
leona seems to be someone who can get pretty possessive, unintentionally too over you. kind of territorial, like if you're someone he has eyes for then he doesn't expect others to really get in the way of that.
malleus draonica
malleus is not only a fae but a pretty sheltered one too, I’d think he’d take almost anything from you as a sign of you being completely infatuated with him as he is with you. you could offer split your ice cream or invite him out somewhere, show any sort of interest in him as he talks about gargoyles as he’s doing single club activities. the one time you asked curiously and wanted to touch his horns, he’d be searching for the loveliest jewel to bestow you for your wedding day.
speaking of jewels… he gifts to you a lot especially after you give him anything first (it could be a cool rock you found) and he’d be so smitten and glad to reciprocate that by giving you earrings, rings, necklaces etc. and when you accept them even though you're not exactly fully understanding why he takes it even more as a sign of you accepting his advances.
after taking any of your little acts of being somewhat kind to him and he’s already so deeply into you, lilia would certainly be someone who hears just all about it. i think he would only feel happy for malleus, as it appears he must’ve found the right one. he is just supportive of malleus and is simply overjoyed to know he has some little human that makes him so happy.
lilia vanrouge
he has lived long enough and in different places to understands human courting's and more so than someone like malleus. he knows how different it is, trust me he is fully aware, but he thinks it's amusing. lilia pretends to take it the wrong way and watch you get all confused, when he's just being playful.
just cant help that he finds it so adorable when you unknowingly show him affections as a fae would in his culture. even just being slightly affectionate with him is enough to have him giggling and warning you to be careful to what fae you do that to. they do tend to take very kindly towards any affections and gifts!
lilia will straight up tell you though too, you could gift him and give him something neat you found or made, and he'd look up at you with a stupid grin like "kfufu... i accept your love, dear" NO???. he still holds onto anything from you with the utmost joy.
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slater-baby · 6 months ago
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Hi slater I saw that you do requests now and I can’t stop thinking about this prompt so I RAN to your ask box
Imagine if Simon had like a girlfriend or wife that he hid from the 141 bc he’s scared to put her in danger but then he accidentally ends up mentioning her anyway? Imagine how cute their reaction would be :(((((
Anyway I love Texas Red rn literally what I sleep eat and breathe <3 hope you’re doing well lovely
- 🐙 anon
Im gonna call u Octo Anon cause somehow that goes well in my mind lol hope you enjoy the story!! Tags: drinking, recreational drug use (weed), drunken confessions, banter, newlyweds, pure tooth-rotting fluff, whipped!Simon
-
Six months. 
It had been six painfully long months since they’d been sent on this blasted deployment. A deployment which, to no short degree, went off the rails the minute they hopped off the transport. They’d been stuck in the ass end of the Mexican jungle, working a joint operation to see a few two-bit traffickers into their maximum security cells in the United States. 
Thinking back on it now, it was far from the most dangerous operation they’d ever been sent on, but if the misadventures they’d had had been any less hilarious, he might have been inclined to say the short deployment would live on in his nightmares. 
First, a private had accidentally locked the keys to one of their armored trucks inside the car. Price had been livid, shouting loud enough that the enemy might as well have had their direct position on UAV. Needless to say, it took three hours, two crow bars, and five men over 220 to crack the doors in time to make it back for evening mess. 
Then, Soap’s detonators had fizzled out halfway through an infiltration.
-
“Fuck do you mean they’re blitzed?!” Simon had yelled through the heavy gunfire, ducking behind a tree trunk when a bullet came whizzing by his face.
“Means the cap’s fucked,” Soap had yelled back, crouching in a pile of wires that were all too complicated for Simon to understand.
“Get it fuckin’ fixed, will ya?! I got thirty men out here, and I’m not burying ‘em until we’re back at base—”
“Have some patience, LT—”
“Patience?!” Simon had growled, pinning Johnny with a pointed stare, “Another word, MacTavish, and send you out there myself.”
“Just—” Soap grunted, stripping another wire, “Got my wires crossed or something—”
A blaze had consumed the battlefield, a shockwave big enough to make Simon stumble on his feet rocking the earth. A tense quiet had ensued, punctuated by falling tree limbs. The gun shots had halted immediately. Panting, he’d looked down at Soap’s confused face.
“Oh…” the sergeant had chuckled, holding up the detonator for Simon to look at, “Guess it was the yellow wire then.”
-
And even after all that, there were no shortage of stupid mistakes on base that had nearly cost him his sanity. A few privates suspiciously AWOL (who’d eventually been found blind drunk at a tequila bar after a five alarm fire and an intense search of the entire base). An air raid siren that malfunctioned the minute the lot of them were finally down to sleep. And to cap it all off, a session with a group of green recruits who wanted to observe a few SAS soldiers in their prime. One thing led to another, and when an errant misfire at the gun range nearly landed in Simon’s foot, he would have swum all the way back to England just to get a night of peace and quiet in his own damn house.
However, all’s well that end’s well, he supposes. No use in complaining about it now—especially when the mission had bore such impressive fruits. In the end, all three of the targets they’d been searching for had gone away in cuffs, and to top it all off, the leader of the cartel in question was coincidentally at the meeting they’d raided just hours ago—an absolute miracle by all counts.
Another success. Another name crossed off the Most Wanted List. And another long night of celebration before they headed back to Europe. All things considered, it couldn’t have ended better. 
Though, that isn’t to say they were any more professional than they’d been when they’d gotten here.
-
“Soap,” he’d groaned, deadpan.
“C’mon, Ghost, lighten up,” Johnny had drawled, sticking the smoke between his teeth.
“What the hell is that?” He’d pointed to the smoke in question.
“Nothin’, LT. Just…” he’d shrugged, lighting up, “…not baccy.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon remarked, pinching his nose bridge, “Y’know, Price’ll have you by the balls if he sees you smoking that.”
“Not if I offer him a hit first,” Soap answered, blowing a ring of smoke, “Old bastard’s got back pain, y’know…”
“Fuckin’ hell…”
Simon had shaken his head, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. Beyond the fence of the base, he’d seen the chirping night bugs, glowing fireflies illuminating the woods just on the other end. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d seen another cloud of smoke waft throughout the air. His fingers had tapped against his bicep. His profuse scowl fell with a single twitch of his lip.
“Fine,” he’d relented (all too excitedly), “Give it—before I decide to write you up myself.”
-
Needless to say, one hit turned into a second…turned into this.
“No—no, that’s against the rules,” Kyle wheezed, bent halfway over in his chair while Soap sat on his knees in the chair across the table, squinting aggressively down at the cups of beer on Kyle’s end.
“It’s fuckin’ not, ye git, now yer just being dramatic—” he wobbled on his knees, barely able to catch himself on the edge of the table before he fell off the chair.
“Hate it break it to you, lads,” Price smirked, feet kicked up against the table while he sipped on a finger of whiskey, “But beer pong ain’t exactly meant to be played sitting down…don’t even know what rules you’re yapping about…”
“Shut up, Price,” both of them had drunkenly snapped, and Price acquiesced with two raised hands.
Somehow, the night had come to this. The four of them in the basement of the watchman’s tower, surrounded in all the army fanfare one could expect. Open bottles of Jack Daniels. Old posters of bikini models on the concrete walls. Metal music blaring through a tinny bluetooth speaker. 
Soap had bought too much weed for his own good. Which—when combined with a near lethal dose of liquor—had all of them blazed off of their faces. Captain, included. At least, if they got written up, their leading officer’s signature could bail them out. Not like the MP wouldn’t keep their mouths shut for a few hits, anyway.
Now, Kyle and Johnny were an hour into a game of beer pong, adding a new rule seemingly every second just to keep things interesting. First, you had to drink two cups for every point the other person scored. Then, you had to balance a shot of tequila on your shoulder when you threw. And now, you had to be sitting in a chair that was at least a foot away from the edge of the table when it was your turn.
The two of them were so smashed this round alone had taken them forty five minutes at least. And—judging by the way Soap was wobbling on his knees—it would be another forty five minutes at the very least.
“Just fucking throw already,” Kyle giggled.
“Shut up, Gaz, m’allowed to take my time—”
With a look of sloshed concentration, Soap inelegantly chucks the ping pong ball across the table, arm wound up like a baseball pitcher just to get it in the cup without a bounce. It smacks Kyle in the chest, knocking over a cup of beer, and before he can even curse, the wheels of the chair slide out from under him, and Johnny lands face first on the concrete floor.
The sound of it is so loud it rings around the walls. The laughter that ensues is so raucous the boys on watch duty upstairs are no doubt getting an earful.
“Fuck—” Gaz wheezes, clutching his stomach.
Simon manages to stifle a laugh with another sip of beer. But when Price suddenly jerks forward, a spray of whiskey leaving his mouth, Simon can’t contain his own laughter for even a second longer. His chuckles are deep and hoarse, a sound that was so scarcely heard Soap stops his whining just to straighten up in awe.
But, hell, even if the three of them are staring at him like he’s grown a second head, Simon can’t stop it. No, he laughs until he’s nearly blue in the face, coughing around the remnants of the beer in his mouth.
“Damn,” Kyle peers curiously over at him, drunken gaze so amusing it only makes him laugh harder, “Looks like you broke him…”
“Not broken,” he manages brokenly, clearing his throat to try and appear a bit more sober, but he’s far too sloshed to hide the way that he smiles, “Y’just look like an idiot is all.”
“M’not an idjit—”
“Just proves his point,” Price chips in.
“Whatever,” Soap sighs, standing up and dusting him off, “You bastards’re no fun anyway…”
For a second, the conversation drops out and only the music on the speaker can be heard. Idly, Simon looks down at his watch, however, with that simple movement, his head spins viciously, and he takes a deep breath just to steady himself. 
“Anybody got a pack o’ menthols?” Kyle suddenly chimes in, “Already smoked through mine…”
Simon hums, propping his hip up to reach into his jeans pocket to rifle around, “Think I got another pack…”
“Which brand?”
“Newport.”
“Braw,” Soap reaches over the table, “You lads want another round?”
-
“I miss Nando’s,” Gaz sighs, lazily fiddling with the beer bottle in his lap.
“Fuck, that sounds good,” Soap hazily leans onto his shoulder, eyes closed, like if he thought hard enough, he might be able to conjure the taste of it on his tongue. Truthfully, Johnny was a bit too drunk to conjure up anything beyond the taste of Don Julio, but even that seemed a little far fetched at the moment. 
They’d been doing this for a while now, going back and forth with all the things they wanted after deployment ended. It was a mindless game, one they probably wouldn’t even remember in the morning. Hell, even Simon was getting loose in the lips, droning on and on about some magical dish he’d been aching for. Honestly, it was so surprising to see him open up that the three of them were all but speechless to reply, listening intently as he stumbled through an incoherent explanation. Hell, at this point, they’d listen to him talk nonsense so long as his coworkers got a glimpse into the mysterious life he lived when he was off base.
Over the years, the most he’d talked about was the gym that he frequented, and which groceries he bought for dinner. In all honesty, it was hard to imagine Ghost outside of those two particular scenarios. Ghost, lifting weights for hours on end, some acrid black metal blaring in his headphones. Ghost, puttering through the grocery store with a surgical mask on, trolley chock full of sad TV dinners and beer cans. To Johnny, it seemed like Simon only came out of his shell on base, amongst his friends. But as a civillian…
Yeah, Johnny can practically imagine him sitting in his darkened flat, scarfing down protein bars and counting down the days until they were back on the job.
Coworker gossip aside, all the food talk was making Johnny’s stomach rumble, and the fact that they’d be back in the UK just past one in the morning was not helping the vicious craving he had for Peri Peri chicken.
“I miss sausage rolls,” he slurs. God, when had Kyle’s shoulder gotten so comfortable? Somewhere between pint three and four?
“Jaffa cakes,” Price offers.
“Fuck,” Kyle groans, head thrown back against the sofa cushions.
Simon mumbles something underneath his breath. It’s slurred and nearly incoherent. Johnny peaks open a single eye to look over at where he sits in his stool, leant up against the wall because he was too drunk to sit up straight anymore. Idly, he laughs. God, if only the guys on the other side could see him now: the infamous Ghost, blackout drunk next to some faded Playboy poster.
Fuck.
Soap has half a mind to take a picture of it if only so that he could tease Simon about it when they were nursing hangovers on the plane tomorrow morning.
However, Simon doesn’t make to speak up again, and the rest of them don’t comment. Instead, they continue sipping on their final drinks, all of them watching with rapt attention as the ceiling fan makes another circle.
“Miss my couch,” Price suddenly chimes.
Another few seconds. Another few circles.
“I miss steak pie,” he suddenly finds himself drawling eyes unwittingly closed, “The one my ma used to make…”
“Chicken dippers—the kind you put in the oven…” Gaz responds, “And fresh chips.”
“Chicken noodle soup,” Price hums, “Mum used to make the best…”
Just imagining the taste, Johnny could burst into tears. God, it’s been a long six months, eating nothing but mess hall mashed potatoes and MREs. He’s just about to chime in when Simon’s arm shifts against the wall and he manages a slurred sentence.
“Pasta and shrimp,” he says, voice unfocused like the reply was completely unconscious, “With…white wine and butter…”
At that, Soap furrows his brows—even with his eyes still closed. Simon drank white wine? Simon  “Ghost” Riley, the man who wore a literal human skull on his face and had a tattoo of an AK-47 on his forearm, drank white wine and ate shrimp pasta when he was off duty?
Hm.
Never guess a book by its cover, he supposes.
Another silence ensues, one that’s punctuated with the somber, quiet atmosphere of the early morning and months without comfort. Now that the beer has dried up, and the battery on the speaker had died, there was nothing left except for a quiet yearning for a place that wasn’t here. A place that was faraway and over seas, full of life and love, as well as all the people who were waiting for them to come back.
“I miss doing the laundry,” Price says, voice…unreadable.
“Miss going grocery shopping,” Gaz huffs quietly.
“I miss…” Johnny beings, nearly falling asleep, “I miss going home.”
With that, it all drops dead. There’s no more fanfare, no more celebration. Not for what they’d achieved or what they’d done. There was only reality, cold and hard, weighing on their shoulders like a barbell. 
That is, until Simon makes a long sigh, clumsily leaning his elbows on his knees. He swipes over his face, tired and smashed.
“Fuck,” he says, “I miss my wife.”
At that, three pairs of eyes shoot open all at once. Suddenly, sleep seems like a faraway dream. And even if his head spins, Johnny straightens up in his chair.
“What?” Kyle asks, voice so sharp Soap would have thought he was sober.
“Miss my wife,” Simon drawls, taking a breath, “It’s been…six months.”
“But…” Soap furrows his brows, sending Price a questioning look from across the room. Even the Captain seems puzzled, sending Johnny an eager nod in approval.
“But…you have a wife?” Soap manages, wiping his eyes to see Simon’s exposed smile even a little bit clearer.
“‘Course I fuckin’ do,” he answers, nearly falling off of his stool when he straightens back up, “She’s waitin’ for me back home. Doesn’t know I’ll be back tomorrow…”
“But you have a wife?!” Kyle edges, leaning forward on his elbows like this was astonishing news. And Johnny does, too, because of course it fucking was. His lieutenant? Married? Had hell frozen over?
“What?” Simon glances around the room, lips pulled into a clumsy scowl, as if the answer were obvious, “Price has a wife. S’not all that weird…”
“Had,” Price corrects, taking another gulp of beer, “Divorced last year.”
“Whatever,” Simon flippantly waves his hand, leaning back into the wall like he could pass out at a moments’ notice, “Fuck the lot of you. My wife is...Fuck, I miss her.”
“No—didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…” Kyle swallows, trying valiantly to wrack his brain for any singular instance where Simon could have mentioned a girlfriend, “Never heard how the two of you met.”
“I didn’t tell you?”
“Guess I just forgot,” Gaz lies through his teeth.
“Mm…” Simon swipes his palm over his stubble, head lolling, “Met her a couple years ago. She lived across the hall. Y’know, neighbors ’n all that shite…”
As Simon readies himself to speak another word, Price leans forward, too, the three of them watching with equal amounts of bewilderment as Simon explains his supposed “wife.” If he was being truthful, Johnny still didn’t believe it. To have a pretty little thing waiting for him at home, cooking him dinners with white wine and grilled shrimp…sue him if it all feels like a grand lie. Another joke Simon would play on them.
“She brought me biscuits when she moved in,” Simon huffs, eyebrows raised like he was imagining the taste of it himself, “God, they were so good…I miss that. Her biscuits. She makes ‘em so good. Cherry pie, too…She makes ‘em on movie night. Whole batches of ‘em. She doesn’t even complain when I eat ‘em all. She just makes more. Fuck, she’s too sweet…”
Simon rubs his fingers over his eyes, mouth closing—like he didn’t have an entire audience captivated with his drunken slurs. 
“And…?” Gaz prompts, practically unblinking.
“Well…I mean, when I opened the door I hated it,” he snorts, unconsciously smiling, “‘Cause I don’t want some neighbour makin’ a racket when I get home from work, y’know?”
“Yeah.”
“Totally.”
“Completely understandable.”
“But then…” Simon rubs over his lips, eyes hazy, “Had to return the container. ’N so I went over one night, and she was makin’ dinner. Said she didn’t have any friends in the city, and…I felt bad so I ate with her.”
Kyle scrunches his face, sending Soap a questioning look. He leans over to Johnny’s ear, letting out a conspicuous whisper.
“Some romance this is,” he jokes, chortling.
Soap’s inclined to agree. The most romance he could imagine for his lieutenant would be a hookup in the bar bathroom, nothing more. Home made cookies and white wine dinners with the girl next door seems like a pipe dream…
“So you got with her cause she cooks well?” Price asks, smirking.
“What?” Simon’s lips curl into a snarl, and he glares in Price’s direction, “What makes you think that?”
“Nothin’ just…” Price quirks his head, smirk widening into a smile.
“No,” Simon growls, passionate but much too inebriated to make it eloquent. Price chuckles, raising his hands in faux surrender, “S’not that, she’s just…she’s so good to me.”
“So, then,” Kyle stifles a laugh, “You got with her because—”
“Don’t talk about m’wife like that,” He warns, rolling his eyes, “She’s too sweet for that. Didn’t let me kiss her until the third date…”
“So you dated her?” Soap asks in awe, “Like, for how long?”
“For…” Simon concentrates, taking in a low inhale, “Until December…Before we came out here.”
At that, the three of them send each other confused looks, brows scrunched.
“So she was dating you until you came out here?” Kyle pushes, “I thought you said that she was your wife…”
“She is,” he hums dreamily, a small smile overcoming his scarred lips, “Went to the courthouse ’n everything. Gave her my last name. She said she didn’t wanna let me go until I made her mine…’n so I did. Don’t tell her, but I like it like that. Her havin’ my name. It sounds prettier with mine right next to hers.”
“Yeah?” Price chuckles, hiding behind his bottle, “’N what’s her name?”
Simon lolls his head to look at Price, clumsily readjusting himself in his seat. He crosses his arms over his chest, trying and failing to look as intimidating as he is when he’s sober.
“Not telling you,” he sighs, “You lot would just fuck with her…”
“No, I swear we won’t,” Johnny scoots up in his seat, “Just…c’mon, Ghost, what is it?”
Simon’s eyes are pensive as he looks down at Soap, worrying his cheek. That is, until he opens his mouth.
“Definitely not tellin’ you, MacTavish,” he grunts, “Don’t want some git like you hittin’ on my wife…”
Soap’s face falls, unduly offended. Price and Kyle, however, only laugh just that much harder, practically spitting up liquor with every noise. Johnny, however, can only cross his arms in anger. 
“Whatever, s’not like the lass even exists anyway,” Soap rolls his eyes, gesturing towards Simon’s inebriated state, “What’s next, Simon? Gonna say she goes to another school or some shite?”
“Just ‘cause I got a pretty thing at home doesn’t mean you have to be jealous, Johnny,” he defends himself, “Just upset that I got a girl who loves me ’n you don’t…”
“M’not jealous—”
“No, no, Johnny’s right, Simon,” Price interjects, shoving Johnny back with a hand against his chest, “it’s just…no offense, but you haven’t talked about her…well, uh—not that much, anyway. And her being your wife…I mean, I don’t quite believe it.”
“What, gonna ask me for pictures or something?” Simon screws his face up in disgust, “Yeah, right…Try ’n cop a look and I’ll lay you flat.”
Before Johnny can ask for said pictures (let alone what kind of photos Simon had of his supposed “wife”) John nails him with a look, zipping his mouth shut.
“No, not that just…” Price shrugs, gesturing towards Simon’s phone on the table, “Call her or something. Tell her you’re coming home tomorrow. Sure she’d love to hear from you.”
“No, not right now,” Simon groans, resting his arms on the table, “Fuck…she gets mad when m’drunk. Doesn’t want me out late. She gets scared when she’s at home alone, wants me there to keep her safe. She needs me at home, y’know…She doesn’t sleep well when she has the bed to herself. Can’t be sloshed like this…”
“Well,” John smiles, “All the more reason to tell her you’re coming home tomorrow, yeah? It’ll be fine, just…call her.”
Simon seems to debate it for a moment, wavering in his spot on the stool. Meanwhile, Price, John, and Johnny all watch with rapt attention, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. When Simon reaches to tap at his phone screen, navigating through the apps on pure muscle memory, they’re on the edge of his seat. But when he taps a contact, the ambient sounds of a tone ringing, they’re nearly vibrating—that is, until the ringing halts with a spur of static.
“Hello?” A female voice answers.
Instantly, all three of them go from lounging in their chairs to leaning over the table in utter disbelief, staring down at the screen with unblinking eyes.
“Hey, love,” Simon calls, the word slipping out of his mouth like it was second nature.
“Simon?” You ask, “Is that you?”
Your voice peaks around his name, some ambient shuffling in the background as you no doubt stood up from wherever you’d been sitting before—delighted to hear from him.
“Yeah, it’s me, love.”
“Hey,” you say in response, an awed giggle exiting your mouth, “I—I thought that I wouldn’t hear from you for another week…”
“No, just…finished the mission early. Cuffed the bastards like…five hours ago. It’s just me ’n the boys now.”
“Really?” You exclaim, a broad smile in your voice, “You’re not lying?”
“No, love, I was jus’ calling ‘cause I wanted to tell you I’ll be home tomorrow.”
Simon’s voice is softer around the words, kinder. Almost like he thought the rough baritone of his voice would grate on your ears. Well, that, or he was just too drunk to hide how infatuated he was with you. Hell, the smile on his face—small and imperceptible—was almost so telling Johnny would have thought you were standing right in front of him if he hadn’t heard your voice coming through the speakers.
However, Johnny’s a little too busy to articulate that particular thought right now. No, his jaw was firmly on the table, listening to Simon sweet talk his wife through the phone line.
Simon had a wife.
Simon had a bloody wife and he didn’t fucking tell them.
The mangey bastard, Soap whips his head around to look at Simon, about ready to curse at him before you speak up again. 
“So it all went well? You’re—you’re not hurt are you?”
“No, just tired…” Simon huffs, “Wanna fuckin’ sleep, and…I wanna go to Gregg’s when I get back.”
At that, you can’t contain the flowery laugh you release. It’s so melodic Soap has a hard time connecting Simon’s monologue with the vision of you he’s getting now.
Pretty thing like you showed up at his flat, a box of cookies in hand, with that sweet voice and beautiful laugh and Simon didn’t jump at the chance? Fucking unbelievable.
Though, looking at the man now, Johnny has no doubt that Simon was about ready to get down on his knees and kiss the ground that you walked on. Literally. He seemed about drunk enough to do it, too.
“Simon,” you scoff, “Are you drunk?”
At the dreaded question, Simon sighs all too obviously, closing his eyes, “Yeah.”
You don’t get angry. No, you only giggle to yourself once more, a quiet exasperation in your voice.
“Babe,” you huff, and Soap imagines that you cross your arms, “Y’know, you can have Gregg’s any time you want…Don’t you want a dinner at home before we leave for Italy?”
“Italy?” Kyle raises his eyebrows, whispering.
Johnny does the same. Only, the alcohol catches up to him before he can pretend to be subtle.
“You’re going to Italy right after ye get home?” He asks Simon, nearly yelling.
“Shut up, Soap, m’talking to my girl right now,” Simon grunts, too sloshed to be mad.
“Who was that?” You interject, but before Soap can reach for the phone, Simon clumsily shoves him away.
“No one you should talk to, love,” he shakes his head like you could see it through the phone, “Just…yeah, you’re right.”
“Okay, then,” you laugh, “Well, what do you wanna eat? I’ll have it made before you get home.”
Simon considers the question for a few seconds, like it was of monumental importance to him. When he speaks, he speaks precisely…even if it is slurred with alcohol.
“Can you make that—that pasta? Y’know, like, with the shrimp and the wine…”
“You mean white wine pasta?” 
“Yeah, that one…”
“White wine pasta…” Soap furrows his brow, releasing a disbelieving chuckle, “Dinnae know you liked white wine, LT…”
“I don’t…”
“Then why do you want it when—”
“It’s in the pasta,” you laugh, barely able to get through your words without being interrupted, “He doesn’t drink it.”
“Oh,” Soap says stupidly, tempted to introduce himself, if only so that he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself in front of his friend’s wife. But what would he say?
Oh, hello, Mrs. Riley. Sorry, we force fed your husband weed and menthols until he was too high to remember not to tell us about you?
Yeah, he should save the formalities for later.
“Well,” your voice is staticky through the phone, “If that’s it, then I guess that’s fine. You sure you don’t want me to make anything else? It’s been six months."
“I know,” he professes, like it was some grand hurt in his heart, “Fuck…I miss you.”
You only laugh, voice sickly sweet and cloying, “I miss you too, baby. Know when you’ll be home?”
“We’ll be at the airport late…Probably after one.”
“Want me to pick you up?”
“Yeah,” he sniffs, wiping at his face, “Don’t wanna bother with the transport…”
“Got it,” you hum, “I’ll see you then.”
“Okay,” Simon relents, but before he can forget himself, he suddenly perks up, huddling closer to the speaker, “Hey, love, wait a minute.”
“What?”
“When you drive there, promise me you’ll be careful, yeah? The car’s still…fucked,” he explains simply, almost like he couldn’t come up with a way to describe it when he was so drunk, “Just—check the power steering fluid. Make sure it’s topped off. You’ve been doing it like I showed you?”
“Yeah, but…” you make a small noise, “We’re kinda running out…”
“That’s okay, love. Don’t worry about it,” he answers, “So long as its topped off I’ll know you’re safe. I’ll take care of it when I get home…’n I’m not so tired.”
Once again, you chuckle, “Got it, Simon.”
“See you tomorrow?” He asks.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow, baby.”
“Good,” he finishes, letting out a long sigh, “When you get to the airport, wear that white dress. The pretty one, y’know. That way I can pick you out of the crowd.”
“Simon, you don’t have to make an excuse to get me to dress up…”
“Yeah, but…” he smiles down at the phone, looking all too sick and in love, “Want you to look good before we leave for Italy.”
“Don’t worry about that, Simon,” you snort, “I’ll give you a whole tour of all the clothes I bought while you were gone.”
“Can’t wait,” he supplies, eyes closing around the words, “Tomorrow.”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“I love you,” he says without even thinking, staring down at your screen name with blackened pupils, “Sleep well, love.”
“I’ll sleep better once you’re home,” you tell him emphatically, “I love you, too, baby.”
With that, the line goes dead, and all that remains is Simon’s swaying form and his friends’ locked jaws. The three of them are so stunned they can barely speak, looking back and forth between Simon’s face and his phone like all of this would suddenly start making sense the more they wracked their brains about it.
“M’fucking knackered,” Simon suddenly says, planting his hands on the table top, “Can’t be too tired when I get home tomorrow…”
“Wait—you said you’re gong to Italy when you get back?” Kyle questions, grabbing Simon by the sleeve when he gets up to leave.
“Yeah,” Simon answers—like it was just common sense. Kyle, however, can only roll his eyes.
“Well, what for?”
“Our fuckin’ honeymoon,” Simon shoves Kyle’s hands away, “Just got bloody married and you think I wouldn’t treat my girl right. You lot are fuckin’ twats,” he shakes his head, climbing the stairs before any of them can say another word, “Bloody cavemen. The lot of you.”
They watch, stunned, as Simon scales the stairs, clinging to the hand rail like he’d go tumbling down without it. And judging by his clunky steps, he really might. However, when the door up top opens with a squeak and is slammed closed right after, Soap figures he can leave the man to his own devices tonight. Slowly, the three of them exchange looks between each other, all equally puzzled as the next.
“Honeymoon?” Kyle whispers.
“Simon’s a newlywed?” Price hisses.
Above, they hear Simon’s footsteps plod away, getting lighter and lighter as they go. At that, Soap can only laugh disbelievingly, shaking his head.
“Fuck me,” he curses, staring down at the table in awe. He looks at all the empty bottles, at the brimming ash tray.
“You think if he sleeps it off he’ll forget?”
“Better hope so,” Price sneers, standing from his chair, “Otherwise, he might accuse you of hitting on his wife again.”
Soap deadpans once again, glaring at the captain, “I was not—”
“Yeah, tell the newlywed husband that,” the Captain waves over his shoulder, “Who knows, might pummel your face in before you get back to Edinburgh. Sure the cashier at Nando’s would love to see that.”
“Whatever,” Soap rolls his eyes—not for the first time.
Kyle’s hand claps down on his shoulder,  and his friend sends him a widening smile.
“You’re fucked, mate,” he supplies simply.
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lewisvinga · 6 months ago
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so high school | max verstappen x fem! singer! reader
summary; in which max feels like a sixteen year old in high school whenever he’s around y/n
word count; 976
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi
note; requested ! i dont listen to taylor swift so im not familiar w this song, but i hope this is good enough!😫 n so sorry this took a bit longer than usual, a lot of things happened in my life rn + i’ve had major writers block 🙁
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
i just want to find you in a crowd just to hide from you
Max stood at the podium with a proud smile on his face. Another race won another race closer to being the world champion. The sound of his nation’s national anthem filled his ears as his hands found their way through his blonde locks.
His bright eyes scanned the crowd searching for her.
The start of the season was always a grand event. Drivers often brought their girlfriends along with them to enjoy a sunny Bahrain and the beginning of the season. When the first race of the season came around, Max couldn’t help but ask his girlfriend of just a few months and a world-famous singer to accompany him.
He thought it was a good idea. He really did.
However, the second his eyes landed on her wide smile from the top of the podium, he felt his heart skip a beat. She stared at him with so much love in her eyes that he became flustered. His cheeks began burning up and he secretly hoped and prayed that others would think his rosy cheeks were from the bright sun.
He had to hold back a laugh, a giggle even. Max Verstappen, The Max Verstappen, giggling and blushing over a girl that was already his? It was unheard of. He knew if he kept staring his cheeks would be too red to be just from the sun.
As quickly as his eyes found her, he looked away and instead focused on calming down his heart rate.
i’ll drink what you think and i’m high from smoking your jokes all damn night
Max was always the type to drink his coffee black. No cream. No sugar. That changed the moment he started dating Y/n and learned about her addiction to a milky and very sweet iced vanilla latte.
She claimed it helped her and her melodic voice that he adored so much.
It was another late-night session in the studio and the Dutch driver had brought over two iced vanilla lattes, one with just a little less sugar than the other.
He honestly hated the sugary milky beverage. He could barely stand a sip but he refused to tell Y/n that. He only drinks the vanilla iced lattes because he loved to see her face light up whenever he’d give her the rest of his drink because he ‘didn’t want to finish it’.
“Here, have the rest of mine. I don’t want it.” Max said with a chuckle as he noticed her pout after she finished her own.
“Are you sure, Maxie?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Here.”
Y/n laughed and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a pink lipgloss mark. Max couldn’t help but laugh with her as she happily took his drink.
She sat down across from him on the couch in the studio. She began to tell him a story about something that happened to her and Lando days prior. He honestly wasn’t focusing much on the story. His focus was 100% on the smile on her face and the laughs she’d let out every other sentence.
If her laugh was a drug, he’d sure be high every second of the day. Hearing her laugh was an addiction to him. He adored it and if forcing himself to drink a sugary ice vanilla latte to accompany her during studio sessions just to hear her laugh, he’d do it without a problem.
the brink of a wrinkle in time, bittersweet sixteen suddenly.
Y/n let out a yawn as she walked down the halls of her and Max’s shared home. She needed a break from writing songs. Her mind was blank and she couldn’t think. The iced vanilla lattes weren’t helping her creativity flow and neither Jimmy nor Sassy helped.
She was walking towards Max’s gaming room where she knew he’d be on the simulator. She suddenly heard him say her name and she stopped right outside the slightly open door.
“No, yeah, Y/n and I are great. It’s just-“
“Just, what?” She recognized Charles's voice and his laugh.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“Tell me! I won’t tell a soul.”
“No, it’s stupid.”
“C’mon, Max.”
Y/n furrowed up her eyebrows as her heart rate began to pick up. She immediately assumed the worst. Did Max cheat on her? Did he no longer want to be in a relationship with her? Did she annoy him?
She bit her nails as she anxiously waited for his response.
Max sighed, running his hands through his blonde locks. “It’s just that I feel like I’m a teenage boy in high school around her. She makes me flustered, like actually flustered. It’s like I’m sixteen again!”
Y/n almost let out a sigh of relief from his words, but kept quiet as she knew that he would hear her. She quietly yet quickly walks away. She finds herself back in the living room with her notebook in hand. She began scribbling across the page, finally getting the creativity she needed to write the last song for her album.
She hums in satisfaction as she finishes off the song. ‘So High School’ she had scribbled at the top of the page. Right as if it were on queue, she hears Max’s voice.
“Any luck with songwriting?” The Dutch driver curiously asks, sitting beside her on the couch.
“In fact, I’ve had plenty of luck.”
“Let me see.” He mumbled, his hand reaching towards the book.
“No!”
“C’mon, schat! Let me see!”
Y/n quickly kissed his cheek in an attempt to distract him. Fortunately for her, it did. His cheeks began to turn a rosy shade of pink. He rolled his eyes, moving his attention from the notebook to Sassy who found her way to the couch.
She had to hold back a laugh as she noticed his ears also turning pink. He really was like a 16-year-old in high school.
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ellecdc · 8 months ago
Note
can i request a poly!marauders where the reader just tends to wonder off, like she’s suspended to be in class but she just talking to one of the portraits or just outside staring at the sky and sometimes james and/or sirius follow her so remus has to round them up
so stinkin' cute - thanks for your request lovie!
~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through some of my older requests~
poly!marauders x fem whimsical!reader
“I don’t mean to alarm you boys,” Marlene started, not looking at all concerned about alarming them in the slightest. “But I think you might be missing a member of your group.”
Sirius and James looked to each other in horror as Remus let out an exasperated sigh.
“Where is she?” Remus asked impatiently.
“I swear she was just behind me...” James admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. 
“She cannot miss lunch, she hardly sat down long enough for breakfast this morning.” Remus commented mostly to himself as he headed back the way he came, hoping to quickly find wherever you’d wandered off to.
Although your whimsy and excitement in life was one of the things the boys most admired about you, it did make Remus worry from time to time that you’d forget to look after yourself.
It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, however, seeing as you had three boyfriends here to help you out on that end. Though, it didn’t speak very highly of them when they kept losing you.
There were very few moments in his life he was particularly grateful for his lycanthropy, but this was perhaps one of them.
He could smell you before he heard you, and he heard you before he saw you. 
He rounded a corner which was disturbingly far from the Great Hall, meaning they’d lost you quite some time ago, and saw you conversing with a portrait of the Fat Friar. 
“From what I’ve learned both in life and in death, forgiveness is not only for the other person, but also for yourself.” The Fat Friar said to you. Remus paused in his steps to enjoy the uninhibited smile that graced your face. 
“Have you ever met someone unworthy of forgiveness, Friar?” You asked, your serene voice drifting down the hallway and gracing Remus’ ears.
“Not in my nearly 1000 years.” He answered.
Your smile grew impossibly wider at that. “Me either.”
Remus couldn’t take it anymore, he resumed his trek towards you, and though he’d been going for stern, he knew his face looked impossibly lovesick as you turned your beaming smile onto him.
“Hi Rem.” You called softly, turning away from the portrait and towards your boyfriend.
“We thought we lost you, dovey.” He reprimanded as he reached for your face, resting one hand on either cheek and tilting your face up towards him.
“I’m never very far.” You answered. Remus was torn between wanting to roll his eyes fondly and thanking you for ensuring that this was true.
“Any amount of space is too far, my love.” He said instead, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your eyes closed and you let out a pleased hum. 
“Why’d you wander off, dove?” He asked as he pulled back, keeping your face secured in his hands and rubbing your cheekbones with his thumbs. 
“I saw a dedalian key fly by, but as I was following it, I saw the portrait of Ferdinand Octavius Pratt who was very upset because the Fat Friar’s ghost insisted that he let go of old grudges. So, I figured I’d ask the Friar his side of the story. And, well, here we are.” You finished, smiling up at him like having him find you here had been your master plan all along.
“Here we are.” He murmured back, wondering how on earth he and his boyfriends managed to land something as impossibly sweet as you. 
Speaking of said boyfriends, Remus’ thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two heavy footfalls as the sods came running up to the two of you.
“There you are dollface! We were worried sick.” Sirius proclaimed as he all but shoved Remus out of the way and took his place, holding your face in his hands and peppering your head with kisses.
You giggled and pulled back slightly, which Sirius allowed but kept you safe within his grasp.
“You needn’t worry, Sirius. I was in wonderful company.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow and Remus translated for him.
“She was busy talking to the Fat Friar when I found her.”
Sirius nodded in understanding before he narrowed his eyes at you. “He wasn’t making moves on you, was he?”
You laughed as if Sirius had made some very funny joke, and Remus laughed along with you even though he could tell Sirius wasn’t  entirely convinced. 
“I’m sorry we lost you, angel.” James said somewhat meekly. Remus knew though that he was mostly apologizing to Remus and less to you.
“That’s quite alright Jamie.” You assured him. “I would have found you later.”
Some tension left James’ shoulders as he smiled at you, sharing a shy glance with Remus before continuing. “You didn’t eat much for breakfast since you were so excited about the Grindylow’s hatching, so...” He said as he pulled out a tote bag from behind his back. “Pads and I ran to the kitchens and packed a picnic. Would you like to head down to the Black Lake now?”
If Remus’ heart grew two sizes at the sentiment, yours must have grown three.
“Oh, Jamie!” You nearly squealed, pulling him into a hug that he eagerly reciprocated. 
“I’d love that! Thank you!” You cheered, stepping back towards Sirius who quickly hooked your arm in his – a guarantee that he wouldn’t lose you this time.
“After you then, m’lady.” Sirius said seductively with a wink, causing you to giggle again as the two of you turned and headed towards the school grounds. 
Remus quickly pulled James up against his side and pressed a kiss into his hair.
“You’re such a sweet boy, James Potter.” He murmured, feeling the fondness ooze right out of his being for this man he somehow got to call his. 
“Yeah?” James asked, sending Remus a beaming smile.
Remus smiled and accepted a searing kiss from the quidditch chaser.
James let out a pleased sigh as he pulled out of the kiss and walked in step with Remus, looking ahead to watch you and Sirius nearly skip down the hall. It was incredibly lighthearted, though Remus noticed Sirius possessively pull you into his side as you two walked past the ghost of the Fat Friar who exchanged nothing more than a polite head nod with you.
“We’re so lucky.” James commented.
Remus couldn’t help but agree.
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puckinghischier · 1 month ago
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Quick Study
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Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
WARNING: SMUT! minors DNI. 18+. unprotected sex, fingering, oral fem!recieving, oral m!receiving, p in v, smut with the smallest sliver of plot. praise kink if you squint sideways and upside down.
summary: quinn loves to help you experience new things
notes: so…i don’t know what happened i think i blacked out tbh. this is kinda on theme with the request but also kinda not?? more so inexperienced!reader than in innocent!reader. idk my fingers had a mind of their own okay? enjoy 🫶🏼
request: I read a post that headcanons Quinn getting off on teaching you things and how to do things well, and that has just convinced me he has a thing for innocence… feel like that could be a great premise for smut
[4.4k]
Quinn has always been praised for his patience and willingness to teach those around him. It’s likely what landed him his new captain residency, but he likes teaching. He always said if he didn’t make it in the league he’d like to be a teacher and a coach, spreading his knowledge of history and hockey to the next generation.
What he didn’t realize until he met you, though, was how much he really enjoyed teaching.
He loved explaining the game to you, seeing your eagerness to pay attention and learn for him. Watching you glance at the cheat sheet he made you on your phone during games, making sure you’re able to keep up with the various penalties called, has him puffing out his chest a bit.
He loved explaining to you the most recent book he was reading, telling you all about the time period and the historical context of whatever story piqued his interest that week. He’d notice the empty space on the bookshelf after he finishes the book, glancing over to your side of the bed to discover the book with your bookmark tucked neatly between its pages, heart swelling when you’d bring it up over dinner, wanting to learn about his interests.
What he loved the most, though, was figuring out everything he could teach you.
He knew when the two of you first met that you were fairly inexperienced, not having ever really dated much before, but once he realized how inexperienced you really were? His mind went wild with the possibilities.
There was a certain pride he felt in being the person to guide you through all of these new experiences, never rushing you, always making sure you were one hundred percent comfortable before he tried anything new. He encouraged you to ask as many questions as you needed, telling you there’s never any reason to feel embarrassed around him.
He’d note the way you’d sit there and take in every word as he explained the different scenarios and sensations certain actions could elicit from your body, eyes wide and hungry. The second he would open the conversation for any questions or clarifications he could see the nervousness creep in, almost retracting into yourself out of embarrassment.
“I just…I don’t know exactly what you mean. You can…you know…feel that just from your mouth?” you’d ask him, voice barely above a whisper and eyes darting all over the room.
“Oh, darling, I can’t wait for you to experience the amount of things I can make you feel with my mouth,” he would nearly groan out, both angered and thankful that no other guy you’ve ever been with allowed you to experience all that the body has to offer.
Your cheeks would instantly heat, but not out of embarrassment. Quinn could see the gears turning in your head, the slight adjustment of your thighs coming closer together hinting to him how much you’re enjoying the picture painted in your head.
The day you told Quinn you had never experienced an orgasm, though? He was nearly seeing red.
“What do you mean you’ve never ‘gotten there’” he repeated your own words, not realizing the harsh tone of his voice until you looked away from him, watching your face contort into an expression of guilt.
“I- I don’t know. I mean, the couple of times I’ve actually…you know…went there with a guy, it never really happened. I guess I was doing something wrong, I don’t know,” you spoke softly, shrugging meekly.
Quinn took a deep breath, calming himself the way he would on the ice, before scooting closer to you and grabbing your hands. “You could never do anything wrong, you hear me? The fact that the fools you were with before were too sorry to make sure you were taken care of, and apparently didn’t know what the hell foreplay was, is not your fault.”
Nodding slowly, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and chewed on it lightly. “I think…I want you to show me,” you said so quietly Quinn thought he imagined it.
“Say that again?” he needed you to clarify, wanting to make sure he’s not just hearing what his dick wants to hear.
You inhale, preparing yourself to put on your brave face and finally find the courage to tell a guy what you want. “I want you to show me. Teach me what it’s like. I want to experience it with you.”
And damn. If that didn’t get Quinn’s dick rock fucking hard. The idea of showing you everything you’ve been missing, everything he knows he can make you feel? He could almost come right here on the couch, never even having to touch your skin.
Quinn didn’t say a word, simply grabbing your hand and prompting you to stand, leading you to the bedroom that was practically shared at this point, considering how often you stayed at his apartment.
He sat you down on the edge of the bed, standing in front of you and looking down at your big, round eyes. He had to remind himself this was about you, and not to get too ahead of himself.
Bringing a hand up to caress your face, brushing away a small strand of hair, he rests his hand on your jaw, thumb brushing over your soft, pink lips. Using the slightest bit of pressure, he wedges his thumb in-between them, causing them to part just enough for him to slip it into your warm and inviting mouth.
He feels your tongue swirl around the tip of his finger, never once breaking eye contact with him. He closes his eyes, the image in front of him overloading his brain. The second you start to suckle on the rough pad of his digit, he jerks his hand back, surprising you.
“Sorry, did I do something wro-“
“No, never,” he interrupts you, voice low and gravely. “But this is about you and I can’t let myself get carried away.”
Opening his eyes, he sees the flush come back to your cheeks, watching the outline of your tongue rolling around in your cheek. “I want to learn,” you look at him with pleading eyes.
“I know, baby, we’re gonna get there, promise,” he assures you, catching your chin between his thumb and index finger.
You shake your head back and forth, “No, I want to learn how to please you.”
Quinn can feel every ounce of blood in his body make its way straight to his already near painful cock. The innocence and eagerness on your face making his knees buckle.
“I’ve never…given a…a blowjob before,” you stuttered, your bashfulness from earlier coming back. “I never felt like I’d do a good job, and I didn’t want to disappoint anyone and scare them away, so I always said no. But I want you to teach me. Please?” you pleaded, using your eyes to convey your willingness.
If there was ever a world record for how fast a man can come without even being touched, Quinn would say he’s a pretty close contender right now.
He clears his throat, trying to choke down the groan that nearly came out. “I- uh. Are you sure?” is all he’s able to sigh out, feeling like an idiot because he can’t even form words.
You nod your head silently, not knowing if you could find the courage to ask again.
“Fuck, baby,” Quinn shudders, swallowing thickly, bringing a hand down to readjust himself in his sweats.
Figuring you need to show some sort of initiative, you bring your hand up to replace his, cupping him over the thin material.
Quinn’s entire body jerks forward at the feeling of your small hand covering him, resting his hands on your shoulders for support.
Your breath catches, not expecting to receive such a reaction from him, but it only encourages you to keep going, squeezing just enough to apply a slight pressure to his length.
Quinn grunts, shuddering at the sensation. “Fuck, Y/N.”
The sound of his voice, a slight whine but still deep and powerful, shoots a bolt of arousal straight between your legs. You start stroking his still clothed shaft, enjoying teasing him.
“Show me what to do, Q,” you whisper seductively, his actions only growing your confidence in your actions.
With his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, he wastes no time in moving your hand and ripping the sweatpants down so roughly his dick literally springs free. He sighs at the lack of constriction, creating a sweet friction with his own hand.
Seeing him bare for the first time, you feel the extra saliva form in your mouth, wanting nothing more than to wrap your lips around him and find out how his skin tastes.
Too lost in the beauty of the man in front of you, you don’t realize he’s gazing down at you, watching how in awe you are of him.
“Babygirl, you can’t look at me like that and expect me to last longer than three seconds once you start touching me,” he snaps you out of your daze, drawing your eyes to his face.
You blush, focusing on the bedroom floor to hide your eyes from him.
Bringing his hand back up to your face, he forces you to look up at him, the intensity of the moment making you squirm.
“Touch me,” he commands, rubbing his thumb back and forth on your chin.
Following his instructions, you grasp him in your hand again, moving your hand gently across the textured skin.
You pump slowly, waiting for Quinn to tell you your next move.
“Shit, faster,” is all he whimpered, moving his hips to meet your motions.
Moving your wrist a little faster, you’re so taken with the sounds he’s making you hardly feel the bruising grip he has on your shoulder, grounding himself to you.
“Quinn, wanna taste you,” you whined, watching the precum leak from his pink tip, tongue darting out to lick your lips in anticipation.
“Okay, just-” he shudders, interrupted by a moan, “just, no teeth. And don’t take too much, hollow your mouth out a bit, and keep using your hand if you need to.”
Belly swirling with nerves and excitement, you position yourself a little farther onto the edge of the bed, face to face with his strained cock.
Taking a deep breathe, you test the waters by placing a chaste kiss on his tip, licking the salty precum off of your lips. Opening your mouth, you take the plunge and follow his instructions, hollowing out your cheeks as your mouth rolls over his length, your tongue feeling the weight of his thickness.
You look up at him as he watches you, waiting for any hint of praise in what you’re doing, wanting to make sure you’re doing it right.
“Shit, just like that, baby, keep going,” he encourages, feeling you stop when his tip tickles the back of your throat.
You will yourself not to gag, enjoying the feeling of your tongue against his cock too much. Trying to combat the feeling, you swirl your tongue around him, feeling every ridge and vein.
Quinn is fighting against every muscle in his body, from wanting to bring his hands to your head and push your mouth further onto him, to wanting to snap his hips forward and bury his dick in your throat.
“Can move a bit if you want,” he hisses out as your tongue runs across his sensitive tip once again. “Doing so good, though. Feels unreal. Don’t know how you’ve never done this before.”
You want to smile, but can’t with your mouth full of him, so you start bobbing your head instead, slow and careful. You bring your hand up to cup his balls, remembering one of your friends telling you guys seem to like that.
Quinn jerks his hips forward at the feeling, not being able to control his actions at that point, dangerously close to blowing his load down your throat.
He removes himself from your mouth, watching the spit trail down your chin. The sight is so pornographic he almost finishes anyways, digging his nails into his palms as a distraction.
“Was-,” you start, wiping the dribble off of your mouth, “was I not doing it right? I remember someone telling me once guys liked when you touched them like that. Did I scrape you with my teeth? Did I-“ your hoarse voice is abruptly cut off by Quinn shoving his hands under your arms and lifting you to your feet.
“You were amazing. Too good. If you would’ve kept doing that for even thirty more seconds I would have come in your mouth, and while the thought drives me insane, there’s only one place I want to come tonight,” he tells you, bringing his hand down to untie your soft pajama pants as he finishes his sentence, fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your stomach.
You suck in a sharp breathe as he starts rolling the pants down your hips, exposing your simple, cotton underwear.
“Well, if I knew this is what we were doing tonight I would’ve dressed more appropriately,” you said softly, wanting nothing more than to bring your arms down to cover the exposed skin.
Quinn chuckles. “You could be wearing a diaper for all I care. I’d still be rock hard at the sight of you like this.”
“Weird, but sweet?” you respond, trying to break up the intensity you feel as you kick the bottoms off of your feet.
Amused smile on his face, Quinn shakes his head at you, toying with the hem of your shirt.
“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the thin material.
You shake your head yes, knowing there’s no going back after this moment.
“Words, babydoll, ‘member?” he mumbles, staring at your taut nipples through the shirt.
“Yes. To everything. I trust you,” you breathe out.
Quinn’s heart jumps to his throat, surprised at how excited the confession makes him. Knowing he has your complete and total trust with something as important as this adds a whole new level to what he’s about to experience with you.
The shirt is over your head before you can think twice, standing almost bare in front of him.
“Shit baby, knew you were stunning,” he starts but pauses, letting his eyes rake over every inch of exposed skin. “but think you were painted just for me,” he worships your body, trailing his fingers over the dips in your collar bones in awe, watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.
“Your turn,” you whisper, feeling the flush on your cheeks, not wanting to be the only one on display.
Not being able to take his eyes off of the smooth skin of your body, he removes the rest of his clothing before you can even blink, staring at the toned man standing in front of you.
Of course you’ve seen him shirtless before, considering he never likes to wear a shirt to bed, and having spent a weekend at his lake home a few months ago. But to see him completely naked before you is a sight you never want to forget.
Breaking the stare you both hold on each other, he moves your body to lay down on the bed, guiding you to move further up the bed as he crawls over you, stopping when your head rests on one of the million pillows.
“Gonna make you feel so good,” he pants from above you, bringing his mouth down to place wet kisses along your neck.
You inhale deeply, the feeling lighting all of your nerves on fire.
Too distracted by the feeling of his tongue darting out to swirl along your skin, you don’t notice his hand has made its way to the band of your underwear, slipping a finger just under the barrier.
“Off, take them off,” you pant out, wanting the fabric gone.
“Yes, ma’am,” he obeys, sliding the material off of your body in record time.
Quinn forgot everything he was supposed to be doing when he saw you bare before him. He could practically smell your arousal, watching your pussy glisten in the low light of the bedroom.
“Bet you taste so good, hmm?” he rasped out, sounding like a man starved.
Squirming, your body fights to find some sort of friction to ease the ache between your legs, never having felt so turned on before.
“What do I need to do? Tell me what to do, Quinny,” you whimper, wanting to know what you’re supposed to be doing, desperate for relief.
Your desperation makes his cock throb, having forgot how hard he was, too distracted by you. But to watch you writhe and whine and look to him for guidance makes him painfully aware of how much this is all affecting him.
“Absolutely nothing. Now it’s my turn to make you feel good, darling,” he all but pants, licking his lips like he’s about to eat a five-star meal.
He moves his body down yours, shamelessly dragging his lips down your warm skin, taking his time and savoring every inch.
Once he reaches your soaking cunt, he teases you with hot breaths, wanting to admire every fold and crevice before exploring you with his mouth.
Placing small kisses on both thighs, letting his scruff scratch the sensitive skin, he finally lets his mouth find your core.
Licking a clean stripe up from your hole to your clit, he grips onto your legs, baffled by how good you taste on his tongue. He dives in like he’s never known such a luxury, slurping and sucking every inch of your perfect pussy.
You’ve never felt anything like this before, the pleasure overwhelming. You don’t know what to do with yourself, feeling like you’re flailing your limbs all over the place. Moaning and grunting, Quinn can sense your frustration with not knowing how to express your pleasure.
“Touch my hair. Pull it, tug it, hold on to it. Whatever you need to do. Just touch me,” he instructs you, the vibration of his words on your clit causing you to cry out, tangling both hands into his soft hair.
Quinn groans at the delicious pull on his scalp as you use his hair as your outlet, feeling his dick brush against the comforter as it twitches. He starts to grind against the mattress, not enough to push him over the edge, but enough to provide him with temporary relief.
He continues his assault on your dripping core, not caring if he were to drown in your arousal, loving how it practically leaks out of you, not wasting a single drop.
Once he feels you’re ready, he brings a finger up, slipping it inside of you and feeling your walls instantly clench around him. The sensation only drives him further, burying his nose deeper into you, if that was even possible.
Pumping his finger in and out of you slowly, he adds a second, ensuring you’re ready for him in the minutes yet to come.
Arching your back at the fullness of two of his long, thick fingers, you carry out a particularly rough tug of his hair, earning a moan so loud you want to do whatever you can to hear it again.
“Feel so good, Q. Never – ah! – knew I could feel like this,” you groaned, digging your heels into the bare skin of his shoulders.
“C’mon, know you’re almost there. Gotta let go f’me,” he grunts against you, feeling the flutter of your walls around him.
The unfamiliar pit in your stomach grows at his voice, never wanting him to stop talking to you.
“Oh, like that, huh? Like when I talk to you, pretty girl? Like when I use my voice while pressed up against your pussy?” Quinn asks you, feeling how you clenched when he spoke.
His vulgarness made the ball of pleasure grow even larger, threatening to pop at any moment.
Quinn hummed against your clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, inhaling just enough to create a small vacuum of suction.
The new feeling caused something inside of you to explode, a pleasure burning throughout your whole body so intense you think you lose your hearing for a few moments.
Quinn rides you through your orgasm, licking and sucking every drop of physical pleasure from your body. When he removes his mouth from you, you’re laying limp under him, the look of bliss on your face sparking a feeling of pride within him.
You have no clue what just happened to your body, not registering a single thing until you felt Quinn’s fingers running through your damp hair, fluttering your heavy lids open.
“There she is. Thought you went and fell asleep on me,” he chuckles, caressing your bright red cheek.
“mmmm” you hummed out. “Think I can taste colors. What did you just do to me?” you ask him, starting to gain control over your body again.
Quinn full on laughs at you, hiding his face in his bicep. “I think that’s the nicest thing a woman has ever said to me,” he marvels down at your state, knowing he was the first man to ever make you feel like this.
You’re trying to think of a clever or sexy response, but get distracted by something poking your leg. Looking down, you notice how hard and red Quinn’s dick is, remembering that he never finished earlier when you had him in your mouth.
“Oh!” you say in surprise, drawing attention to his…situation.
“What can I say? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed,” he references your intense release.
You bite your lip, almost embarrassed. “Well, I can think of something hotter,” you say quietly, reaching your hand down to grab his length.
Quinn gasps as the contact, the most sensitive he thinks he’s ever been.
“Now I want to watch you,” you can recognize the sound of your voice, not knowing what having an orgasm did to you.
Crashing his mouth onto yours, the first time he’s kissed you all night, your grips falls from his shaft, bringing your hands up to pull his shoulders closer to your body. The friction of his skin on your hard nipples alone is about to drive you over the edge again.
“Gonna wreck you, you know that? Wreck you like you’ve wrecked me,” Quinn says on your lips, bringing your bottom lip between his teeth before letting it snap back into place.
You don’t know where the sudden rush and roughness came from, but you can’t say you’re disappointed. Something within him snapped hearing you express wanting to watch him come undone under your influence, and Quinn can’t control himself anymore.
“Show me, Q. Show me what I’ve missed all this time,” your mouth is operating on a mind of its own, not sure what part of your brain has been unlocked by Quinn’s magical mouth.
Quinn growls, hiking your leg up to rest around his waist, leaving the other flat on the bed, standing on his knees as he brings his hand to line himself up with your still dripping cunt, causing your hands to fall from his body. His own hand finds one of your full breasts, toying with the nipple, causing a sharp gasp to fall from your lips.
“Ready?” his voice goes soft for a second, wanting to make sure you’re still good.
“Please,” you whine in response, shaking your head yes.
As he slowly sinks himself into you, he realizes that he’s found his new favorite place. Buried deep inside of your heat, the warm squeeze against his rigid cock, is what he was put on this earth to enjoy, he thinks to himself.
Your whimpers are the perfect soundtrack as he slides himself in and out of your slick, worried he’ll slip right out if he pulls out too much. The ease with which he glides through convinces him you were made for him. Every inch of you, made to be ruined by him.
“Tell me how to move,” you moan out. “Tell me how to make this – shit! – better for you. Teach me.”
Just like before, hearing you whine and beg for him to teach you, wanting to learn from him, has him losing all of his resolve. He completely slips himself out of you, slamming back into you with such force it takes your breathe away.
Hearing your gasp, Quinn brings his hand down, pressing on your lower belly to intensify the feeling of how deep he is inside of you right now.
“You’re perfect. Doing so good f’me. Best little student ever, know exactly what to do without even being told,” Quinn praises you, causing your brain to short circuit.
“Just wanna make you feel good, Q. Don’t wanna take all the fun for myself,” you respond to him, bringing your arms back up to the skin of his broad shoulders, raking your nails down the clammy skin, not realizing the burn of your nails down his back is the final string for Quinn.
He cries out, not wanting to come before you, but he’s so close he doesn’t think he can hold out any longer.
Mustering all the resolve he has left, he removes his hand from your belly, bringing it down to circle your clit, pinching it every so lightly.
He feels it the second you reach your second release tonight, the squeeze of your walls as they clench around him making it impossible for him to pull out, triggering his own orgasm to leave his body and leak into you in spurts.
His body shakes from the sensation, letting out some of the most pornographic noises even he’s ever heard. And he was once a teenage boy with unlimited access to the internet.
The two of you come down from your highs together, Quinn’s hand letting your leg fall back down onto the bed, and slowly removing his softening cock from you, both of you whining at the loss of contact.
He flops down next to you, needing a moment to recover before he made any move to clean either of you up.
“So…that’s what I’ve missed out on for all these years?” you asked out loud through shallow breaths, not even turning your head to look at Quinn.
Quinn managed a small laugh, replying with a small “Told you it was them, not you.”
You turned on your side to finally look at your sexed out boyfriend, admiring the way his hair was damp with sweat and his lip was swollen and red from biting it out of pleasure.
“Well…I don’t think I quite grasped the concept. I think we need to do it again,” you proposed. “You know, for study purposes,” you shrugged.
And Quinn knew you were (mostly) joking, but he’ll be damned if his dick wasn’t already half hard again, not knowing what he was going to do with you now. A monster of his own creation.  
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sook9i · 4 months ago
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— NAKED IN MANHATTAN
⋆。°✩ After a drunk conversation leads you to question your feelings for your bandmate and friend, Hueningkai, maybe a night together in Manhattan is just what you need to clear the air.
. . . GENRE ! Hueningkai x reader | smut | fluff | friends to lovers
. . . CONTAINS ! virgin!kai, virgin!reader, 6th member!reader, afab!reader, talks of virginity, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, swearing, loss of virginity, unrealistic first time? (not that i would know), no established dynamics, fingering, protected sex 🙏, some aftercare, a little too much foreplay, consent checks, kinda just porn with plot, the other members tease them about their virginity (don’t do that)
. . . WORD COUNT ! 4660
. . . NOTES ! i’ve been writing this for,,,literally ever and i’m so glad it’s finally done !! this is inspired by naked in manhattan by chappell roan however considering that it’s a sapphic love song i’m still kinda unsure if i’m going to keep the title of it for this fic. if anyone has any opinions let me know!! anyways i hope you enjoy!!
. . . ADMIN ! written by callie 😼
Bright lights twinkle across the floor like stars. You can’t see the real stars up in the sky, but you make do with the high-rises lighting up the horizon. Cars beep and blare their horns stories below you. This sweet symphony fills the cold, empty hotel room like a lullaby. However, it isn’t really empty. You’re there, staring out across the Manhattan skyline. Kai’s there, just there behind a closed door in the bathroom. Bare only for the comforting hot water of the shower he was in. He’s there, racing through your thoughts like always. Around and around; an ever-looping track of vice. This boy, your friend, your bandmate, driving you crazy just by standing beyond a wall.
This isn’t exactly how you imagined spending a night in New York City. The rest of the boys took full advantage of the free night. Taehyun had wanted to explore, last you heard he was in Time Square. Beomgyu and Yeonjun had gone out to get some dinner and god only knows where they ended up, now five hours later.
Soobin, on the other hand, was the reason you ended up in this position. Having approached you after your radio show taping and apologetically begging you to let him have the single hotel room for the night. And how could you say no? You cared for your members, and your leader especially seemed like he could use a night with just himself. He was probably spread-eagle on the hotel bed, 5-steps deep into his skincare routine right now, and watching whatever show he’s been raving about for the past week; probably having the time of his life. However, when you agreed to give up your room, you failed to think about the implications. You didn’t consider that you’d now be rooming with whoever Soobin had left behind. You didn’t even think about how he usually roomed with Hueningkai. Not a single thought passed through your head, except sweet old sympathy for your leader. Now, you were considering disavowing kindness for the rest of your life because of where that nice gesture landed you.
You heard the water shut off in the bathroom like the final clock strike right before midnight. Face embarrassingly hot, you keep your back to the door as it opens. New light slants across the floor, fluorescent and harsh. It mingles with the soft rush of humidity into the room and claws at your pajamas. Begging you to turn, to look, to face the perpetual inhabitant of your dreams. You tried to ignore the way your heart sped up simply hearing him shuffle around behind you. Still, your blood ran hotter, building up in your cheeks and neck.
You’ve had your fair share of innocent crushes over time, including the one you’ve harbored for Huening over the past 4 years. However, none ever left you feeling like this. This disoriented, this flustered, this desperate despite actively trying to dismantle your feelings for months now. He’d manage to send you tumbling back down, head over heels, in one quick night. Just the thought of his voice, the way the words came to him so easily, kept you spiraling.
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The night’s high spirits had long settled down. Celebrating the start of your world tour with drinks and food had kept the mood quite energetic. Now, spread out on the dorm floor, nursing a half-empty soju bottle, you find yourself prattling off to silence.
“Sooo…what are you guys most excited for in America?”
Yeonjun snorts from the couch above you, “You sound like every American interview we do.”
“Okay, well…you can be like 100% completely honest with me.”
“I wanna try some cool food and drinks or something.” Beomgyu jumps in, “Like the themed ones from specialty bars that people always post.”
The oldest hums in agreement, “It would be pretty nice to go out one night.”
“We’re in New York for a few days, I’m pretty sure we have an open night there.” Soobin pipes in, curled up in the couch corner.
“Maybe I’ll go visit the Lego store.”
A sudden chorus of laughter erupts at your words. Struggling to sit up, you frown at all the amused faces now in view.
“What’s so funny, assholes?”
“Y/nnie, you should get out more.” The words coming from Beomgyu were almost hypocritical.
“You’re one to talk! And, yeah, that’s why I’d go shopping.”
“We mean, like, get out and meet people. A different country is a great place for that, especially for us.” Taehyun sits in an armchair taking a slow sip from his can, “Go out, have a fun night, and just make sure they sign an NDA afterwards.”
Another round of laughter strikes up and it dawns on you what they’re actually talking about. Your face feels hot and a pout stretches on your lips.
“You guys all suck! I told you, it’ll happen when it happens.” You cross your arms, almost whining like a child, “Why don’t you ever tease Huening about this? I’m not the only virgin in the group!”
Yeonjun snorts, “Damn, way to throw Kai under the bus.”
“Wait, no,” You frantically turn your head around to his seat behind you. “Huening, I didn’t mean-”
He breaks a small smile, “It’s okay, Y/n, I get what you meant.”
“We’re, like, virginity pals.” You stupidly bump your shoulder into his which elicits a very awkward laugh.
“Let’s talk about something else.”
Beomgyu is quick to the draw, immediately beginning to ramble on about his latest meet-up with Jeongin. You don’t get a chance to catch much of it as lips brush along your ear.
“You know, if you ever want to fix that, you can just ask me.” His voice is low and even, his breath leaves goosebumps along your neck. The words swim up and around your head, wiping away some of the haze; snapping you into a brief sense of clarity to process what he just said. You feel your heart almost sputter to a stop. Unable to choke out a response, you turn to look at him only to find cold air. Huening is up and away in the kitchen getting another drink, leaving you alone and flustered. Caught in his words’ web like a helpless fly.
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They’ve been plaguing you since their utterance 5 days ago. Orbiting your brain like an ever-present moon. Driving you so far up the proverbial wall that, once you come back down, you will surely die on impact. You’ve never felt this confused, wondering if he meant what he said, if he even remembered it. Perhaps you were driving yourself insane over something inconsequential to him. How were you going to survive this night?
“You wanna watch a movie?”
So easily, he has you trapped. You have to face him, face this, and act completely normal. Act like your thoughts haven’t been full of him; the things you’d let him do to you and the things you’d do to him in return. Act like the way water drips from the edges of his hair, tracing his bare collar, isn’t driving you mad. Wet spots decorate the thin, white shirt stretched across his shoulders. It sticks to the vaguely visible skin trailing down his torso. A pair of sweatpants hang dangerously low off his hips, you struggle to bring your eyes away back up to his face. There his face is soft, head tilted and eyes crinkled, expecting an answer. You want to shrivel beneath his sweet gaze.
“I-um, yeah, sure. W-what movie?”
“Oh, I don’t really know. I was just going to see what’s streaming, maybe order some room service.” He drops a laptop onto his bed. Crawling atop the sheets, he flips it open and looks back at you. Waiting, expectant. His hand softly pats the duvet beside him and you have nowhere to run.
The sheets are standard fare for a hotel and the mattress is stiff as you sit. You’re practically almost hanging off the edge trying to keep a safe distance from Kai. If your skin so much as brushed his, you’d be broken. You weren’t willing to risk bumping knees. If he thinks it odd, he doesn’t say anything. Looking at the screen, he’s now scrolling through a bunch of movie options. Title after title flys by. Two of his fingers push along the mouse pad. The muscles of his hand twitch with every movement; veins shifting, knuckle tucking in and out. From fingertip to wrist his hands are huge, probably enough to completely cover your face. His fingers especially, are very long, so thin-cut and delicate. It can only make you wonder just how deep they could reach. If he knew how to really use them.
You feel your brain melting into a cesspool of depravity the longer you’re around him. Squeezing your eyes tight, the thoughts barely dissipate. Although, you’re granted a small peace as he picks your mind with something else.
“How about Spider-man?”
“Hm?” Peeking back at the screen, his cursor had landed on a Spider-Verse movie. Although, you didn’t really know which one. Your head feels so cotton-stuffed, you simply nod without a thought. So he clicks on the card to play. Opening credits roll in and you fall further into the static. This movie should’ve been the perfect distraction, something exciting and enjoyable. However, the soft heat of the boy curled beside you permeates your skin like a fever. It’s no use, you can’t fight the speed of your heart. The blood rush through your ears takes up everything in the room. Eyes, laser focused to the laptop screen, yet mind somewhere far away. So far you don’t notice the sound of the movie stopping suddenly.
“Y/n?”
Kai’s knee softly bumps yours as he faces you. It’s like a lightning strike right to the chest. Heartbeat rocketing, your words get jumbled. “Wha-um-what?”
“I…Is something wrong? Did I do something?” He avoids eye contact, hands twisting up.
“N-no, no-um, Huening…what’s up?”
“I just…I feel like you’ve kinda been avoiding me? His eyes slowly drag up to your face. “Like, you won’t even look at me.”
All you can hear is the blood rushing over your chest and cheeks, it’s all you can see as well. Kai’s eyebrows are knit together in an expression that should not be nearly as hot as your overdriven brain thinks it is. The words jumble up in your throat, a 4-year confession and a week-long confessional-in-the-making. Your brain goes blank. Everything seems to spill out.
“I-I’m not…upset. I’m-Kai-it’s um, just…do…do you remember that conversation we had…like the night of the first show?” Your stomach twists, ready to eat itself up in embarrassment.
“Um, maybe…” His eyes flit around as if trying to grasp the memory from the air. Brows draw in tighter before he stills. A chill settles between you two. His face explodes in Saharan heat. “Oh god.”
The realization fills up the room with its horrible heated mortification. Your head hangs, guilt pooling in your lap.
“Oh-oh god, Y/n, I’m so sorry! I’m so so sorry! I should’ve never said that, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry-”
“No-no, you-you didn’t. I just-” You bury your head in your hands. Your cheeks burn the skin like a radiator, your heart feels like a supernova. The room is caving in on you. This wall you’d built up, a protective shell around your fragile heart, crumbled. The words taste sour on your tongue. “Did…did you mean it…what you said?”
Silence sinks into your bones, shriveling under the weight of your humiliation. You can’t bring yourself to look at Huening. You want to run, hide, jump off the roof, but you're stuck to the mattress; to the darkness of your eyes; to his sharp intakes of air.
“I did.” An angry red flush covers his face and a pillow now covers his lap. His voice and eye contact remain steady, nonetheless.
The room is too small, too hot. You need to crawl out of your skin and cool off, but the words just keep coming.
“S-so…if I wanted to-um-take you up on your offer…”
Your hands fist the sheets fitfully, you can’t meet his eyes beneath the weight of your shame. This is all you have thought about for the past week, and, suddenly living in your fantasy, you feel like a creep.
The touch of soft fingertips brushing over your jaw jolts to your already frayed nerves. He turns your gaze up to his. Something deep and unfamiliar has settled in his eyes; a darkness that bores right down into that depraved nest in your heart.
Somehow, his voice keeps calm, “Can I kiss you?”
“Please-“ You can't finish the word before you’re silenced. Smooth, honey plush lips blanket yours, like something out of a daydream. The first sensation to hit is his taste: mint toothpaste and vanilla chapstick; you have to fight the urge to bite at his lip for more. Your crossed-knees touch, bodies leaning forward to meet in the middle. Your noses knock and bump awkwardly before you settle into a rhythm. He borders an intense line between inexperienced eagerness and hesitant care. Keeping your hands firm at your sides, unsure how to move, he runs his fingers up and over your arms, coaxing them to cradle the nape of his neck. In turn, he does the same.
He unravels you. The rigid rod holding back your shoulders dissipates; fingers curl into the soft, still damp hair at the base of his neck. A sigh pulls at your lips as you lose yourself to this building heat. Slowly, inhibition slips away. You find yourself moving with an unprecedented fervor. Kai leans further into you, tilting your head back to his will, nails scratching deftly at your scalp. A conflicting pain trembles over your skin, swirling with an untapped pleasure until the two are indistinguishable. He pulls a jolting gasp from your chest. The sound which follows, you can only categorize as embarrassing. A strangled sort of noise; something long built-up, catching in your throat and struggling out in a breathy whine. Your face flares up, you wanna disappear as Kai pulls away slightly. Softly, his breath hitches. Creaking open your eyes, you’re met with a sight that almost drags the sound out again.
Kai’s eyes, half-lidded and dark, bore down on you, haloed with pink, heated cheeks. His lips are kiss-bitten red and glossy. A wet dream come true. You tug him back to your lips, a new heat building in the kiss.
You aren’t sure who makes the first move, who bites first, but when his tongue pushes up against yours, you succumb fully to this new feeling filling you up. An unfamiliar greed beats in your chest, a rabid craving for more. More and more sounds mingle between both of you, unabashedly. With every sweet whine of Kai’s, the hunger grows. Your fingers tug at his hair, his press hard into your waist. Air is inconsistent and unnecessary.
“Kai-” Lips keep moving against yours. “More.”
“Can I-”His hands fumble around your waist a bit, mouth still keeping in time. “Your shirt.”
You begin nodding without even thinking about it. Finally, you break from each other. His hands hike your shirt up your chest before you peel the rest off. You move to do the same for him but he’s already ahead of you. His shirt comes up and over his head before being tossed alongside yours. The porcelain skin of his chest lays out before your eyes. Heart beat picking up, you trace each ridge and jut and mole back up to meet his gaze, one just as entranced as you are.
As your lips meet again, they move with much more care. Something deep and unspoken swimming on your lips and stirring up your chest. Fingers drift gently over freckles and goosebumps running up both your sides. Your back melts into the mattress; Huening’s intoxicating touch burning up your brain. His hands glide up and circle your chest softly. Brushing the sensitive, supple skin, more whimpers tumble out. Your hands copy his, nails dragging faintly down his soft stomach. His lips shudder against yours, breathing groans over your tongue. Knees sit on either side of your hips, keeping Kai’s body hovering precariously over you. The tantalizing promise of his weight above you draws your fingers lower. Just a fingertip dipping into the waistband of his sweatpants. The hitch in his breath is slight.
The kiss disconnects once again as you look at each other, drinking in the sight. His hair mused back wildly and eyes blown wide, a million emotions fly between you. Keeping your eyes locked, that curious hand of yours hesitantly slips from its place. Pulling out of Kai’s waistband, it snakes atop the fabric, coming to cup the prominent bulge beneath it. Your heart stutters at the heavy feeling of him in your hand. Kai’s eyes widen infinitesimally. Your curious fingers squeeze softly and you watch as the last bits of his composure crumble. Head dropping into your neck, his moan is guttural and desperate. His hips buck further into your palm and it becomes incredibly apparent just how big he is
“God-y/n, please…” The desperation with which he speaks your name, the whine and groan and guttural need pouring from his throat, finally breaks you.
For a moment, the only thought running through your head is how quickly you can get his sweatpants off. He seems to be thinking the same as his fingers pluck at your own waistband. However, as you’re about to give in, something stops you.
“Kai…” Embarrassment floods your face, “Do you…have a condom?”
His eyes widen, jaw dropping softly. A subtle red paints his cheeks as he slowly crawls off your body.
He awkwardly shuffles over to his bag on the floor before pulling out a small box of condoms. “I-I wasn’t, like, planning on using them. Or anything…Yeonjun-hyung put them in my bag…”
“Well, thank god for Yeonjun, I guess.”
Laughter eases the embarrassed tension as he rips open the packaging. Although he hesitates to take out the latex. You eye the clothes still covering both your bottom halves.
“I-I can…take mine off first. If you want?”
He matches your gaze, moving back towards the bed, “Are you-Do you want this? Like, 100%?”
“Yes.” Your head nods before you can even think about it, “Yeah, I-I do. Do you?”
“Yes.”
Leaning up, your lips meet his in a soft, sweet kiss. You slowly take his hand in yours and move it back down to your hip, to the bare skin beneath your waistband. Then, you tug your shorts down with his fingers. Finally, fully unclothed, you muscle through the timidity to open your eyes. The pure reverence in his face nearly calms your beating heart.
“Kai, please. Touch me.”
Huening makes quick work of his own bottoms. They pool at his ankles though your eyes are glued to the way his cock smacks against his stomach. He rolls the smooth latex down his skin and your eyes follow with a shiver. Even with little-to-no frame of reference, you’re all too aware that he’s big. Standing at the edge of the bed, towering over you, he is just as entranced with you as you are with him. Any room for embarrassment melts away into an unrelenting need.
You yank him back and his lips messily onto yours; tongues mingling and meshing. His fingers wisp up your bare thighs, sparking a lingering electricity. Your mouth lands on his neck with kisses and kitten licks. The breathy groan you pull from him with a soft bite sounds like heaven. Hands move further toward the inside of your thighs, brushing over your core. He fumbles for a moment before you reach to take his hand in yours. Awkwardly, you guide two slender fingers up to your clit, starting them in a circle motion. Your back arches into the feeling, head sinking into the pillows. Huening watches your reactions diligently, slowly gaining more confidence in his movements. The fingers slip away from the nub as one of them trails down to cautiously push into you. It takes a moment for the odd stretch to settle and melt into pleasure, but as your hips buck into his hand, Kai takes the hint. He uses his thumb to keep circling your clit while experimentally curling two fingers against your walls. This foreign pleasure is overwhelming and not enough.
“I-is this okay?”
Your voice feels stuck so you nod enthusiastically, eyes screwed tight. Fingernails dig into Kai’s scalp as you frantically pull him back to your lips. You work your tongue over his lips and onto his. Running your teeth down his jaw into the juncture of his neck, you litter the skin with soft bites. Lost in the pleasure, your movements feel crazed; desperate. That ever-looming climax is so close yet so far. You need it, like oxygen.
“Need more. Need you, please-please, Hyuka-”
Emptiness only fuels your desperation. Kai’s hips shift squarely over yours as his hand moves up between your bodies. His hard cock brushes your oversensitive thighs; the fog in your mind thickens. In the haze, you take Huening’s, now messy, hand into your mouth, licking over the fingers and tasting yourself on them. They tickle at the back of your throat, freeing a pleased hum.
Kai’s poor cock twitches against your leg and his chest stutters as you keep two lidded eyes on his. The fingers slip from your lips with a slight pop. His agape mouth falls onto yours, devouring your taste on your own tongue. That spit-slick hand guides his weeping tip down through your folds. It catches on your clit and teases your entrance. A gasp breaks your mouths apart. Kai’s fluttering breaths paint your cheeks.
“I-I’m gonna…can I…?”
“Hyuka, just fuck me. Please.”
“Oh-okay-uh, tell-tell me when to move.”
With a deep breath, his hips begin pushing into yours. The stretch sets in; a fire rippling between your legs. Like being ripped apart while still getting stitched back together. A contradicting pain, spreading slowly with Kai’s hesitation. He breathes sickly sweet whimpers into your ears and cradles your hands with his. They mingle in the sheets; an echo of heaven. It’s nearly enough to distract you from the pain as he bottoms out.
“F-fu-shit-ah…you-you’re so…” His forehead hits your shoulder, punctuated with fluttering kisses. “…amazing.”
Pain subsides steadily in a flurry of sensations. The excruciating stretch melting into numbing pleasure. Kai’s touch and affection; everything about him surrounding you everywhere. His heat pressed into your skin, his breath mixed with yours, your hearts beating in tandem as you join completely. You are full of him, of love for him, of need for him. Like you’ve pushed all the air out of your body to make more room for him. Every part of you yearns for everything he has to give.
“Kai-god-” You gasp out. “Y-you can move.”
Shakily, he draws his hips back. You feel every ridge and vein run along inside you. And when he pushes back in, your chests shudder in unison; moans and groans filling the hotel room. He continues slowly; falling into overwhelming pleasure. It muddles your thoughts and weighs down your tongue. And—when Kai’s sloppy thrusts settle into an eager, consistent pace—it numbs your mind in ecstasy.
The room devolves into heady grunts and sharp whines echoing in your ears. A mantra of his name builds—a plead, an oath, a prayer—spilling from your heart, coating your lips. Huening answers the call, swallowing your desperation with his own. You lose yourselves in each other. In the heat of your skin and lips meeting recklessly again and again. You need him closer, deeper; filling up your lungs and pumping through your veins. He wants more. Fingerprints and hickeys litter their way down your body at his discretion. His teeth sink in your shoulder, your nails scratch down his back. It’s instinctual and awkward, yet perfect.
The whirlwind in your stomach grows stronger, closer and closer to imploding. You felt yourself teetering, standing on the edge of an unfamiliar precipice. With his breath and pace picking up, it seemed Kai was right there as well. His hand detached from its bruising placement on your hip. Moving his thumb over your clit in deft circles, an extra jolt of pleasure arcs up your spine.
“K-kai, there-please, please, please.” His name tumbles out in whimpers, as does to yours from his lips.
“F-fuck-close-I’m-” A shudder runs through his body, his pace becoming sloppy and erratic. His finger keeps tight to your clit. Your lips clash as the bubble between you pops.
White explodes behind your eyelids. Mind-numbing pleasure fills your every limb. You’re floating on bliss like you’ve never experienced and everything else falls away. Except for Kai. He surrounds you, he fills your lungs and makes you whole. His weak whimpers and moans trail off in your ears like the sounds of heaven. His hips keep moving, stopping jerkily as pleasure seeps into overstimulation. Kai’s arms buckle trying to keep his full body weight off you. He rolls off of you, landing on his back.
Silence fills the air in the aftermath. You exchange heavy breaths, staring off at the ceiling. As the high slowly fades, so does the fog in your head. Realization settles sharp in your bones. Dread and elation stir in your stomach, brewing a dangerous cocktail of words.
“I like you.”
Huening sits up a little, “Huh?”
“I…god, I’m so sorry-” You pull yourself up and look back down at the man, turning the words over in your head until they spill out. “Kai, I really really like you…I have for the past 4 years! And I know this is probably a horrible time to be saying this, but I just…I don’t want this to ruin us or-or the group and I-”
“Y/n! Y/n…” He pulls your hands into his. A bright smile splits his cheeks, shining on your face. “I really like you too.”
Air collapses in your chest, soft and scared. “…R-really?”
His eyes shine and melt into raspberry cheeks with an eager nod. “I didn't mean for it to come out like this, but…”
“Maybe you should get tipsy more often.” Both of you spill over with giddy giggles. A brand new kind of ecstasy fills up your chest, beating in time with Kai’s heart.
“Maybe…”
Your heartbeat speeds, building with each passing second as you look at Huening. Sweet chocolate eyes you could drink in, overindulge, and just never stop. And they look right back at you with the same adoration that’s pumping through your veins.
“I’ll, uh, go get a towel so we can clean up.” Kai shifts off bed, disappearing into the bathroom to discard the condom. He returns with a warm towel, as promised, and begins to gently wipe up your thighs, staying cautious around your still-sensitive folds. The heat soothes some of the worse marks littering your skin, combined with Kai’s delicate kisses over them.
After he works his way up, he ends with your lips. You move in harmony, swapping sweet giggly pecks, fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces. The way his hands cradle your cheeks—all encompassing, trapping their heat—feels like home. Neither of you can contain the joy flooding your faces with huge smiles. They remain even as he pulls away.
“Can we still finish that movie?”
“Sure, hyuka.”
Peace fills the space between you. Love wrapping around and around, building and keeping you safe in its embrace. The world melts away leaving only this room, this moment, the breaths shared between you, the heat of your bare skin melding into his. Curling together beneath the sheets, you bask in it; this revelation of reciprocated love. For a moment, nothing exists beyond you and Kai among the Manhattan skyline.
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ham1lton · 5 months ago
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semi charmed kinda life!
pairings: jenson button x driver!reader.
warnings: smut at the end. please don’t say i didn’t warn you.
summary: simple story. girl meets boy. boy is her older brother’s best friend. boy is off limits. then boy sees her all sweaty post race. you know the rest.
author’s note: quick request! i combined two requests into one :) wrote this on the train and i’m home now! hope u all enjoy <3 it’s very long :(
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jenson didn’t consider himself to be easily distracted. when he was younger, absolutely. if a pretty girl winked at him or he saw a gorgeous vintage car, it could easily turn his head. yet, now he was in his forties, he liked to think he was pretty indestructible.
jenson knew you, of course he did. he was best friends with your older brother. they had met as they both karted when they were younger and when your brother had decided he wanted to go to university and have a normal job, they had kept the friendship going.
however, he didn’t interact with you a lot. he only knew you as the determined kid who drove circles around your brother.
that was all he knew, that you were really good and really busy. you lived up to your hype as you eventually became the first female f1 driver to win a championship. you didn’t race at the same time as jenson did, as there was a noticeable age gap between the two of you, and now as you’re nearing your late twenties, you’re also reaching your peak.
you easily land first place as you take off your helmet and shake your hair free. you smile and hug your team as they all encircle you as best they can. you looked radiant, winning looked natural on you.
jenson couldn’t stop looking at you. it was like a switch set off in his brain. y/n was hot? had you always looked like that?
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as the crowd began to disperse, you caught sight of jenson standing off to the side. your smile widened and you made your way over to him. “jenson, hey! it’s been a while,” you said, pulling him into a friendly hug.
“y/n, congrats. that was an incredible race,” he replied, trying to keep his tone cool and casual.
“thanks. it feels surreal, honestly,” you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i never thought i’d get here.”
“you’ve earned it,” jenson said, meaning every word. “you’ve always been talented.”
“coming from you, that means a lot.” you said, your eyes sparkling with gratitude and … something else? but before he can think too hard, it’s gone and your assistant is by your shoulder. you look apologetic as you turn to go.
“say hi to your family for me.” jenson calls out after you. desperate for another second of your attention. you turn around and give him a wink.
“course i will. you’re practically a l/n now jenson.” you laugh, as you head into the garage, leaving him grinning after you like a little kid again.
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later that evening, jenson found himself at the hotel bar, nursing a drink. it wasn’t as strong as he’d usually like it but it was enough.
the place was buzzing with post-race energy, filled with drivers, team members, and fans celebrating the day's events. he glanced around, half-expecting to see you among the revellers. just as he took another sip, you walked in, and he nearly choked on his drink.
you looked incredible. gone was the racing suit, replaced by a sleek dress that hugged your curves perfectly. your hair was styled effortlessly, and the confidence you exuded was even more noticeable now. you scanned the room, your eyes landing on jenson. a smile spread across your face as you made your way over.
"jenson, hi. mind if i join you?" you asked, your voice carrying over the noise of the bar.
"sure, please," he replied, hoping he sounded more composed than he felt.
you took the seat next to him, ordering a drink. he noticed you didn’t get an alcoholic one. "crazy day, huh?"
"definitely. you were amazing out there," jenson said, unable to keep the admiration out of his voice.
"thanks. it still feels like a dream," you said, your eyes meeting his.
for a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you, the kind that speaks volumes. jenson felt a rush of nerves, something he hadn't experienced in a long time. he was used to being in control, but you had a way of making him feel like a teenager with a crush.
"so, what's next for you?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation going. he turns towards you.
"celebrate tonight, then back to training tomorrow," you replied, laughing softly. "no rest for the wicked."
“i don’t miss that part.” he laughs, taking another sip and not ignoring the way your eyes watch him.
“what about you? mr button.” you say, crossing your legs. “what’s next for you?”
“now my racing days are behind me?” you nod. “commentating, business, mentoring and a bunch of other things. trying a bit of everything before i die.”
“sounds like you have your hands full.” you raise an eyebrow. “still, i bet you miss the track.”
“every day,” he admitted. “but it’s also nice to watch the next generation take over. like you.”
“you like watching me?”
“who doesn’t?” jenson smiles ruefully, like a kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
you finished your drink quickly, and looked at your watch. you sigh. jenson’s heart sank slightly, wanting to keep the conversation going.
“i suppose i should get some rest. early day tomorrow.”
“oh, yeah, of course. don’t want to keep you up.”
“unless, would you like to join me?”
his pulse quickened as you looked at him. he smiled.
“i’d like that.”
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you kissed as well as you drove. firmly, and in control. weird analogy but jenson’s brain was always in driving mode, even as you slid your hand into his pants. okay, maybe not then.
you grin into the kiss as he holds you tighter. he runs a hand through your hair as your hands encircle him. he breaks the kiss as he stands back for a second and wipes off your smeared lipgloss, he kisses you again enthusiastically as your grip on him tightens.
“god, you’re fucking gorgeous.” he moans as you stroke him.
“yeah?” you break the kiss to help him get undressed and for a moment, you enjoy the contrast of your clothed self versus his nakedness. “you thought about this?”
“maybe.” he has the audacity to look slightly sheepish as if that isn’t the hottest thing he could have said to you. your childhood crush is in front of you, admitting that he thinks you’re hot and that he’s fantasised about you. you drop to your knees as he gently puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail with his hand. the response he gives as you go down on him is more than enough to have your legs pressing together.
“wait! wait.” he says, breathlessly. you stop and look up at him with curious eyes. “i’m gonna cum if you continue. don’t have the same refractory period as i did when i was younger sweetheart. let me return the favour, yeah?”
you smile, all innocence, as your brother’s best friend peels the dress that you were wearing off your body. thank god you had prepared for this opportunity, you had worn your sexiest lingerie in the chance that this happened tonight. jenson kisses you harder, and you know he likes it.
after a moment, he’s between your legs and what’s left of your makeup is smudged. you’re at least seventy percent sure that your mascara has left your eyelashes and moved all over your cheeks. he’s gently pressing kisses to your clit through your panties, which are already wet with your arousal. he starts to lick at you slowly, through the material. he continues for a while, tongue pressed against you as you languidly grind your hips against his face. but it isn’t enough.
“jenson, please do something.” you cry out.
“i am doing something.” he smiles, faux innocence plastered all over his handsome face. he presses a finger against you, and removes it covered in your arousal. “she clearly likes it.”
“do it properly.”
“say the magic word, miss race winner.”
“please.” you sob. “please, please, please! is that good enough for you?”
“i was going to get you off regardless sweetheart.” jenson grins and you want to smack him, but then he peels off your panties and breathes in your arousal. before his face dives into your cunt, pressing his nose against your clit as he gathers your juices with his tongue. he enters a finger to stretch you open as you dig your hands into his greying hair to pull him closer between your thighs.
he adds a second finger, and then a third, and the stretch is delicious. he focuses his tongue on your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. you knew you were close as you could feel the orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. almost like he knew, he started curling his fingers inside of you and letting you grind down even harder on his face.
when you came, you swore you could see stars.
jenson lets you ride his face through the aftershocks, and then he looks up at you, grinning, his chin still wet with your arousal.
“told you you’d cum.”
“yeah, yeah.” you wave him off breathlessly. “let me get you off.”
“i’m an easy man.” jenson shrugs as he moves up on top of you. “anyway you’ll let me have you, i’ll enjoy it.”
“i want you in me.”
the burn of him entering you is a welcome one. you thank god he prepped you well, it had been a while since you’d had sex and you needed the extra wetness. you can’t even focus on what he’s saying as he fucks into you. everything blurs as you watch him, you’re more focused on how sexy he looks and how good it feels. he kisses all over your neck and your lips.
“look at you.” he groans as he fucks into you harder. your back arches as he takes a nipple in his mouth. your heels dig into his lower back.
you can feel your oncoming orgasm as jenson presses a lazy thumb against your clit and when he looks down in wonder at his cock fucking into your messy cunt, your world goes white as you gush all over him. he fucks you through the aftershocks until he finds his own orgasm, body collapsing onto yours as you hold him close, stroking his sweaty hair.
“you okay? was that good for you?” you ask after a moment. he laughs breathlessly.
“you couldn’t be bad for me. i could have gotten off just lookin’ at you.” he turns to grin at you. “you were great. 10/10.”
“thanks,” you smile and press a kiss against his lips. “coming from you, that means a lot.”
his laughter rumbles through his chest and you can feel the vibrations. you can’t help but laugh too.
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liked by bestie, ynswifey and 1,293,902 others.
yourusername: what’s better than one world champion? two.
view all 234,937 comments
user1: WHAT THE FUCK
user2: I CALLED IT
user3: mommy and daddy.
-> user7: all these bitches are their sons fr
user4: threesome perhaps? :)
-> user9: i need them both carnally.
user12: omggggg bagging her childhood crush AND another championship. yn ur MY goat.
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taglist: @23victoria @c-losur3 @imsiriuslyreal @f1withleire @kamabokogonpachro @sya-skies @dark-night-sky-99 @handsupforamiracle @lichterfee @namgification
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merakiui · 14 days ago
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the symptoms of being human.
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jade leech x (gender neutral) reader note - being human comes with its fair share of very specific symptoms. or: jade has lived in saltwater his entire life. never has it leaked out of him before. // HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MY BIRTHDAY BESTIE @heyyy11!!!!!! 🎉 many wonderful wishes of health, happiness, and good fortune for you!!!! :D it isn't a lot, but please enjoy this little gift i prepared in celebration!!!
But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.
A long time ago, a human penned that line in reference to merfolk and their inability to shed tears. A fact as intimate as that couldn’t have possibly been common knowledge amongst humans, or so Jade assumed every time the story was regurgitated at bedtime. He always did that: apply logic to areas where logic wasn’t needed. His teachers used to tell him, “Jade, sometimes you need to suspend your disbelief in order to immerse yourself in a fictional world.” He could try—and try he did—but he’d find himself lingering on that quote every time.
A slight amendment to that: merfolk can cry and they do suffer, but whether they suffer more is impossible to know without further study.
Jade operates under the notion that there are explanations for everything, even the wildest of lunacy. There is comfort in comprehension. He would spend hours holed up in his sleeping nook, poring over stories and texts on humans and beastfolk. He would compare and contrast them. Can a tearless cry indicate the amount of suffering per species, or is such an abstract concept even remotely quantifiable? Perhaps it is because merfolk cry silently that they suffer. Because there is no one who can hear their weeping in the deep sea. Because there is no physical proof.
It’s easier to recognize the physical signs of grief, for what happens within is shrouded in secrecy, veiled in the depths of the heart.
So when Jade comes onto land for the first time, human skin stretched over a skeleton altered with a potion, every inch awkward and aching, the sea leaks out of his pores. He feels like a pufferfish not yet expanded but on the verge of bloating, deflated and weak, salt still spilling. And he knows it’s salt because he swipes two fingers under his armpit and brings them to his mouth to taste. It’s saltwater.
He later learns, while sitting in Professor Crewel’s class and listening to him drone on about anatomy, that this is the phenomenon known as sweating. Jade sweats when he exerts himself, when his body temperature rises degrees over what’s internally comfortable and he needs to cool down, when he ingests something spicy, when he’s sick with a fever, when he’s stressed… It’s a fascinating facet of human biology he was previously unaware of.
Azul called these peculiarities “symptoms of being human,” and what intriguing symptoms they are! He hopes to experience even more as he completes his education on land, regardless of how troublesome they might be.
Having a symptom of something implies the affected is ill in some way—as if humanity itself is an illness and this human body serves as more of a hindrance than help. Jade will forever be an eel merman, and this body is just a clever cloak crafted to make his life on land habitable. Although there are moments where he thinks his original form would suit a certain task. Like swimming or any sport in the water, really. But he likes to struggle and fail, learning from every human mistake.
These symptoms are not terrible. Not to him, at least.
He meets you in the woods. You’re hunched over the ground, patting a compact lump of freshly disturbed soil. A burial, he thinks, but then he’s not certain. When you fashion a little marker out of sticks and ribbons, it occurs to him that he was right.
“Hello to you, too,” you say, turning to glance at him.
There’s something that stills in the air. A feeling catches and tugs at his heart. He can’t explain it—still can’t even to this day—but something trickles out of his eyes then. A droplet of water and then another and then more until silent streams are falling thick. He blinks until his once-blurry vision clears, only to find you’re looking at him fully now.
Jade gathers the wetness on his fingertips and licks curiously. Salt.
Horrifyingly, he’s sweating from his eyes.
He doesn’t panic. A grotesque part of him wants to know what else these eyes are capable of in this body. 
You draw in breath through your lips. A gasp. “Oh! Are you all right?”
He nods because even if his brain doesn’t understand it yet his heart does.
You are the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.
This isn’t fiction, and he doesn’t have to pretend to accept it as his temporary reality just to enjoy the story it promises. He knows. His heart—the eel-mer heart—knows. This salt is a symptom of being human, but a symptom of being a mer is that there is the strongest sixth sense for finding one’s other half.
“Are you sure?” you press, rising to your feet, digging through your bag for tissue. “You’re crying!”
He blinks back at you. I’m…crying.
He’s not sweating. He’s crying.
“Forgive me,” he says even though he knows there’s nothing to apologize for. “My eyes must not be working today.”
A sympathetic smile spreads on your face. “Did you come here with anyone?”
He shakes his head and explains rather simply that he’s come on account of club business. “I’m the only member in my club,” he elaborates unnecessarily, “and so I often come here to hike and forage. I suppose I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone on this route.”
“Club? You’re a student?” Before he has a chance to respond, you add, “No way! What school? I’m from Royal Sword.”
“Night Raven.”
“Whoa! That’s so cool. I’ve heard lots about that school. Oh, sorry, I’m totally chatting your ear off. If it’s not an issue, would you like to walk back together? Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m just worried about you.”
The affable conversation was so smooth Jade almost forgot he’s been leaking—crying—the entire time.
“Why would you be worried? I assure you there’s nothing in this forest that could harm me,” he says, holding a hand over his heart.
As if it isn’t the woods that might hurt him but, rather, the person standing in front of him. He has never felt any need to protect his heart, but now he thinks he must. If he’s to offer it to you in the future, he wants to do so when it is perfectly whole and packed full of happiness.
“Um… Well, I just don’t want you to do anything…harmful,” you say, stringing the words together awkwardly. “People care about you. They’d miss you.”
He glances past you at the burial. Just above, a nest of baby birds chirp noisily. He understands now.
“As it happens, I’m currently quite content.”
“You are?”
He tilts his head at you and smiles, teary-eyed and most likely red in the face.
“I am. Very much so. I’ve experienced another human symptom. I couldn’t be any happier.”
You exhale a quiet, semi-amused breath. “I’m glad.” Your hand is held out next. “I’m (Name). It’s nice to meet you.”
His webless, clawless hand closes around yours. “Jade Leech,” he greets.
— — —
“You look good,” Floyd compliments, watching Jade fuss over himself in the mirror. “Shrimpy’ll think so. And Mama. Pops, too.”
“So everyone,” he replies smartly, his hands shaking as he smooths the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit. They reach for the jewelry strung around his neck. He’s wearing his mother’s pearls. Tradition and memory are twined throughout each one. For every hand that holds this chain, a new pearl will be added. It has been in his family for ages. After today, he’ll add his and the necklace will be a pearl longer.
He feels like he needs to pace up and down a mountain. Like he needs to strip this seaweed-esque suit off and jump into the ocean to feel free of constriction. Clothes are always so…unique. That’s the word he chooses to use. Another symptom, he’s certain, because clothes are to humans as colors are to merfolk. Humans attract each other with fashion styles just as mers flash colors and patterns at those they intend to charm.
“Everyone,” Floyd echoes, grinning to ease the tension. “C’mon. You know everything’s gonna be fine.”
Logically, Jade is aware of that. There were rehearsals and lists and triple-checks. Everything is in order. He’s ready. You’re ready. Illogically, he thinks he’s about to shake out of his skin from either excitement or anxiety or a combination of both.
Floyd’s hand comes down upon his shoulder. He relaxes beneath the squeeze. “You got this.”
“I do,” he whispers, turning away from the mirror with a smile.
He waits for you at the altar. A feeling he knows well enough claws at the back of his eyes. It’s been steadily encroaching since this morning, or perhaps it’s always been there ever since he first met you.
When he sees you, his world comes together and everything is warm and wonderful. There are tears on his face, tracking down his cheeks in hot streaks. It’s not embarrassing even though, somewhat flustered, he mouths to his parents that he’s simply sweating from the eyes. A symptom they’ll soon experience in their temporary human bodies.
Out of every human symptom he’s experienced, he thinks this one is his favorite.
You meet him at the front, and beneath an awning of the prettiest flowers you join hands.
“How do you feel?” you murmur, your thumbs running over his palms.
He’s going to say he feels like his world is brighter and wrapped in silk—like he’s looking love right in the face.
Through his tears, he smiles and says, “Like my eyes are working properly today.”
You giggle around a rising sob. Happy tears, he notes, much like the ones sticking to his face. “Weird. Because mine don’t seem to be working today.”
“A shame. You can’t see how beautiful you are.”
“I trust you.”
“I can’t promise mine won’t sweat halfway through the ceremony, but I appreciate your faith in me.”
“It’s fine. Mine are already doing that.”
And it’s everything to him—you, this union, the tears, these messy, complex symptoms of being human. Everything.
Jade thinks he’d like to rewrite that old quote from his childhood.
But a mermaid has no tears and so that may be true in storybook blue, but it is her heart that weeps for everything she has experienced, is experiencing, and will experience; the good and the bad, the happy and the sad.
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imyourbratzdoll · 11 months ago
Note
Could I request Jack sparrow x reader fluff?
hello, of course you can! I hope you enjoy what I've written, I added a tiny bit of angst, but I'm hoping it made the fluff even sweeter.
summary - jack had fallen in love once but had lost it. does he finally find it again?
warning - little bit of angst, mentions of alcohol and killing.
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
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Captain Jack Sparrow had only ever fallen in love once. But the love was kept a secret as you weren’t human and it was dangerous for a pirate to love, especially your kind. There was something about you that pulled him in, connected the last piece of his puzzle, calmed the storm that brewed inside him. This love was beautiful, until the day you became hunted, causing you to flee and Jack to continue to search the seas. He’d always lie and come up with some insane quest, but the true quest was to reunite with his love again. 
Years passed by and Jack soon began to lose hope, he didn’t dare stop searching for you. But he was beginning to think that maybe you didn’t escape in time or that you had moved on wherever you were. Jack is thrown out of his thoughts as the ship rocks, he steadies himself by gripping the wheel tight. “Mr Gibbs! What was that?!” His hand moves to play with the light blue seashell in his hair, at least he had something of yours close to him. 
“I don’t know, sir!” Mr Gibbs runs over to the edge, looking over, his mouth opening and closing as he watches a tail splash above the water before going back down. “A siren! My gods, Captain!” 
Jack dashes over, trying to hide his hopeful expression. What if it was you? He’d be thrilled, but he’s with his crew and they wouldn’t waste a second without going for the kill. “No, how many?” He leans over, brows raised, eyes wide and arms in the air. 
“Just one as far as I’ve seen, Captain. What should we do?” Mr Gibbs looks at him, thankfully the rest of the crew were too busy with whatever they were doing to pay much attention. 
Jack waves him off, “Just one? Is fine! We will head to shore, I’m in need of more rum anyway.” He heads back, hoping that it’s you and that you’d follow him to shore. Jack could feel his heart in his throat, maybe some rum would do some good. 
They head to the closet land, no one speaks a word. Jack too lost in his thoughts and Mr Gibbs watching him closely, the older man wasn’t stupid. He had heard of the stories, the time that a pirate fell for a siren. He just didn’t know said pirate was his current Captain. When they finally reached land, Jack did something unexpected, he allowed everyone to go before him. Not racing off for booze or women, instead he headed off the ship and down to the beach. The sun had set, and the moon was rising, but Jack could still see clearly. 
As he moved closer to a rock formation, he noticed someone sitting on top. Your hair falling beautifully as always, your eyes that were once bright were now slightly dull and the smile was replaced with a frown. “Y–Y/n? Is that you, love?” 
You nod, “J–Jack…” You felt the sobs in your throat desperately wanting to come out. 
Jack rushes forward, his hand grasping your cheek while his eyes studied you. His own tears flowing down his cheeks. “My siren, my mate. The years I’ve waited for you.” He seals your sobs with a kiss, eyes slipping closed as he embraces this feeling. “I’m never letting you go again, love. Never.” 
Your hands feel his face and hair, they stop, and your fingers touch something familiar, your eyes move from his face and land on it. “You kept it…” You play with the seashell, remembering the day Jack had surprised you with a date on the beach and after you had eaten, you grabbed his hand and swam together. You remember popping your head up and handing him the pretty blue seashell, telling him that if you were ever apart that you would always be with him.
“Of course, I did, love. It was what kept me going.” He stares into your eyes with a gentle gaze.
Your hands stay on him, not wanting to stop touching him because then he might disappear again. “It’s been so long, I thought I lost you… I’ve been searching…” Your bottom lip trembles and your brows furrow. “I love you, Jack.” 
“I love you, my siren. More than words could express.” 
From behind and on the ship, Mr Gibbs smiles, raising a glass in the air before taking a sip. He was happy his Captain found his love again, thankful that his clues for you to find them finally worked.
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x0llaz · 8 months ago
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The Perfect Pair 𖦹 ⋆° ✮
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Sungchan x fem!reader
WC: 7325
enemies to lovers, Sungchan is an asshole in the beginning whoops, stucco au, angst, fluff, conflict resolution, childhood bully Sungchan
Synopsis: Sungchan and YN have hated each other's guts since they were kids. Now, in their final year of high school, things have began to boil over...
ִ ࣪𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ִ ࣪𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ִ ࣪𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑
 It was a sunny day. The sky was clear, the birds were chirping through the wind. It was a perfect day for a perfect recess. YN sat on the ground, playing with a doll by herself while all the other kids played with their friends, taking turns on the swingset, going down the slides. There was a group of boys in her grade, huddled over a bit away, giggling about something. The boys soon pushed someone forward, egging him to do something. 
YN looked up as a boy with dark hair looked down at her, a grin plastered on her face. She would’ve had time to process how cute he was, if he hadn’t reached down and snatched her doll. Immediately she stood up, yelling at him to give it back. He just laughed in her face, avoiding her quick attempts to grab back her toy. 
He danced around her, teasing and taunting until she stepped closer to him and yelled in his face. In response, he pushed her back on the ground, she landed on her butt, with a little hiss from getting scraped. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes as he laughed before walking away, the lunch bell ending before she could yell for a teacher. 
She learned from her friends that his name was Sungchan, and seemed to enjoy picking on girls. They told her stories of his antics, how he got stuck eating with the teacher for a week because he pulled a girl’s hair. All her friends told her he was no good, that he was just a dumb boy. 
The worst part was, she never got her doll back. 
From that day forward, she hated sungchan. She hated his stupid face, and his stupid laugh. She hated his stupid jokes, and the way he’d pick on her. She hated the way he didn’t remember what he did, no matter how silly it was to hold a grudge. 
Yet as they grew up, they walked parallel paths. In later schools of primary school, they were in the same classes, leading into high school they took the same courses, matched in academic skill. When they saw each other in their first shared class, all the way back in third grade, it seemed like sungchan’s goal was to make things difficult for YN. Anything she could do, he could do better. 
And YN made it her goal to prove him wrong. Thus was born, the rivalry. 
Competing for better test scores, racing to have the correct answer, never missing a beat to show off how smart they were. They hardly spoke, unless to argue, and would often just shoot each other dirty looks across the room. 
Sungchan Liked ruffling YN’s feathers, always taking the chance to poke fun at her, call her a nerd, though he did similar things to her. He was the typical bully, YN thought he’d peak in high school for sure. 
To be fair, YN was never very nice to him either. If there was one thing she was good at, it was holding a grudge. Anytime she’d think of any redeeming quality for the boy, she’d always come back to that day in first grade. And with her copious vocabulary, she always knew the right words to hit him with. Though, she didn’t think Sungchan would be able to understand many of them. 
At some point, a classmate asked YN if she had a crush on sungchan, to which she almost threw up at the thought of. “Ew! Anyone but him!”  She explained her hatred for sungchan and his dreamy eyes, but only left the girl unconvinced. 
A boy who would become friends with sungchan asked him the same thing, and he just laughed at the thought. “Why would I have a crush on her, she’s annoying as shit!” He ignored how much he truly liked hearing her pretty voice argue back at him, just seeing her as a stuck up little princess. 
By their junior year, there was something new to campaign for. Something new for them to compete in, to prove how much better they were. Student council. After a year of campaigning, debating and promoting themselves, the results were announced at the Student council meeting. One of them would be The student body president. 
“Choi YN!” her name was called. 
Her eyes lit up, a smile emerging as she went to the podium. Her speech was about what you’d expect from a junior, but She hoped Sungchan would feel like the loser he was. A bit later he approached her, a lazy smirk across his lips as he talked to her.
“Congrats on the win, I'd say you had a good run against me,” He spoke condescendingly, but YN couldn’t help but relish in his defeat. 
“Oh, it wasn’t that difficult,” she smiled, trying to mask the sarcasm in her laugh. 
“You know, you should really fix your attitude if we’re going to be partners,” he pointed out. The smile faded from YN’s face.
“What do you mean?” she asked, confused. 
“Did you forget? I’m your vice president!” he said, faking his own joy.
One of them would be student body president. The runner up would be the Vice.
So much for an easy win. 
“YN, no offense, but this budget sucks,” Sungchan said, looking over her shoulder at the paper on her desk. 
“Thank you for your valued opinion, sungchan, but Mr. Lee said it was the best draft yet, so that’s what we’re sending in,” YN said, trying her best to ignore his figure hovering over her. “You know, maybe you could go do your job instead of trying to do mine,” 
“Just trying to help,” He smiled.
Sungchan always found a problem with YN. Whether it was a policy idea she came up with, or an event she came up with for fundraising, it was never good enough. YN had taken up a habit of ignoring Sungchan, confident her ideas could stand on their own. And fairly certain that Sungchan was stupid. 
But their disagreements were far too severe for two people who were supposed to be partners. Many meetings had turned into the two of them bickering back and forth, where their advisor would need to step in to make them pipe down. It was becoming unproductive for the two of them to work together, fighting more than they were working. 
It didn’t help that YN was beginning to feel the weight of all her courses piling up on her. It was that part of the year where school life balance practically didn’t exist, where most nights were spent doing homework or catching up on work. The stress of being in the top classes, and having to manage multiple jobs for her position was eating her alive. It was only a matter of time before something set her off. 
Sungchan always had exquisite timing. 
“You know, YN, maybe if you weren’t so behind on your assignments, you wouldn’t be so stressed,” Sungchan’s voice mocked her from across her desk. “I don’t think it’s a very good look if our president is always behind on what she needs to do. Stress isn’t good for the job.”
Something inside her snapped. All the anger she struggled to keep at bay was boiling up all over again. 
“Can you just shut the fuck up?” She snapped her head up at him, face turning red. “Like genuinely, let me do what I need to do, and leave me alone!”
“YN!” their advisor shouted from across the room. “That talk isn’t tolerated, apologize!”
“No! He’s done nothing but insult me and my work. Why should I apologize to him?” YN defended herself, Sungchan scoffing. 
“Because you two are a team. You can’t work well together if-”
“I can’t work well if he’s always breathing down my back insulting me!” 
“I was giving you advice, YN, learn the difference,” Sungchan laughed as he spoke, making YN’s anger rise more. 
“I told you to shut up!” YN shouted at him, her anger burning in her throat. 
“No! Both of you, out, now. Come back when you’ve figured out your problems.” Mr. Lee told them. 
YN groaned, stomping out of the room, as sungchan followed behind her lazily. They stood in an empty hallway, sungchan looked around the hall, seeming bored, as YN stared a hole in the ground. Neither one of them wanted to break the silence, neither wanted to acknowledge their part in their stupid rivalry. But YN had one burning question on her mind. 
“Why did you do it?” She asked, her voice quiet, not looking up at him. 
“Do what?” Sungchan scoffed, leaning against the wall. His arms folded across his chest as he looked down at her. 
“First Grade,” She spoke up a little. “It was recess, you stole my doll,” 
“Oh my god,” Sungchan audibly laughed, a wide grin of disbelief across his stupid face. “Is that why you’re such a bitch? You’re mad about a stupid toy?”
“No, I'm mad because you’ve treated me like shit ever since then. And I want to know why. What did I ever do to you to make you hate me? You took my doll, and then you never stopped hating me. You never stopped being a dick.” YN looked up at him finally. She still looked upset, but there was something Sungchan couldn’t decipher in her gaze. He hated it. 
He pushed off the wall, stepping closer towards her, causing her to take a step back. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit… insane?” he asked, leaning down to her eye level. “Honestly, has anyone?”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a dickhead? Do you get off on being an asshole, or are you really just that stupid?” YN asked him, trying to fight back. 
“Ever since we were little, you were such a prick. You were such a prissy princess, and you still are now. You know why I don’t like you? Because you think you’re better than everyone, and someone needs to bring you off your high horse,” Sungchan had a condescending grin on his face. 
“No, I don’t,” YN mumbled, stumbling backwards. The words hit her harder than she would’ve expected.
“Bullshit,” Sungchan smiled, cornering her against a locker, his hand resting near her head. “You think you’re so special, that you’re the smartest girl in the world, but you’re not,”
“Sungchan, stop,” Her voice broke, though she tried to keep herself steady, trying to blink back the tears that welled in her eyes.
“Aw, you gonna cry?” He asked. “You know what I think? I think you’re pathetic. I think you’re a pathetic girl who’s never had a reality check. I think you’re pathetic for holding a grudge because I stole your toy. Boo Hoo. Welcome to the real world, there’s more than just your stupid dolls.” 
YN shoved at his chest, trying to push him away from her, but he stood firm. She fought back the tears that threatened to fall. 
“You know, YN, you really never changed,” He laughed. “You’re still the crybaby brat you were back when we were kids. Just a pathetic. useless. crybaby,” 
There was silence between the two of them. The sound that broke it was a painful sounding sob from YN, as she covered her mouth, tears racing down her cheeks as she began gasping for air. Sungchan took a step back as She slid down the locker and to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs as if she was trying to protect herself. 
Sungchan was in shock. He’d never seen YN in such a position. He’d never seen her beyond the perfect image she always wore. The only time He saw her truly cry was when they were little. But this? Seeing her curled in on herself, sobbing into her legs, it made him rethink his actions. He thought she was immune to his words, that she’d spit something back that was just as mean, but here she was, broken down, sobs escaping her as her breathing picked up quickly. 
He knelt down a bit, feeling remorse build up in his chest, reaching a hand to her shoulder. “YN?” his voice was soft, a drastic shift from his venomous voice. When he touched her, she smacked him away. She smacked his hand away from her shoulder, looking up at him with hatred in her eyes.
“Fuck you!” she yelled at him as she stood up, fleeing before he could process.  
She ran to their homeroom, shoving her things into her bag as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She threw her bag over her shoulders, rushing out of the room as Mr. Lee questioned her. She didn’t respond, just storming away before anything worse could happen. Sungchan was still in the hallway, and when he saw her, he quickly approached, following behind her, calling her name. She heard him, but didn’t listen. 
When she got to the front doors, she saw it was storming outside. She heard as Sungchan called after her, telling her not to walk home, that the rain was too heavy, offering to drive her, but She ignored him. She didn’t care about the Rain, she just wanted to get away from him.
YN was gone for the rest of the week, supposedly having caught the flu. Sunfchan knew better. He knew it was likely because he went too far, that what he said was unforgivable. It made him feel even worse. 
He tried emailing her, texting her for the first time ever just trying to apologize for what he said, but she never responded. He didn’t really expect her to, he knew he was wrong. When he told his friends what happened, they all told him the same thing. 
“Chan, you’re a dick,”
He knew they were right, that he in fact was a dick. 
When she came back the next week, Sungchan made it his mission to talk to her. To get her to talk to him. When he saw her in homeroom, he approached her with a small smile, ready to genuinely apologize for what he said. But when she ignored him, looking up only to roll her eyes, he frowned. 
He assumed she was just playing hard-ball. That she’d eventually talk if he tried hard enough. 
In all their meetings, he’d try to be extra nice, complimenting her or bringing her coffee, but she always ignored him, a straight face plastered onto her like a mask. After a week of trying with no results, sungchan wanted to punch a wall. 
“I give up,” He said to his friends at lunch. “What can I do if she doesn’t even listen to me? She won’t even hear me out! What am I supposed to do to fix it if she won’t let me!”
“You’re really dumb, you know,” Shotaro laughed at the younger boy. 
“What?” sungchan furrowed his brows. 
“You think that she owes you forgiveness after what you did?” He asks. 
“No, but-”
“Then stop expecting it. Honestly, I don't blame her for ignoring you. You’ve been a bitch to her since you were in elementary school,” Shotaro sighed. “You’re not going to get anywhere like this. If you want things to be better, then you gotta stop being a dick. You can’t apologize and then go back to chastising her for stupid shit.”
Sungchan looked down. “I know,”
“Then stop being a dick!” eunseok said from across the table. 
“Well she’s just a bitch!” Sungchan tried to shift the blame. 
“No, she’s really not. She’s a bitch to you because you’ve never been nice to her. She’s actually a really sweet girl,” Eunseok defended her. 
“How would you know?”
“She’s in my math class. She helps me with like… everything,” Eunseok shrugged. 
“Why is this the first I'm hearing of that?” sungchan asked. 
“Because you’d make such a fuss about how bitchy she was and how much you hated her.” the older boy shrugged. “And if you took a moment to stop being such an asshole, you’d see she was way nicer than you thought. And you’d also find out there was more to her than just being a spoiled nerd, or whatever you call her,” 
When he went to the library that day, he heard something. While he was reading his assigned reading book, he heard a soft, muffled sound. He heard someone gasping a bit, little sniffles. He realized he heard someone crying. 
As he walked slowly toward the sound, he stepped on a creaky part of the floor, and suddenly the sound stopped. He approached the book shelf, trying to see who was on the other side, when he was met with a pair of eyes doing the same, now eye to eye with the other person. He quickly realized it was YN, and a moment later she was running out with her books in her arms. 
Another week went by, YN ignored and avoided sungchan like the plague. Sungchan felt hopeless in his attempts to talk to her. He missed when she’d bicker with him, even when she’d insult him or scold him. He wanted anything but silence. 
When he went to the library that Thursday, it was a little late. He had finished up his duties, and looked around for YN to try and talk again, but couldn’t find her. As he looked for a spot in the library, his music playing in his ears a little too loudly, he soon realized why he couldn’t find her. Because there she was, cheek resting against an open book, papers spread out on her table, hair sprawled across her forehead, sleeping peacefully in the quiet of the library. 
Sungchan couldn’t help but smile, looking at her so peacefully sleeping. He checked the time, and figured she would probably need to leave soon. He picked up her papers and slid them into her folder, and picked up the piles of books she stacked around her, and gently took the last one out from under her. He was lucky she was a heavy sleeper, or he’d probably get slapped. When everything was put away neatly, he turned back to her. 
He crouched down, looking at her sleep peacefully. He brushed some hair away from her forehead, smiling to himself at how cute she looked. 
How what she looked?
He shook himself out of his thoughts, and brought his hand to her shoulder, shaking her lightly. She didn;t budge, turning to rest her forehead on her arms, and he shook her again. And then again. When she woke up she sat up quickly, not processing her surroundings, or that sungchan was right next to her. 
When she looked at him, her eyes widened, looking around at the now clean table. 
“Fuck, fuck fuck!” She whispered to herself as Tears welled in her eyes, bringing her hands to her eyes. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sungchan whispered, his hand resting on her shoulder as she cried. “You’re okay, just breathe,” he told her and she shoved his hand away. Deserved. “What’s wrong?”
YN looked at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The fuck do you mean what’s wrong? I fell asleep and lost most of my work time, and now you’re here to rub it in!” 
“No, i’m not,” sungchan shook his head. “I’m just here to wake you up,” he shrugged. 
YN rolled her eyes and rested her forehead in her arms, facing down at the table. How could she have been so stupid? Letting herself fall asleep? And now Sungchan was here, the library, the place she went to avoid him. She sighed deeply, sniffling a bit, embarrassed by her tears, when she heard sungchan speak. 
“I’ll drive you home,” He told her quietly. 
“What?” 
“It’s late, soon it’ll be dark, and you have a lot to carry. So i can give you a ride,” he shrugged, hoping she wouldn’t reject the offer. 
“Why would I want a ride home from you?” she asked, looking up from the table, a frown etched onto her face. 
“Just an offer,” Sungchan sighed, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Take it or leave it,” 
YN had a choice. She could make a statement, stand up for herself and not give into sungchan’s offer. It’s what she should do. She didn’t want to spend anymore time with him after what he said to her. 
But YN was tired. And her bag was heavy. And she heard sungchan drove a pretty nice car. Maybe she could tell him off while they were in there. She knew he would be too guilty to defend himself. 
“Fine,” she said begrudgingly. 
“Good,” he smiled lightly, bending down and picking up her bag, carrying it like it was nothing. 
“What are you doing?” YN asked, trying to snatch her bag back. 
“Carrying your bag, let’s go,” he started walking away before she could protest. She ended up trailing behind him with a frown, arms folded across her chest. 
When they got tp his car, sungchan put her bag in the backseat while she got in the front. He got in after her and started the car without a word. He handed her his phone so she could type in her address, and pick the music. They got on the road, neither of them wanting to talk. 
He glanced at her from time to time. She rested her head against the window, watching the road pass by as the day faded into night. He noticed the tired look in her eyes that he realized had been there for a few weeks now, but never had stood out to him. He noticed how her lips stayed in a little pout, wondering what was going through her mind as she looked out into the darkening road. 
And then he spoke. 
“I’m really sorry,” She turned at the words. “For everything,” She didn’t speak. “You didn’t deserve how I treated you, ever. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m so sorry.” Sungchan let out a sigh. “It’s been eating me up, i needed to say it to your face,” 
She looked down at her lap, picking at the skin on her fingers. “So why’d you do it?” 
“What part?” sungchan asked, a bit of humor in his voice. 
“All of it,” no humor in hers. Not the time for lightheartedness.
“I wish I knew, I was just acting on my impulse. WHen you asked me about why I did what I did in first grade, I didn’t know what to say, I just got angry. I didn’t think about all the times I was the one to start things with you, or pick on you, I only thought about that one thing. I just got mad, even though I didn’t have the right to be mad. You had all the right to ask, I reacted badly.” he tried piecing together his thoughts. “And I didn’t realize how badly, what I did, hurt you,” 
“You didn’t realize? Sungchan you made me miserable,” YN scoffed. 
“I know that now, and I’m sorry. I never knew how to fix things with you, I never was able to swallow my pride and admit I was wrong for how I treated you.” he apologized once more, knowing he could never undo all the hurt he had done to her. 
“Are you forgetting everything you said to me? You can’t just unsay all that to me. You can’t say you regret it so much and expect to move on,” 
“I know,” Sungchan nodded. “What I will say is that I never should have said those things to you. No matter how angry I was, you didn’t deserve that. I was disrespectful, and I crossed a line by saying that to you. And I don’t expect you to just move on, I don’t deserve that at all,” his voice felt genuine. 
“Then why are you driving me home right now?” she asked, still frowning. 
“Because I want you to get home safe, and I want to be better. I don’t want you to hate me, but I know that’s your own choice. I just want you to know that I’ll try,” Sungchan pulled up to her house, parking on the street. 
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes as she opened the car door. Sungchan got out to grab her bag from the backseat, crossing around the car. 
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” he handed her the bag. 
“Let’s talk next week,” she mumbled. 
“What?” Sungchan furrowed his brow. 
“When I'm not so sleep deprived, when I have time to process, let’s talk about us going forward. Don’t bother me until then,” she told him before walking up to her house, not giving him time to respond. 
“Yes ma’am,” Sungchan muttered to himself, watching her get inside before he drove himself home.
Sungchan was nervous. He sat in the agreed upon cafe, waiting for YN to get there like he was waiting on a date. But he was never nervous for dates, Usually because dates actually liked him. But YN didn’t like him, and this certainly wasn’t a date. 
Thankfully, YN had seemed to be doing better that week. When she walked through the doors to the cafe, sungchan couldn’t help but think about how pretty she was, though at the moment he should be more concerned with whether or not she was going to murder him. She sat down in front of him, he had already ordered her drink. He was about to greet her when she spoke. 
“Against my better judgment, i’ve decided to forgive you,” YN told him. 
“Really?” that was not the statement he expected. “So, you’re not going to kill me?”
“I have some measures,” sungchan straightened up, ready to listen. “Going forward, we aren’t going to hate each others guts. Let’s just move on, no more childish insults, no more fights over nothing. From now on, we get along.”
“Alright,” sungchan nods. 
“And you have to actually tell me why you took my doll, why you did any of it,” YN adds. “I need closure,” 
Sungchan nodded. “I had some really bad friends, which sounds kind of stupid, but they kept telling me that if I did what they did, I would be cool. They were older than me, so I thought they were right. So I spent my first grade year picking on kids like a loser, trying to be cool. They told me to go take your doll, so I did. I thought I’d be the coolest boy in the first grade, but I just felt bad. They told me to keep picking on you and I did, i made the decision to keep going, to keep being a little shit until I realized there was more to life than picking on girls. By the time I realized it, it was too late.” he told her. “And i’m not trying to say I was blameless, I still continued longer than I should have, i’m just trying to give you an explanation,” 
“So you’ve always been kinda dumb?” She asked. 
“Basically,” sungchan laughed a little, and saw her smile a little bit. “We should study together,” 
“Why?” She asked, skeptical of his suggestion. 
“Well, we’re supposed to be partners. So we should start learning to work together,” he shrugged, a little less confident than when he initially asked. “Just an idea, you don’t have to agree,”
“Are you good at Calc?” YN asked. 
“Uh, yeah, i’m good at it,” Sungchan looked a little confused. 
“Well, i’m good at History,” she told him. “So we can help each other out,” 
Sungchan smiled. “Cool,” he nodded a little. “I can give you rides, if you need them,”
“Okay,” YN agreed. “Oh and you have to get me coffees before our meetings,” 
“Deal,” sungchan smiled. “So, you really don’t hate me?”
“I’m in the process of not hating you,” YN corrected him. “We have a little ways to go,” 
Surprisingly, it was easy to not hate sungchan. It seemed like he was making an effort to be a nice person, which YN appreciated. He always showed up to their student council meetings five minutes early with her coffee in hand. He stopped chastising her for her work, and she stopped calling him an idiot. Mr. Lee was surprised, but pleased to see the progress the two had made. 
Their study time was productive, spending time going through each subject with one another to make sure they both had a good idea of what they were learning. It was a lot more helpful than she expected. 
While the car rides were mostly quiet for a week or two, with only a little small talk filling the air, the two of them began talking to one another more. They’d rant about teachers, or classmates who got on their nerves, or talk about the show that they coincidentally both liked. Who would have thought that the two people who were already somewhat similar would have so much in common between each other. 
YN found herself enjoying her time with Sungchan. If you had told her that a month ago, she would’ve called you stupid. 
And Sungchan couldn’t deny that he thought YN was great. He struggled to hide his smile when he was around her. He couldn’t contain his thoughts of how cute she was, or how much he liked her laugh. 
When he asked her to hang out, outside of stucco meetings, or study sessions, or their drives back to YN’s house, it seemed normal, that this was a progression of their friendship. When she accepted, Sungchan felt his stomach churn with excitement, joy that he could spend more time with her. 
The first time, they just went to Sungchan’s house and watched a show on his couch, sharing a bag of popcorn and a bag of candy that was too big for one person. They spent most of the time talking, half of their attention on the show, half of it on each other. By midnight, they had ordered takeout and shared their food, switched spots on the couch, and YN accidentally kicked Sungchan in the jaw.
When people Noticed how much Sungchan and YN started hanging out, they thought it was some sort of joke. Almost everyone knew they hated each others guts, and now, here they were, walking down the halls together? And sungchan was carrying her backpack???? The hell happened?
When she walked through the halls, Sungchan was right behind her. There were times his arm would be slung around her shoulder, or she’d punch him in the arm. He’d ruffle her hair, she’d shove him lightly. Either this was a new form of torturing each other, or they actually got along. 
Their partnership as student leaders was strengthened by their newfound closeness, and through their growth they never lost the bickering. But instead of insulting each other’s character, they now just poked fun, made light hearted jokes. And they always seemed to enjoy it. 
It was weird. 
It was also obvious that Sungchan had a crush.
All his friends could tell by the way he brought her up so much. When she’d approach them, Sungchan’s demeanor would change, a big smile on his face that would linger as she walked away. He wasn’t very slick. Comments that flew over YN’s head that were too flirty for someone you just had platonic feelings for, lingering gazes on her, compliments galore, it was a miracle YN didn’t figure it out. 
He remembered what made her laugh, so he’d try to come up with jokes that she’d like because he loved hearing her laugh, watching her cover her grin and try to compose herself. He took note of her favorite snacks, and her usual coffee orders, not needing to ask after getting them for her so many times. He memorized the details of her face, the way her eyes sparkled when she wore certain makeup, how the apples of her cheeks got so big when she smiled, the way her lashed fanned over her cheeks, how she’d scrunch her nose a bit when she was thinking. He knew it all. He liked it all. 
He liked her. 
And damn, did he know it. He thought about her a lot, trying to come up with what would be their “perfect date”. He tried being obvious, but it was very difficult because somehow, this prodigy couldn’t tell when he was flirting with her. He texted her all the time, staying up late to have stupid conversations with her, wishing she was right there next to him and he could scoop her into his arms and talk to her in person. 
Now they sat in sungchan room, laying on his bed watching TikToks and eating ramen. Very romantic. YN sat up on the bed, stretching her back a little as sungchan just watched her. He looked up at her like she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. 
“Is this weird?” She asked. 
“Is what weird?” Sungchan sat up. 
“Us, hanging out, being normal and not hating each others guts?” She smiled, looking over at him as he smiled back at her. 
“Nah, I think it’s pretty cool,” he tells her. She didn’t notice the way his eyes trailed along her body before landing back on her lips.
“Okay, ‘cause sometimes I just randomly get the feeling that this is like… too out of character for us and we just-“
He pressed his lips against hers. 
She froze for a moment before sighing a bit and leaning in, feeling his hand rest on her waist, his other coming up to brush back her hair. Her hand pressed against his chest, grabbing at his shirt as she shifted slightly towards him. 
She was kissing him. 
He kissed her. 
Hello?
She pulled away with a gasp, eyes wide at what just happened. Sungchan looked apologetic, pushing his hair back. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ he started, catching his breath. 
“No, no, it's… it’s okay, don't worry,” she told him, but was standing up from where she sat on his bed. “I uh, I need to go home,”
Sungchan didn’t say anything to her as she walked out. 
Sungchan kissed her. How many other girls had he kissed? What did that kiss mean? Why did he kiss her? Why was he such a good kisser? Why did she enjoy kissing him so much? Did she like sungchan? Did-
Channie: hey I wanna say I’m sorry again
Channie: I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable
YN: it’s ok dw
YN: I just need to think
And think she did. She barely got a wink of sleep that night, all that was in her mind was a replay of their kiss. Thinking about kissing him made her think more. She thought about if she liked him, or if she was just flustered. And then she thought about him, how close the two of them had gotten over the past weeks. She realized she noticed things about sungchan that she would’ve scoffed at before.
The next day at school was awkward, neither wanting to bring up the night before. They attended their classes like normal, but the chatter and playfulness between them was gone, both too scared to initiate anything. The student council meeting after was awkward, everyone in the room could tell, but they remained quiet. Sungchan still drove her home, what kind of guy would he be to let her go alone? But their drive was almost silent, the music only made the air more tense, as if they were both trying to drown out their own thoughts. 
It remained like that for a week. 
YN would sometimes catch sungchan staring over at her like he wanted to talk. When she’d lock eyes with him, he’d sit up taller and then turn his attention away from her. 
At night, the two wouldn’t text as much, sungchan’s goodnight texts stopped as YN had stopped responding to a lot of his texts. How was she supposed to continue as normal? How was she supposed to pretend that everything was the same? How was she supposed to pretend she didn’t like him?
Through their weeks together, YN always felt a little something in her chest. She thought it was just joy that finally the two could put the past behind them. But in her week (that now bled into the second week) of rethinking their last close interaction, she realized that it was a little more than just joy. She realized how much she liked being around sungchan, how she liked when his arm was wrapped around her, and she liked staying up late at night just to talk to him more. 
She especially liked kissing him.
Oh she was so screwed. 
The next student council meeting was about two weeks from when he kissed her. So two weeks of being extremely awkward around each other. By now, the tension was palpable, and Mr. Lee was getting nervous. 
“Are you two fighting again?” he asked as YN and sungchan sat an awkward distance apart, still next to each other. They both looked up, looked at each other and shook their heads. 
“No,” they both said at the same time. 
“Well you two aren’t as chatty as you were before. Don’t get me wrong, i like the quiet, but i’d prefer if you wouldn’t go back to trying to kill each other,” he told them. 
“Don’t worry, mr. lee, we’re just hard at work,” Sungchan told him with a reassuring smile. “Nothing’s wrong,” Lie. 
When mr. Lee walked away, he looked at YN. 
“We should probably talk,” He told her with an awkward smile. “You know,” 
YN sighed. “Not right now, okay,” 
“Okay… when?” he asked, wanting the tension gone from their relationship. 
“I don’t know, right now just isn’t the time to talk,” She told him, the cold tone Sungchan knew so well creeping back into her voice. 
“YN, it’s been two weeks, we have to talk about it if-”
“Sungchan, drop it!” she dropped her pencil, looking over at him with a look he knew all too well. Sungchan didn’t say anything before getting up, telling Mr. Lee he was going to the restroom. 
YN sighed, regretting snapping at Sungchan. The thought of talking about what happened scared her, she was afraid they wouldn’t be the same if they acknowledged the elephant in the room. But she knew she had to talk about it. She knew Sungchan deserved to have a talk about what happened. 
When he came back, YN looked up at him hopefully, hoping he’d take his seat next to her and they could resume, but he picked up his things and moved to his desk. YN frowned, going back to doing her work, looking up occasionally to watch what he was doing.
She got up from her spot and walked over to his desk to apologize. She leaned against the table and tapped his shoulder, giving him an apologetic smile. Sungchan didn’t return it, YN couldn’t read what he was thinking.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you-” she started but got cut off. 
“Let’s talk later,” he told her, his voice even as he spoke. 
YN frowned, but nodded as she turned away. It was what she deserved, she was the one to shut him out first, she shouldn’t be surprised he did the same. But it still hurt. She realized how Sungchan must have felt when she shut him down. 
The rest of the meeting passed with awkward silences and reminders of important dates that were coming up. YN could barely focus, but Sungchan seemed to be doing just fine. He seemed to work harder when he was a little frustrated. But at the end of their session he lingered behind, waiting for her to pack up. 
She approached him with a little smile, which he reciprocated before looking to the ground, and starting to walk towards the door. Once in the hallway, YN decided to speak. 
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she said, looking up at him. She watched as he turned to look at her, his face softening to a soft smile.  
“It’s okay,” he assured, looking down at her. 
The awkward silence turned comfortable, and the distance between the two seemed smaller. The elephant in the room was very much present, but at least they weren’t upset with each other. They walked to Sungchan’s car quietly, the drive to YN’s house was nearly silent if not for the occasional small talk sungchan would interject, trying to ease the tension. 
He pulled up to her driveway, looking over at her with a small smile. “Have a good night, YN,” he told her. 
YN smiled, pulling her bag into her lap, about to open the door when she hesitated. Something rushed her system, and she asked, “do you want to come inside for a bit?” 
Sungchan paused for a moment, considering her offer before nodding stiffly. He parked his car and got out, leaving his bags in his car. YN smiled and got out, waiting for him to cross around before leading him inside. “My parents are out of town for a couple nights, so we should be fine,” She didn’t want her parents there to question her motives for bringing a boy into the house. 
Sungchan nodded, and she opened the door for him. Her house was neat, everything in place, nice and neat. He looked around and saw all the achievements of the household, her father was a successful lawyer, and her mother a proud business woman. In the shadow, YN was their perfect little student. Sungchan began to understand why she was so serious about their rivalry. 
He absentmindedly followed her to her room, looking around the house like it was a museum. He’d never seen a cleaner house, even with his neat-freak mother. 
“We should talk,” YN’s voice broke him from his daze. She motioned her arms for sungchan to make himself comfortable. He took a spot on the foot of her bed, glancing around a bit before landing his eyes on her. 
“Yeah,” he nodded, feeling his nerves build up. 
Was she going to reject him? Tell him he misread their relationship? Call him ugly? No one could ever call him ugly… right?
“I’ve been thinking a lot about… a few weeks ago, when we-” she made random gestures that in no way implied kissing. 
“Kissed?”
“Yeah, that,” she sighed, an awkward laugh following. “Listen, I don't know what it meant to you, but I'm gonna be honest… I really liked it, and I really like you, and i don’t know how you feel, so if we’re not on the same page-”
Sungchan got to his feet the moment she said she liked him, and cut her off by kissing her once more, relief flooding his system, smiling when he felt her wrap her arm around his neck. His hand held her cheek lightly as they kissed, breaking away, smiling brightly. 
“So you-” YN started, gasping lightly, trying to catch her breath. 
“Yes, you idiot,” Sungchan grinned, brushing his thumb against her cheek. “And you call me dumb, i’ve been flirting with you for weeks!”
YN just smiled, bringing him back in for another kiss. 
Around school, most people had heard about YN and sungchan, most were in disbelief, some could see it coming from a mile away. Mr. Lee grew annoyed with their newfound affection, because now instead of constant bickering, he had to listen to sungchan constantly calling YN pretty, or flirting with her. 
But the bickering never stopped. If there was anything about them, they always found something to argue about. The two of them always had something to fight over, always in a friendly competition. 
This time, they just didn’t hate each other. 
taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh , @skzhoe4life , @cheederzchez
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mrsstarkey1 · 2 years ago
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found you - rafe cameron
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this gif makes me FERAL
SUMMARY: you help rafe one night. he was in a bad position, you helped him out of it. you thought that was the end of the story. does rafe think the same thing?
WORD COUNT: 2.1k
WARNINGS: none
A/N: check out my most recent rafe fic
You sat on the couch on John B’s porch, legs rested on Pope’s lap. JJ and Kie sat together sharing a cigarette, and John B was sitting on the high edge of the porch.
“So, where were you last night y/n? you said you were gonna stay here,” JJ asked you as he got up to get himself a beer.
You put the book that you were reading on your lap, shrugging your shoulders, “just out. You guys know I have other friends right?”
They all gave you a ‘really?’ look, and you avoided all of their eyes. You were obviously lying, but no one pressed it any further.
You started to read your book again as the rest of them engaged in separate conversations. Your eyes moved across an entire page just for you to reach the bottom and not remember a thing you just read. Your mind was clearly elsewhere. It kept going back to the events of last night.
you were sitting on the beach, enjoying the dark sky and the fresh air. the time was nearing midnight, so there was no one on the beach but you and your thoughts.
you sat for about 20 minutes, sipping a beer very slowly. and you were just about to stand up and walk back to your car when you heard footsteps on the steps leading to the beach, and then a small thud followed by a groan.
you ran toward the source of the sound, finding a man laying in the sand, curled up, looking very much in pain. you dropped to your knees next to him, turning him around so you could see his face. “rafe?” you said softly, not even to him, but to yourself.
you hadn’t spoken to rafe cameron in a very long time. not since your freshman year of highschool. even then, you weren’t friends, just acquaintances.
he had a small cut on his forehead, and he reeked of alcohol. “rafe? can you hear me?” he was breathing, but his eyes were shut.
rafe let out a soft moan, giving you his answer. you helped him stand up after a couple minutes of staring at him. “ouch,” rafe held his side, and scrunched his nose up in pain.
“come on, let’s get you to my car. i can take you home, okay?”
rafes eyes widened and he shook his head violently, trying to break free of the hold you had on his hand, “no- no, i don’t want to go home. please, i cant go home. y/n please i-”
“hey, hey it’s okay. you don’t have to go home. i’ll take you back to my place,” you said softly. you were confused by the outburst, but you weren’t going to press him for information, especially in the state he was in.
he let out a breath and his hand relaxed in yours. you led him to your car, and opened the front door for him. he sat down and leaned his head back against the seat, and put his hands over his face. when he stretched back, he winced, hissing from pain.
you leaned into the car, putting your hand on the hem of his shirt, “can i?” he nodded.
you pulled the shirt up to reveal a giant cut right on his stomach, “oh my god.”
“i must have landed on a rock when i fell,” he said, obviously in pain. the numbing of the amount of alcohol hes had was wearing off, and he was feeling all the pain.
“i can stitch it at my house,” you said, closing the door and getting in the drivers seat. you had a first aid kit for all the times you had to stitch up jj.
you drove to your house in silence, though you had so many questions for him.
once you got to your house, you opened rafes door for him and wrapped your arms around his waist, helping him walk, careful to not make contact with his cut. he seemed like he’d gotten 10 times more tired in the short time you’d been in the car.
you led him to your bedroom, and had him sit down on the bed. he was sitting up, but his eyes were closed tightly. “i’m going to take your shirt off, okay?”
he simply nodded and you pulled the shirt off over his head, taking a better look at the cut. “this is going to sting,” you poured alcohol over the open wound.
he winced a little, but took it like a champ. you stitched the wound shut, and helped him put his shirt back on. you moved the covers, so that he would have a place to get under them. 
“i can sleep on the floor,” he said quietly when he realized what you were doing.
you shook your head, “no no, it’s okay. please, sleep on the bed. you look like you could use a good nights sleep.”
he gave you a soft smile, “thank you.”
he slipped his shoes off and moved to the other end of the bed, getting under the blankets. you grabbed a pillow and a blanket from your closet and began to put it on the floor. “y/n?” rafes small voice caused you to stop.
“yeah?”
“can you lay with me?” he asked, so quietly you could barely hear him.
the pure sadness and what you could only think of as fear in his voice broke your heart. “sure, rafe.”
you turned the lights out and slid under the the blanket, next to rafe.
“what were you doing on the beach so late?” he asked you, and you felt his breath on your shoulder. you hadn’t noticed how close you were.
“i was just thinking. it’s so quiet and peaceful at night. i don’t get much of that anymore,” you said turning to look at him, “what about you?”
he closed his eyes, like he was thinking hard about something. “honestly, i don’t remember. i was so wasted, i think i was just walking without even being aware of it. i dont even remember falling. but thank god you were there, y/n. i don’t know what would have happened if you werent,” he said, and you noticed the glossiness of his eyes.
you put your hand on his arm, “i’m just glad that you’re okay.”
rafe hesitantly wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and resting his head on your shoulder, “thank you.”
you just nodded your head a little, and traced circles on rafes back until his breathing steadied, and he drifted off to sleep.
when you woke up in the morning, rafe was gone, and there was a note in his place.
thank you for everything
The sound of a motorcycle pulling up next to the chateau brought you back to present day. You squinted your eyes to see who was under the helmet.
JJ and John B shot up from their seats when they realized who it was, and you did the same.
“Cameron, what the hell are you doing here?” JJ yelled, practically running down the steps and straight toward him.
Rafe held up his hands, “I’m not here to fight, I swear to god, I-”
“Yeah right, like we’re supposed to believe that,” JJ got in Rafe’s face, just as you made it to where they were standing. You held your arm out and made contact with JJ’s chest, motioning for him to stop.
“Hey, chill out JJ. Let him talk,” you said calmly, not wanting to witness a fight.
“I’m here to see y/n,” Rafe said in a calm voice, making eye contact with you. He looked different from last night, probably because he wasn’t drunk this time.
Everyone’s eyes snapped to you, giving you looks of confusion. You didn’t want to begin to explain this to the group.“It’s okay guys, just go inside. I’m going to talk to Rafe.”
After a couple minutes of protesting, they all went back inside, probably still watching from the window. “Are you alright?” you asked, not knowing why else he would be coming to see you.
He shifted on his feet a little, “yeah, I’m okay. I just wanted to see you. I had to go to the country club with Topper and Kelce this morning, that’s why I left. but I- I wanted to stay,” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes.
Your lips twitched into a small smile, “do you want to go for a drive?”
He let out a small sigh of relief at your offer, nodding with a smile. You led him to your car. You already knew what everyone inside was thinking, so you sent a quick text to your friends.
i’m getting in this car willingly, don’t worry about me
You switched off your phone and got into the drivers seat. “Where do you want to go?” you asked, turning to look at him.
He thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on the car door, “I’m kind of hungry,” he said with an asking smile.
“Me too. I know a good place about a half hour from here, if you don’t mind the drive.”
He shook his head, “I don’t mind.”
You figured that you would spend the ride in silence, but Rafe was feeling especially talkative. He asked you about a thousand questions about yourself, and the only question you could think to ask him was, “why do you want to know so much about me?”
He shrugged his shoulders, “I just want to get to know you,” he said nonchalantly, and you smiled a little.
You answered all of his questions until you pulled into the parking lot of the little diner. You spent the rest of the afternoon in the diner, just talking. Talking to Rafe somehow felt so normal, so easy.
After you finished eating, you were prepared to end the day you’d spent with rafe, which was admittedly one of the best days you’d had in a long time. You savored the ride home, as you thought it might be the last time you were with him.
You had just made it back to obx when Rafe suggested going back to your house to watch a movie. “Not sick of me yet, Cameron?” you said jokingly, with a hint of seriousness. You really weren’t sure why rafe wanted to keep hanging out with you, but you wouldn't be caught complaining. 
You handed him a blanket and a bowl of popcorn before sitting down on the other side of the couch. Rafe frowned at your preferred seating, “can’t you sit over here?” he patted the fabric of the couch directly next to him. 
Rafe’s undeniable need for physical touch at all times became very clear in the last two days. Of course, you didn’t mind. You really were the same way. You sat down next to him, your legs touching. His arm snaked around your waist, and his head rested on your shoulder.
You pressed play on the movie, but you found it hard to focus on the film and not the man practically on top of you. “Rafe?” you whispered, and he turned his head a little to look at you.
“Yeah, y/n?”
“Why are you here with me right now?” he gave you a confused look, “I mean, why aren’t you with your friends. You’d barely even spoken to me until yesterday. Do you feel like you.. owe me? Or something?”
“No, no that’s not it at all,” he said quickly, changing his position on the couch shifted so he was sitting up more. He took a breath, clearing his throat, “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s just, after last night... I couldn’t get you out of my head. I mean you helped me more than anyone ever has, even though you know what kind of person I am. I mean I mess with your friends all the time, which I do plan to stop doing. I don’t know, but there’s just something magnetic about you, y/n,” he spoke the whole monologue in a soft voice, not meeting your eyes. He gave you the impression that he didn’t express his feelings much, which made you feel warm inside, knowing he expressed them to you. 
“That was deep, Rafe Cameron,” you said softly with a small smile. He let out a breathy laugh with a small shake of his head. You became more serious, “of course I helped you, Rafe. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, everyone deserves redemption. And surely no one deserves to bleed out drunk on a beach.”
Rafe stayed silent, only looking at you with a look of admiration that he didn’t believe he’d ever given anyone before. You grabbed his hand in yours, rubbing circles with your thumb on his soft skin and gave him a soft smile. You put your head on his shoulder, and he hesitantly placed a kiss to the side of your head.
“I was really glad when you showed up at John B’s today,” you mumbled into his shoulder. “And I’m really glad JJ didn’t start swinging. I wouldn’t want to have to stitch you up again so soon.”
taglist: @withbeautyandrage
REQUESTS OPEN!!
check out my obx masterlist
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grandline-fics · 8 months ago
Note
I can’t get the idea of Killer having a crush on a Straw Hat out of my head. What do you think would actually make him act on it? Or I guess how would he? (Pretending he actually would) 💖🖤 thank you in advance
DESCRIPTION: You’re a member of the Strawhats and he has a crush on you
WARNINGS: some minor story spoilers but other than that, none
CHARACTERS: Killer
WORDS: 695
A/N: Thank you for the request. This was my first time writing for Killer and I don't know where I was going with this but hopefully you like what I came up with for this
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST
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When the Kid pirates first started making a name for themselves, they became interested in the other rookie rivals that they would be sharing the spotlight with. Naturally the likes of Law, Luffy and Zoro stood out the most to Killer as the ones to keep an eye on. Then the stories of Strawhat Luffy and his ever growing crew of unique and interesting members kept circulating and then when you joined the crew, Killer took note of your introduction bounty. While you weren’t quite considered among the Supernova’s it was still enough to pique his interest. 
It made him want to know more. It wasn’t exactly hard for his wish to come true; given who your crew was there was a story about you all and your adventures in the papers practically every week. Kid found his vice-captain’s interest in you amusing and even would go so far as to tease Killer about his crush, which was always furiously denied. It was just being thorough about the strength of possible rivals that they could run into in the future. Then the opportunity to see you and your crew in the flesh presented itself when they landed on Sabaody and all hell broke loose in the auction-house. 
You hadn’t really known much about Kid, Killer or the crew until that incident. In the middle of an attack, you flipped in the air and sailed down towards the masked pirate. To avoid hurting him, you hooked your leg around his waist and turned, knocking him to the floor with you landing on top on him. The impact was enough to lift his mask slightly and reveal his face to you and you grinned down at him. “Sorry about that, handsome.” You apologised while pulling his mask down into place. 
While you didn’t get why he’d hide his features, you guessed he had a reason for it. Suddenly you heard a Marine rushing towards you for a followup attack and threw your weapon up to block it. Quickly you dealt with them and got to your feet to let Killer finally stand. From behind you, Nami called your name which meant it was time to go. As you ran you looked over your shoulder to throw a lazy wave to Killer. “Let’s do this again sometime!” 
As appealing as that offer sounded to Killer, who was finally beginning to admit to himself after that meeting that he just maybe did have a crush on you the chance didn’t get to come up again until two years later when your paths crossed in Wano. Under the glow of the lanterns and in the middle of the lively atmosphere of a land finally celebrating their freedom you stood and watched in amusement as the captain of the Kid Pirates was in the middle of a shouting match with your captain and Law of the Heart Pirates. When you saw Killer about to approach the group in the hopes of calming his captain you subtly took his attention by stepping beside him. “You’re better leaving them to it. Those three are like little kids, they’ll tire themselves out eventually. Enjoy the night off for once.” When Killer turned to face him you smiled and handed him a drink. “Here, to make up for our less than conventional introduction in Sabaody.”
“You remember that?” Killer asked, slightly stunned. It had been two years and it had been so brief, he doubted the encounter had left such an impression for you. He could only watch behind his mask as your grin widened, your eyes sparkling at the memory, effectively proving him wrong. 
“Course I remember, definitely wouldn’t forget a face like yours in a hurry.” Killer tensed slightly when you winked and took a sip of your own drink. Killer considered your earlier statement and glanced to see the three Captains had finally calmed their squabbling at least for the time being. He supposed enjoying himself with your company wouldn’t be such a bad thing. After all, it had been two years in the waiting and who knew how long it would be before your paths crossed again after tonight.
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fairlyang · 1 month ago
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Greedy 🕷️🐈‍⬛
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w/c: 2.3K
pairing: bf!miguel o’hara x felicia hardy x f!reader
tags: 18+ smut. she saves you, starts flirting, seducing, gay panic, making out, cheating but not really (it was a prank!), voyeurism, exhibitionism, miguel was watching the whole time, blowjob, two tongues on him, he fucks you, then he fucks her, creampie, kinda cuckqueen, challengers kiss
a/n: this was a wip from last november 😀 only like the first paragraph which i used for another fic but STILL, enjoy
you were on your way to your apartment after dropping by the nearest bodega to get some snacks. you cut through an alley to get home faster thinking a shortcut would be a good idea but that was your first mistake when you were attacked as soon as you walked past some dumpsters.
you screamed as some men grabbed you, and tried to grab your bags of snacks and your purse but you were holding on tightly to both. “get the fuck off me!”
you stomped harshly on the foot of whoever was on your right and they groaned making another man forcibly grab you then choke you. you let go of your things and grab onto their arm, trying your hardest to pull them away but they weren’t budging.
you could barely breathe, choking up on pleas when suddenly you hear a voice, “hey boys, not nice to pick on someone smaller than you.”
then there’s a bunch of smoke and you hear the sounds of punching, kicks, and groans. the man who held you, now let you go and you coughed and tried to see what was going on when you were grabbed and you were suddenly off the floor.
within seconds you landed somewhere so you coughed, trying to breathe properly again while rubbing your eyes. when you opened them you saw a girl with a silver ponytail and a black suit. you tilted your head to the side and right when you were going to speak, she beat you to it. “you must be the spider’s girlfriend then?”
your eyebrows furrow and she just gives you a smile while she circles around you, checking you out? she ran a finger along your arm sending shivers all throughout your body while she hands you your things with her other hand, “shocked he’d keep someone as pretty as you a secret..” she murmurs then quickly adds, “but i can also see why..”
“how do you know who i am?” you ask and she shrugs.
you grab your things from her and raise an eyebrow, “word gets around quick out here, surprised he’s not keeping a close eye on you.”
“so you must be felicia..” you mumble and she grins, “look at you, pretty and smart.”
“well um- thank you. for saving me.” you say and give her a small smile.
“course, though you can feel free to give me a token of your gratitude.” she murmurs making your face grow hot.
“mm don’t think so.” you say making her pout, “real shame.”
“why's that?” you ask and she smirks, “why not?”
you chuckle and shake your head, “i’m not one to cheat.”
“don’t think of it like that, think of it as giving a proper thank you.” she purrs and you gulp.
you always knew you also liked girls but since being in a relationship with miguel that’s been in the back of your mind since you were taken and monogamous. and she was really testing her luck right now.
just like he said she has in the past. it’s just how she is. she plays around.
but maybe she’s not the only one that likes playing games..
she saw something in your eyes, something that told her you weren’t completely telling the truth. your body language also told a different story.
“spider did always like sharing..” she whispers and stands in front of you and wrapping her arms around your waist then swiftly pulling you in making you drop your things.
“did he?” you ask quietly and she nods, leaning in.
“i wouldn’t wanna share you.. but if that’s the only way then maybe..” she whispers and you could lightly feel her breath on your lips.
“maybe i’ll just have to.” she mumbles and cuts the space between you two.
she kissed you softly, testing the waters at first. her right hand came up to cup your cheek while you remained frozen. conflicting thoughts flashed in your head for a variety of reasons. but it landed on one thing.
fuck it.
you kissed back and wrapped your arms around her neck, letting one hand go further to play with her ponytail. you lightly tug making her squeeze your skin then go down to grope and squeeze your ass. you moaned in her mouth and she smiled through the kiss then slid her tongue into your mouth.
you tug on her hair a little harder and stick your tongue into her mouth earning yourself a loud moan from her. her hands then started roaming all over your body while the kiss just escalated. she put her leg in between yours and gently rub it against you making you gasp.
she pulls away and grins, “think we’ve teased him enough?”
“i don’t know, think he was enjoying the show.” you murmur and you both turn around and look up at the billboard that was on top of the building.
there was your boyfriend miguel just sitting on one of the poles while realizing he was caught. he jumps down to the two of you and he shakes his head in disbelief, “y’know when we said we’d have a threesome i thought we were going to schedule it like normal people not just pull a fucking prank.”
you grin up at him and felicia stands to your side, her arm snaked around your waist as she gives him a smirk, “what and miss out on all this fun?”
“plus it seems you liked it spider.” she adds and points down to his hard on.
he groans and rolls his eyes before looking at you, “well i did schedule it… and we’re all here now.”
“so even getting mugged-“
“you thought i was just stupid enough to go through a fucking alley for fun?” you scoff and felicia chuckles, “our girl is smart.”
“she is not our girl, she’s just mine.” he snaps back and she shrugs.
she lets go of you and you both walk towards him, mischief in both sets of eyes. “i’d never just let her get mugged.” she starts and runs a finger to his chest, “they’re friends, they owed me a favor and news flash she likes getting choked.”
“you’re both unbelievable.” he groans and you pout.
“so you didn’t like our surprise?” you ask and he sighs.
“come on sweetie, of course he liked it.” she says and grabs your hand.
you both get down to your knees in front of him, looking at him through batted eyelashes making him take a deep breath. “c’mon, let us take care of you.” you murmured, making him bit his lip.
he then pressed on the screen of his watch and the suit sparked away, fully exposing his hard cock to you both. you grabbed it and she went up to spit on it, you let it drip down — watching as it went down his vein on the side of his shaft and you started stroking him, “it’s not that bad now, is it baby? i just got a little ahead before you and contacted her so we could do this.”
“you’ve got a good one spider.” felicia murmured and then went down to suck on his balls.
he moaned and lowered one of his hands down to your head to make you take him in your mouth, “mm slow down there baby.”
felicia came back up and she looked at you, you both looked at his cock and got close to it. you stick your tongue out and slap the tip onto your mouth. felicia does the same and you slap it on her tongue while you both looked up at him. his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the sight and his second hand came up but this time to place around her ponytail.
you giggled then let go, going in and licking the side of his shaft while she followed your lead. you both started at the top then went down at the same time earning yourselves groans from the man.
you knew he’d like this idea. why wouldn’t he?
you went all the way down then came back up at the same time. she then grabbed him and took him in her mouth, instantly taking as much as she could while you just watched in awe. you looked at him, eyes shut, cheeks rosy, and taking deep breaths — who knew he’d enjoy this so much.
and it was only just beginning.
his patience ran really thin so he had you both quickly take off your bottoms and first started off by having you bent over the poles that kept the billboard up. he was sliding his tip in and out of you while you pleading him to just fuck you because you were just so horny. “you’re so fucking greedy baby.” he murmured and felicia just nodded, agreeing with him.
“fel, you’re meant to help me.” you whined and she just grinned, “but you are just so greedy, princess.”
he decided you had enough and fully slammed into you while you were distracted listening to her. you whimpered and gripped the pole while keeping your back arched for him, “there ya go, good girl.” she murmured in front of you as he stretched you out so good.
“how’s she feel mig?” she asked, looking up at him and he just grinned, “fucking incredible.”
“lucky.” she mutters and playfully rolls her eyes while he starts setting up a fast pace.
you clenched around him making him twitch and moan, “fuck baby.”
his hands gripped your hips as he thrusted into you hard while felicia cooed sweet nothings to you. your eyes fluttered as miguel slammed into you like there was no tomorrow and felicia took the initiative to kiss you.
you kissed her back prompting miguel to thrust his hips against yours, fucking you for his own pleasure because he was losing his mind because of you two.
felicia pulls away and sticks her thumb out to you, you instinctively sucked on it, “really such a greedy girl, aren’t you?” she teases making you look at you with glossy eyes and nodding.
“if I would’ve known this is how my night would go I wouldn’t have worn my su-“ she says but miguel interrupts her, “alright that’s enough.”
she chuckled and shakes her head, “only playing around spider, come on we all like games around here.”
he groans and grips your skin, the sensation leaving goosebumps all over your body, “fuck- just like that baby-“
“mm you heard her baby, just like that.” she purrs, holding his gaze as he continues his ruthless pace.
“can you pull out when you’re close then fuck her?” you suddenly ask, making them both turn to you.
“god you’re both freaks-“ he mutters under his breath which had you both scoffing.
you then each started deflecting and pulling the blame on him while he started hitting deeper, reaching that spot that always has you seeing stars. you’d stutter while trying to argue but felicia was speaking clearly for you both.
it was going in one ear and out the other but he knew he was fucking thrilled with your idea, hell he knew damn well he loved this whole thing being a surprise to him too but being too stubborn to admit. but you two knew him well enough to know the truth and not believe his lies.
with the sudden realization that this was really happening, he already felt his orgasm coming in. you felt it too with his cock twitching inside you while his thrusts became more sloppy.
felicia had already taken her suit off, she was just left in her undergarments but her panties were off to the side because he had a small taste of you both.
he groaned and pulled out of you then quickly got behind felicia, who had her ass stuck out for him. he quickly slid inside her then wrapped his arms around her as she held on to the same pole you were holding on to.
he slammed into her fast, her tight cunt squeezing like yours did and lord did he love being inside you both. his orgasm formed in his stomach and he started moaning in her ear as she brought a hand up to his face, “oh fuck- feels so good spider!”
you just watched the scene in front of you and rubbed your clit, your own orgasm coming in quick just watching how he held her. felicia had been doing the same when he was fucking you so really all of you had been reaching it together.
felicia’s walls clenched against him as she was the first to cum, squeezing him while he moaned and went as deep as he could then spilled his load inside her. you cried out when yours hit you at the same time and you held onto the pole with felicia.
you were both shaking and all three of you were out of breath, as you slowed down your movements on your fingers and miguel was slowly pulling out. his cock slipped out of her and he quickly fixed her panties so it’d only slip through but not completely spill out.
“fel, i think you’re our girl.” you murmured, walking towards them as she chuckles and just nods.
miguel wraps his arm around you then leans down to kiss you. you pull away then kiss felicia. she pulls away then turns around to face you both, then grabs each of you with one hand and pulling you both in for a kiss. you felt both sets of lips but then one of them stuck their tongue out and it was instantly changed to just tongues clashing.
maybe the prank helped him realize how badly he needed you both in his life. and it made you realize how you could have more than one slice of the pie because it’s what you all wanted.
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cinamintyy · 3 months ago
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Hello! I was wondering if you could do a small request? I was thinking of Capitano with an s/o who’s a dragon? Like just a normal dragon that can turn into a human(like Nuvulett<don’t remember how to spell my hydro dragons name) and there the last of there kind?(By that I mean born a dragon and went into hiding because of over hunting also By dragon form look at the dragons from House of the dragon for some inspo) how do you think he’d react to seeing his s/o’s dragon form for the first time and having a flight? Lest not forget to deep snoring…if not that’s alright I just wanted to put this out there.
Capitano has me in a chokehold I swear
Capitano x Dragon reader:
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A/N:Sry this is late, but I love this idea sm. I'm just clearing out my inbox for these next days.
CW: Dragon reader, hybrid reader, minor character death.
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It was cruel how all of those you knew were taken from you, simply for sport. Killed and taken apart for wings or horns as trophies. You saw all this happening and decided this would not happen to you, so you hid, amongst the humans. You hid any feature that would identify to those hunters you were a dragon, something the rest of your kind couldn't or refused to do. You wouldn't end up hanging on the wall, so you abandoned who you used to be. You didn't have a home, but you eventually decided to settle in Natlan. The pilgrimage wasn't an interest of yours it never was, either way, you weren't from Natlan so you couldn't join. For the stories you told and how wise you were, I mean, you did live a few hundred years. The smaller children especially enjoyed your "made-up" stories of dragons and flying through the sky at extremely high altitudes and speeds. To be fair, your life was going pretty peaceful.
One day, you were at a bar just to get a quick drink when this larger-than-average man who was fully covered in armour sat next to you and ordered a drink. He piqued your curiosity, so you started small talk, but it's safe to say he was a brick wall. You continued to have determination and persisted in talking to him. Capitano was honestly impressed at your persistence and decided to humor you. You both met at the same bar every day to talk. He loved the wise energy you emanated. To be honest, he became smitten, he loved seeking you for advice. But one thing that ate at you was the fact Capitano didn't know the actual you. The fact you were a dragon, the closer you both, the bigger the urge you had to tell him was. You need stress relief and what better way to relieve yourself than to take flight? Just the way you used to, at the very same heights and altitudes. What you didn't know was Capitano knew something was wrong, to him you acted 'odd' and kinda standoffish. He was about to visit you so he could what was up with you when he saw you headed somewhere else. Which just so you know this was at night so it was quite odd, he decided that instead of asking you where you were heading he would just follow you. Secretive? He knew, but what if someone was harming you and you were keeping it secret from him? If it was harmless he would leave knowing you were fine. You decided to take a quick fly around the outskirts of Natlan at night, if any people saw you they would just be seen as having a screw loose. C'mon, this was Natlan, the only place where someone would most likely just see a dragon flying around was Mondstadt. Unbeknownst to you, Capitano saw the whole thing, from you transforming, to you flying, and to you landing back down. You had only realized he saw you afterward. "I apologize, I feel as though I've intruded on you, you've been acting quite odd as of late, and I thought I should follow you to make sure no one was hurting you. I truly apologize I was too forward in my actions." He said to you bowing slightly to show how apologetic he was. You cursed yourself for being so careless silently before replying. "It's alright you had good intentions, either way, you were going to find out one way or another. I am, as you can see, a dragon." Capitano stared in silence before finding his words "A beautiful one I might add, I quite enjoyed seeing you soar through the air." You blushed at the words, "So you're not angry that I've kept such a secret from you?" You asked. "Goodness no, it's understandable why one would keep such a thing, but I'm glad I now know." You let out a sigh of relief at his words. "Perhaps one day you should take me out flying, I think I'd enjoy it." He said proposing an idea for a next date.
Perhaps you would take him outside flying, you think you would enjoy it as well.
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azrielandhisshadows · 3 months ago
Text
winter's kiss (3)
pairing: azriel x reader
word count: 1.9k
summary: Azriel comes to your room and finds you in the midst of your doubt regarding the mating bond. Azriel opens up to you in hopes that you start to trust him
a/n: right now, I think this series will be 5 parts. I hope you enjoy!
part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5
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Your heart pounded as you looked at your mate standing outside your door. His hair was disheveled, evidence that he’d been running his fingers through. You sensed the weight of concern in his eyes, and the depth of worry that etched itself into every line in his face. The golden thread tying you together made your heart pound as you studied every detail of him. Despite the horrors Kallias told you clouding your emotions, there was an innate part of you that longed to reach out to him – to hold him.
“Y/N,” Azriel said, his voice a small whisper. “Can I come in?”
His words broke you from your trance as you nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to follow you into your room. You sat at the edge of your bed and watched as he sat in a chair across from you. Azriel settled into the seat, his posture tense, but the demeanor gentle as he looked around the room. His eyes landed on the ice that remained near your bed, a remnant of your earlier turmoil. 
“I wanted to speak to you after the meeting, but Kallias made you leave so quickly.” You slowly nodded to Azriel’s words, taking slow deep breaths to control the storm beginning to rage within you. Azriel’s eyes met yours as he took a similar controlled breath, “I know this is overwhelming, Y/N. I’m overwhelmed too, but I would be lying if I denied how excited I am. I’ve been waiting for my mate for a long time.”
A wave of warmth flooded your bond at Azriel’s confession, a warmth that started to melt the ice between you. “Growing up, I read stories of great loves that lasted centuries. Mates that chased after each other despite the odds that came against them. They fought for each other, damning the consequences of their actions. I see that type of love in Kallias and Viviane and I couldn’t help but be envious of them. I never imagined finding that type of love from the confines of the Winter Court.”
Azriel’s eyes softened at your confession, his own emotions stirred by your words. You inhaled deeply before continuing, “Azriel, the innate part of me longs for you, which is crazy because I just met you; however, Kallias and Viviane told me things about you. Kallias shared rumors of a darkness that follows you. Death and destruction that follows you,” Azriel’s posture tightened, showing his fear of your next words. “Viviane, on the other hand, told me stories of a man who loves deeply and will protect those of importance to him. Quite frankly, I don’t know what to believe. Help me understand, Azriel – help me understand you.” 
You focused your attention on him, watching as a tear fell onto his scarred hands. His leg bounced up and down, nervousness flowing from the calm and stoic man you met hours ago. Azriel’s gaze remained locked on his hands as more tears fell, and he took a moment to compose himself. The vulnerability in his eyes was stark against the hardened exterior he often displayed. When he finally looked up, his eyes met yours with a mixture of sorrow and determination.
“Darkness has seemed to always follow me, ever since I was young. My father was an Illyrian lord. I lived with him, my stepmother, and two half-brothers. My stepmother and half-brothers didn’t like my presence and kept me locked away in a cell with no windows and light. They kept me as a prisoner, only giving me one hour outside everyday. They didn’t let me fly and I grew up fighting against every instinct in my body that begged me to get away. One day, my brothers decided to see how quickly Illyrian healing could take place,” his voice broke as he paused, searching for the strength to continue. “They poured oil on my hands and set them on fire. Some of my father’s warriors heard my screams and cries for help, but by the time they reached me, the damage had been done. That is why my hands are this way,” he said, lifting his hands for you to see.
Your heart ached as Azriel shared his painful past, each word carried the weight of his suffering. “Then, my powers came in. My shadows only grew in the darkness of my cell. Eventually, my father decided to send me to an Illyrian camp, so I could start training and honing my powers. That’s where I met Rhys and Cassian. We didn’t always get along,” Azriel chuckled as he remembered the beginning of his deepest friendships. “But we grew together and we became each other’s family. I would do anything for them and the rest of our court.”
You listened intently, absorbing the depth of Azriel’s past, the pain he had endured, and the fierce loyalty he felt toward his friends and his court. The revelation of his past brought a swell of compassion and a desire to comfort him.
“I can’t even begin to imagine the pain you went through,” you said softly, reaching out to gently touch his hand, the warmth of your skin contrasting with the coolness of his scars. “It’s hard to reconcile the darkness you’ve faced with the person sitting here before me.”
Azriel’s eyes met yours with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. “The darkness is a part of me, Y/N. It’s shaped who I am, but it doesn’t define me. I’ve learned to use it as a strength rather than letting it consume me. I’ve fought hard to protect those I love and to ensure that no one else has to endure what I did.”
He took a deep breath, his voice steadying. “As for the rumors—there’s truth to the darkness. I’ve been involved in situations that required me to make difficult choices, choices that sometimes led to pain and destruction. But that’s not all there is to me. I strive to balance that with the love and loyalty I feel for my friends, my court, and now, you.”
You nodded, absorbing his words. “I want to believe in the male Viviane described—the one who loves deeply and protects fiercely, but I’ve been trapped for so long. I know I’m naive and I often believe in fantasies that my mind makes up. There have been males in the past that have taken advantage of that and I’ve been left hurting. Kallias was always there to pick up my broken pieces. Kallias has always been my protector and I can’t go by and disregard his concern for a male I’ve just met.”
Azriel’s gaze remained steady, despite the sadness that grew in them. “Y/N, I understand your hesitations. I would be weary if I were in your place. I want to build a relationship with you based on trust and understanding. I don’t share my past with everyone, but I want you to know me beyond my dark reputation. Please, if you give me a chance, I will show you that I’m worthy of your trust.”
You felt a deep sigh of relief at his words. “I want to believe that, Azriel. I want to see the person beyond the rumors and the pain. Let’s take the time we have here to get to know each other, to understand each other better. We have until we leave the Dawn Court.”
Azriel’s expression softened, a faint smile breaking through. “I’d like that. I want us to build something real, something lasting. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m willing to try.”
You reached out and took his hand, your heart swelling with a cautious hope. “Let’s start with that. Let’s see where this path takes us.”
Azriel squeezed your hand gently, a promise of his commitment and sincerity. “Thank you, Y/N. I won’t let you down.” Azriel brought your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on your palm. He rose from his chair and watched as you laid on your once frozen bed. The warmth from his gaze moved to your lips and you felt a blush take over your cheeks. 
You looked at the handsome male standing at your bedside and your gaze shifted to his lips as he licked them. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
The room was bathed in a soft glow from the moonlight that creeped in. His gaze didn’t leave you, both of you filled with sudden anticipation and need. As he held your hand, the warmth of his touch seemed to melt away any lingering doubt and fear you harbored. His delicate plea hung in the air and tugged at your heart. His eyes filled with sincerity and a raw honesty that made it difficult to look away. A breath caught in your throat as you nodded, giving him the silent permission he sought. 
Azriel’s expression softened further, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and longing. Slowly, he leaned in, his movements deliberate and tender. The space between you shrank until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He paused for a heartbeat, giving you the chance you back away.
You didn’t move. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, meeting him halfway. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was a gentle, exploratory touch—a whisper of a kiss that spoke of all the emotions neither of you had yet fully expressed. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft, contrasting with the cold of his scars, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.
The kiss deepened as you both surrendered to the moment. Azriel’s hand moved to your cheek, his touch gentle as he cradled your face. His lips molded to yours with a tenderness that made you feel cherished and safe. It was as if the kiss was a promise, a vow to navigate the uncertainty together and build something meaningful out of the chaos.
You responded with equal tenderness, your hand still resting in his, your other hand rising to touch his face. The kiss was a dance of exploration, a slow, deliberate melding of two souls finding their way to each other. Time seemed to stretch, and in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.
Azriel pulled away, his smile portraying the same hope that your kiss shared. The room transitioned into a serene quiet, disturbed only by the soft breeze whistling through the windows. He looked at you and you could tell he was weighing his next words carefully. 
“I’ll let you rest now,” Azriel’s voice, a soft murmur in the serenity. “I’d like to have breakfast with you in the morning, if that’s alright with you.”
Your face broke into a soft, yet tired, smile, “I’d like that.” 
Azriel stood, his tall presence acting as a comforting shadow over you. He reached for your hand once more, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. He turned to leave, his smile full of hope and gratitude for the moment you shared. As he reached the door, he looked back at you and paused.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said softly.
His eyes lingered on your tired form as you looked to him, “Goodnight, Azriel.”
Azriel permitted himself one more soft look filled with admiration at you before he stepped out of the room. The soft click of the door closing behind him acted as a gentle reminder of the moment you two had shared.
As you settled back onto your bed, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on your lips, you felt a sense of peace that had eluded you for so long. You gazed out the window at the stars over the Dawn Court, the night embracing you as you dreamed of the days ahead.
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taglist: @marvelsmylife @darlingoftheshadowss @scatteredstardustt
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