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number1mingyustan · 9 months ago

Text

Still Yours

idol!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, grinding, lots of sexual tension, explicit smut, protected sex (missionary), fingering (f.), low-key rough sex, scratching, teasing, they're so cute and domestic ugh, teensy bit (a lot) of angst cuz i can't live without it, if you realllyy read into it it’s a lil toxic but they’re so cute 😪

Summary: When you’re with him, the time around you ceases to exist. You’ve got your own little bubble that’s immune to reality where he’s just yours.

Word Count: 5.1k

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(a/n: i usually don't read/write content where they idols because I'm simply not a fan. but i read a jk fic like this recently and it was a masterpiece. to say the least i was inspired so shout out to that author and i hope you enjoy)

The cool outside air fills your lungs as you step onto the sidewalk. It’s not cold, just fresh and cool enough to rejuvenate you from the hot sweaty air from inside of the club.

It’s a lot emptier out here, it helps to clear your mind. There’s only two or three other people out here, having a smoke in silence or waiting impatiently for an uber.

Your mind is still just a little bit muggy from the alcohol coursing through your veins, but being outside has instantly given you clarity.

You just couldn’t be in there any longer. The guy at the bar just could not take a hint. He was cute too, the type of guy you would typically be interested in. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him at first.

But then halfway through your conversation and his hand touched your lower back, the guilt settled in. It suddenly felt so wrong. The guy in the club’s hand didn’t feel the same as when he does it.

Almost instantly, it registered in your mind. This stranger didn't compare. He had nothing on the guy who really has your heart.

The famous idol who doesn't hesitate to answer your phone calls or cook for you when you're hungry.

This guy was a nobody.

One phone call and you’d have so much better.

The stranger clearly didn’t pick up on your shift in energy, probably too drunk to notice how you started to pull away. You were suddenly uninterested in anything he had to say and it was exhausting to have to fake laugh and smile as you tried to make excuses as to why you weren’t going home with him tonight.

But he was persistent and suddenly felt too touchy. He probably wasn't touching you as much as you thought, but you were suddenly so aware of him that it felt wrong with him being so close. His very presence alone was irritating. You finally caught the attention of one of your friends and gave her the ‘SOS’ look. She drunkenly stumbled over to you and pulled away from the conversation somewhat smoothly.

You thanked her before letting her know you were stepping out to get some fresh air.

But now it's a little after one in the morning and your thoughts are clouded with him. Your mind begins to wander to the moments you've shared over the past few years. The pet names, the sleepovers with homemade face masks, the phone calls from his hotel rooms.

Now you're texting him.

You: you awake?

________

Mingyu sits at home on the couch, beer in hand as the TV flashes in front of him. He's watching a movie he's got no real interest in, but he can't sleep. He's been home for a little more than a day and he's still got major jetlag ruining his sleep schedule.

No matter how hectic his life has been, he always dreads the jetlag.

The buzz of his phone captures his attention and he can't avoid the smile that pulls on his lips when he sees your name flash on the screen.

Mingyu: nah, sleeping

You giggle at your phone, smiling at the device just as he is. Your hands move a little slower to text back as the cool air outside changes your body temperature. You shiver, blowing on your hands as they grow cold.

You: call me

The message flashes delivered briefly before your screen changes entirely. You're surprised to see an incoming FaceTime and not a regular call.

You hold the phone up to your face, fixing your hair before you hit answer.

He lays on the couch in the living room, the darkness surrounding him heavily contrasts the colorful beams of light that flash behind you. The loud music thumps in the background.

"Hi." He smiles.

"Hi," You grin.

You feel giddy inside. Partially because you were drinking a bit and mostly because you're talking to him again. It's been quite some time since you've seen each other.

"Where are you?" He asks first.

You take a moment to respond as you walk toward the curb. You fix your dress and sit on the curb of the sidewalk, holding the phone up to your face.

"At the club," You reply.

"Ah, fun night I presume?" He asks.

You shake your head. "Not really."

"Sorry to hear that Shorty," He says.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. Your heart always leaps when he calls you that.

"Yeah, not really my thing anyway," You frown.

"I remember, surprised you're even there this late," He comments.

You smile. He remembers.

"Took some convincing from my friends. It wasn't so bad when we were drinking earlier, but then it started to hit and I wasn't feeling it anymore," You say, chipping away at the white nail polish on your fingers.

"They didn't abandon you, did they?" He asks, voice laced with concern.

"Who? My friends? No, they were looking out for me but I just wasn't feeling it anymore so I told them I was stepping outside for a minute," You continue to chip away at the polish mindlessly.

"I don't like you being alone like that, especially if you've been drinking," He frowns.

"I'm okay, I promise..." You assure him. "I wanna see you though."

A boyish smile forms on his face. "Yeah?"

You nod. "You home?"

"Yeah, come over," He offers. "I'll get you something to eat and you can spend the night."

Your ears perk up from his words. Your heart jumps out of your chest in anticipation.

"Okay, I'll order a–"

"–Text me what club you're at," he interrupts. "I'll get you an Uber here."

______

You call another one of your friends while you wait. You’re surprised she picks up on the second ring. “HELLO?” she shouts into the phone.

“Hey love,” You say.

“Y/N WHERE DID YOU GO?? The hot guy you were talking to is still here, I thought you went home with him.”

The loud music thumps in the background, but you can surprisingly hear her clearly.

You shake your head. “I’m heading home, I’ll see you guys later.”

Of course, the terms of your NDA don’t allow you to tell them where you’re really going. You make up an excuse about not feeling well and she pouts.

“Aw but we were– Hana NO!” She interrupts herself and the line goes silent for a few moments.

You hear shifting and wait to hear her voice again.

“Sorry, we’re in the bathroom and Hana started throwing up. She’s fine now. You feel better though, and text one of us when you get home. Stay safe babes.”

“Okay, I will.”

Before you can hang up, she’s calling out to the other girls. “GUYS, Y/N IS GOING HOME.”

More shuffling suddenly fills your ears and female voice.

“Nooooo, don’t leave,” Hana drunkenly slurs.

You laugh. “I’ll go out with you guys again next weekend.”

After a little bit more drunken banter, you finally hang up and wait on the curb until your ride gets here.

____

Considering he's the one who ordered the Uber, you know he'll know exactly when you get there. So, you spend the entirety of the ride in the backseat fixing up your appearance.

You play with your hair, refresh your lip gloss, and adjust your appearance for the better.

When you arrive at the familiar home, your heart rate picks up and you open the door with shaky hands. You stand outside the car, purse in hand as you shut the door.

Just as you close the car door, his front door opens almost on cue. His full stature comes to your sight and your excitement bubbles over.

He leans against the door frame, grinning at you. He looks cozy, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a white wifebeater, and his glasses. Your knees nearly give out at the sight of him in his glasses. He looks so good. His muscular body is visible in the tee and you have to stop yourself from pouncing him.

His hair is definitely shorter than the last time you saw him. And it's been well, months since you've seen him. Two? Maybe even three? But that doesn't matter, what matters is that you're here with him now.

You try not to express how excited you are, but you just can't wipe the smile off your face. You walk toward him and he invites you in with open arms.

His strong arms wrap around your frame. You're so happy you could cry. Your arms wrap around him, squeezing his frame. You inhale, breathing in his scent. He smells like home. His touch is so comforting, this moment feels unreal. You hold him and appreciate him for everything he is.

He pulls away, looking down at you with a grin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hi, Shorty."

You grin up at him, bringing your hands to his hair. You run your fingers through it. "You cut it."

He nods. "Couple days ago yeah, you don't like it?"

"I always like it," You tell him truthfully. "But it was a little sexier when it was long."

He pulls you all the way inside, closing the door and locking it. "I'll tell management to let me grow it back out just for you."

"Doubt they'll see me as reason enough for that," You say.

"They'll just have to deal with it," He runs a hand through his hair. "I'll never let scissors touch my hair again if you say so."

Oh my gosh. You hate him.

You hate how he makes your heart skip a beat and he somehow always knows all the right things to say to you.

You giggle. "I wouldn't ask you to do that, Gyu."

"You'd still like me if I was bald?" He asks.

"Yeah Gyu, I would." You admit.

"Oh wow" He has a boyish grin on his face. "You like-like me."

"Yeah well, you like-like me too," You remind him.

"Damn right I do, Shorty," He pulls you in by your waist. "Don't know why you're so far away."

You squeal when your body moves against his. "I'm still wearing my shoes! I need to take them off."

"Relax Shorty," He lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter.

He drops down, undoing your heels and placing them on the mat next to his front door. He stands back up to his full stature, face mere inches above yours.

He leans in. "I missed you."

You look up at him with soft eyes. There's so much yearning behind your pupils, that it makes you wonder if he can see through to it.

"I missed you too," You admit.

You find yourself back hin his arms. His big hands circle your waist, pressing your chests together. But now, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft, just delicate enough to express how much he missed you. Your small hand cups his cheek as your lips move against one another. His touches are gentle, but they spark so many things inside you, igniting you from the inside out.

But your moment is cut short when your growling stomach interrupts.

You pull away just a little bit, brushing your nose against his, giggling to yourself. He lets out a genuine laugh, holding your hand in his. "I did promise you food, didn't I?"

You nod. "I believe you did."

He helps you off the counter and back onto your feet. He walks over to the pantry.

"Sorry to get your hopes up," He admits sheepishly. "I just got back so... there's not much."

"Oh that's okay, it can't be–"

You open the fridge, finding virtually nothing. Some milk, A couple water bottles, half a carton of eggs, a few bottles of liquor, and a can of half-eaten kimchi.

You wedge your way in front of him, looking into the pantry and it's somehow worse. There's only stuff that needs to actually be cooked, and there's not much of it.

You fall dramatically into his chest and he laughs. "I told you there wasn't much."

His hand touches your lower back as you sink your face into his chest. This time, it feels right.

"Why did you even offer me food if you didn't have any?!" You exclaim.

He holds your head in his hands, cupping both of your cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I forgot Shorty. You do that to me."

While his words are making your stomach turn, the hunger rumbling is a lot louder. "Is the milk in the fridge even good?"

"Yeah, I just bought it today." He says casually.

"You went out and bought milk... and nothing else? Knowing you had no food?" You question.

"I needed it to go with my cereal," He shrugs. "But that's not important. Look, there's some rice in here."

He grabs the uncooked rice out of the pantry. "I can make you some fried rice with egg and kimchi. I've got soy sauce somewhere around here."

"No I think I'll just take some cereal," You walk out of his grasp, making your way toward the fridge.

He pouts. "I can cook for you though."

"I'll take you up on that offer another time," You tap his cheek with your palm lightly. "I'm very hungry. And you've got no vegetable to go with, not even a green onion. I'm getting some cereal."

You open the fridge, grabbing the milk while he gets the bowls and spoons. You try to grab the cereal box from above the fridge, but you can't quite reach it. Mingyu comes up behind you, grabbing it with ease and a shit-eating grin on his face.

You frown, but you're too hungry to make any comments. The two of you sit at the table, each pouring yourselves a bowl of cereal. "You said you just got back?" You ask.

He nods. "Like two days ago, I think. My sense of time is a little messed up, jetlag."

You nod in acknowledgment. He continues to tell you about the past few months since he's seen you. You play friends catching up as he answers all your questions about his life as of recent. The shows, the photoshoots, all the traveling, filming, and preparations for the upcoming months as well.

He asks you about work too, although your updates are not nearly as interesting as his though. But he doesn't ask out of courtesy, he genuinely cares. He likes hearing about your life, likes just listening to you speak even if you're not the one doing Calvin Klein photoshoots.

The time flies, and before you know it, it's 3 in the morning. You always find yourself invested in him when you're together, like the world around you ceases to exist. You get caught up, failing to realize that time is indeed still passing, and a lot of it.

He pulls you in by your hips, pressing your back onto his chest.He pulls the bowls and utensils out of your hands swiftly and turns you around.

"Nope, don't worry about that," he drops them into the sink. "You just go hop in the shower, I'll give you one of my t-shirts."

"Are you saying I stink?" You accuse him playfully.

"Never, Shorty." He kisses your cheek. "As much as I love this little dress on you, it's getting late and you should be in something comfy. Now go." He playfully taps your butt, sending you to the bathroom.

You look back at him, feigning offense as he grins.

______

When you step out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, there's a t-shirt laid out for you with a pair of boxers. You get dressed before walking down to the living room.

Mingyu lays there, scrolling through his phone. When he hears you enter, his attention shifts to you immediately and he gives you a warm smile.

He sits up all the way and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. "Thank you, for letting me using the shower and for the food."

He holds you close to him. "Of course Shorty

"Where are your clothes?" He asks.

"Folded on the dresser in your room, why?" You ask.

He pulls you off his lap and stands to his feet. "Wanna wash them so you can have them tomorrow. Are they washer and dryer safe?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to worry about it." You assure him.

"Don't worry about it, I have clothes I need to was anyway. I'll just through yours in with them," he says.

He disappears up into his room and when he emerges, he's holding a basket of clothes and your dress on top. He walks down and walks over to you on the couch.

"That's all you had? Just the dress and the panties? No bra?" He asks.

You grin. "Nope."

He inhales sharply, but pushes his thoughts aside. "Come with."

You follow behind him downstairs. He leads you to the laundry room in the basement.

You sit on the dryer as he loads the washing machine. There's a comfortable silence in the atmosphere. Everything about this is so comforting... so domestic. It's exactly what you needed.

"Hand me that?" he says, pointing to the detergent behind you. "Please?"

You grab the detergent, handing it to him. "Thank you, Shorty."

After he's done with it, he hands it back to you and adjusts the settings before starting up the machine.

"Ready for bed?" He asks.

You nod, reaching your arms out to him. He turns around, lifting you off the machine and piggybacking you all the way up to his bedroom. He drops your body on his plush mattress and strips down to just his boxers. He places his glasses on his dresser gently. Immediately after, he climbs under the covers. You join him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

He pulls your body against his, yearning to have you close to him. He looks at you with a softness in his eyes. His hand runs along your thigh gently and innocently.

But right now, close doesn't feel close enough. You've missed him so much, you want to feel consumed by him. You need him inside of you.

You press your forehead against his, look at him with soft, sultry eyes. His hands start to wander, moving from your thighs to your butt.

Almost simultaneously, you pick up on one another's energy. The sexual tension grows and pretty soon his lips are on yours again. You moan softly against his lips.

He brings his hand to your cheek, cupping it softly as your lips move against his in perfect harmony. He takes everything you give and vice versa,perfectly in sync.

Pretty soon, you're itching to get undressed even though his clothes are extremely comfortable. You're eager for more of him, pulling away from the kiss.

"Gyu," You breathe out.

"I know baby, fuck–I know," He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him once again.

He lifts your hips enough to pull his boxers off of your body. The t-shirt you're narrowing is next to go, leaving you completely naked on his lap.

"Fuck," He whispers. "You're so pretty, Shorty. Need you so bad."

You lean over, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. You know better than to leave marks, but you grind down against him slowly. He lets out a shaky breath, holding your hips as you move against him. "Mm-fuck."

His cock grows stiff beneath you, poking against your bare core. You grind down harder, feeling the veins of his cock against your clit through his boxers. "Feels good, Gyu.." You moan.

You chase the friction selfishly. You know you could cum like this, and with how good it feels, you're not entirely against it. But his hand comes in between the two of you, pressing against your pussy to feel how wet you are.

"Fuck, Shorty you're soaking..." he groans.

You can only nod in agreement as the pads of his fingers graze your clit. You're dripping on his fingers, so much so that he could easily slip–

"–You want my fingers?"

Fuck, he knows you so well.

You nod eagerly. He pinches your clit, making you yelp.

"Use your words baby."

You mewl. "Yes, fuck yes, please."

He lifts your body, flipping you over so you're underneath him. He holds himself up with his arm, hovering over you as he slips two fingers into you with ease.

Even though it's just his fingers, he can feel how tight you are. Your cunt stretches around his digits as he pumps them into you. You moan out, feeling the way the pleasure builds in your lower region.

His fingers are so skilled and he knows your body well. He knows that when he curls his finger, you're gonna squeeze your legs together and cry out.

Which is exactly what you do when he curls his fingers inside of you. He pries your legs back open, picking up the pace of his fingers as you moan out loud. "Ah fuck–nngh."

His cock twitches in anticipation as he pleasures you. He's not focused on it right now, but your pleasure is his pleasure.

"Shit–I'm gonna cum," You warn him, gripping his bicep.

He grins, teasing you with his words. "Already, Shorty?"

You breathe out, pushing your hips against his hands. "Fuck– 's been a while.

Oh?

His digits press against the sweet spot deep inside of you and you arch your back up off the bed and cry out. "You don't touch yourself when I'm not here, Shorty?"

"Not enough–ah!" You moan. "Can't cum."

You know you'd never admit this if you weren't drinking earlier or on the brink of an orgasm. But your words affect him more than he lets it show.

He's ruined you.

That means you haven't slept with anyone since he last saw you. And to top it off, you can't get yourself off without his help. A sense of pride fills his chest and only encourages him to go faster, pushing you over the edge.

Although, the same can't be said for him. The pride in his chest is pinched by a small twinging of guilt.

It's not something you really talk about with each other. You know it happens, but you choose not to acknowledge it. As much as it feels like it when you're together, you're not together. It's been nearly three years since your relationship, if you can even call it that, came to fruition.

But with him constantly busy and on the move, you've spent a small fraction of those three years in each other's presence. When he's not with you, he's performing and traveling the world. He catches the attention of plenty of other pretty girls who are more than willing to sign an NDA to spend the night with him.

He's just a man after all. And a famous one who constantly travels at that. He's got needs of his own and the means to fulfill them.

He's someone you trust. You know he'd never catch something and risk bringing it to you. He's too careful, has too much at stake with his career.

But those thoughts only cloud his mind, and for a brief moment at that. With you underneath him, writhing and gasping for air as you cum on his fingers, his attention is fully on you.

He pins your body on on the bed, adding more pressure as you grip his bicep. You nails dig into his skin, sure to leave marks. He doesn't mind though, not when you cry out his name and screw your eyes shut in pleasure.

Your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. "Shit, Shorty... that's it, yeah."

It takes a moment for you to come down. When you do, you blink your eyes open, loosening your grip on his bicep. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your neck. His fingers slip out of you slowly and you whine as the loss of touch.

His hard length presses against your thigh, making it very known how badly he needs you. You think about pushing him down on the bed and sucking him dry, but you'd much rather have him inside of you.

You press a hand on his chest gently, pointer finger lightly dragging on his skin. "Mmm, that was so good, Gyu."

"Yeah?" He lifts his head up.

You bite your lip seductively and nod softly. "Yeah... want you to fuck me now, though."

He licks his lips slowly. "Want it, or need it?"

"Need it, need it so fucking bad, Gyu" You pull at the material of his boxers. You're so needy. He can hear it in your voice and it's clear in your actions. He wants to give you everything and more.

He presses his hips down against you and you help him to pull of his boxers. You wrap your hand around his cock and start pumping him slowly. He lets out a breath of relief.

His cock is hard and heavy in your hand. It's pulsing and aching to be touched. He inhales sharply when you circle your thumb around the tip, smearing his precum around.

You love it when he's sensitive like this, so reactive. It reminds you that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you. You continue to pump him, and he reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a gold package.

You snatch the condom out of his hand. "I wanna do it."

He grins. "Okay, Shorty."

You tear open the packaging with your teeth.

"You know, you shouldn't do that," He warns you. "Could accidentally puncture a hole in it. Wouldn't want another pregnancy scare would we?"

You toss the gold wrapper onto the nightstand. "First of all, you use your teeth every time we do this. Second of all, you used your teeth to open the condom the time we had to scare." You remind him.

He smirks. "I learn from my mistakes, baby."

You ignore him, rolling the condom onto his length and laying on your back. He hovers over you again, stroking his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

When he enters you, the stretch is immaculate. You both breathe out, moaning as he bottoms out inside of you. He sinks further into you, deep into your warmth and you stretch to accommodate him perfectly.

"Fuck... Gyu," You moan out, wrapping your arms around his muscular back.

"Shorty... fuck me–" He groans. You breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your hips up into him. You move in perfect sync as his hips drive into yours. His neck nearly goes limp as his head dips down. "Yeah, Shorty–just like that–uh. Fuck, you're so hot, baby."

"Mingyu–" You moan out. "I missed you so much... so fucking much."

His hips snap back, his cock thrusting deep into you. "Missed you too, missed everything about you."

His thrusts slow down, but they don't stop. He taps the side of your thigh, silently telling you to unwrap your legs around around him. You oblige, and he lifts your legs up.

He drives his cock deeper into you, bringing your legs over his shoulders. You gasp out at the sudden stretch and wave of pleasure that hits you.

The pure force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain turns into pleasure into pleasure, the noises he makes – it's overwhelming in the best way possible. It's so much, but it's so good, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as your breath catches in your throat. You eyes fall shut as your face scrunches in pleasure before the sensation courses through through you and you can hardly take it. Your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"Fuck... pussy's so good," He groans. " 'S all mine."

"Hah-fuck," You cry out.

"Tell me it's mine, baby," He demands. "C'mon Shorty."

Your eyes fall shut and your breathe in through your nose as his cock pushes deeper into you. Your voice is broken and soft. "It's all yours–"

He thrusts into you particularly hard. "Say it again–louder."

"Fuck! It's all yours."

It's a lie, somewhat. Everything between you two is complicated, yet simple. But in moments like these, you don't focus on the small details or realities.

"That's what I fucking thought," He groans.

You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. A telltale sign that you're close to the edge. His pace doesn't falter, and he continues to fuck you as your orgasm courses through your body.

Your body spasms beneath him, writhing to escape the overwhelming pleasure. He doesn't let you though, pinning your body down as he continues to drive his cock deep inside of you.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck–uh!" You cry out. Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes.

Your pussy tightens around him, convulsing as you cum for the second time tonight. He watches as your face twists and contorts with pleasure, a sight that remains forever etched in his memory.

You're still coming down while he's fucking you, grunting and groaning with each thrust of his hips. There's sweat dripping down his body, causing his skin to glisten in the moonlight.

Your mind is hazy, still struggling to process all the pleasure you're body is enduring. You're growing overstimulated, but you can tell he's getting close.

His hips lose their rhythm, thrusts growing erratic and uncoordinated as your pussy milks him. He lets out a long groan, cursing out your name as he spills his load into the rubber.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he sits up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before pulling out of you and allowing your feet to touch the bed.

His body is spent, and the soft look in your eyes relaxes him. It makes him feel blissful and at ease, it makes the sleepiness creep its way into his body.

You wrap your arms around his neck softly pulling his face toward yours. "All good?"

"Fuckin perfect," he sighs with a smile.

He's too close and too tempting not to kiss. So you do, softly pressing your lips against one another. The feeling in your heart is overwhelming. You don't know that he feels it too, two hearts moving rapidly yet somehow in perfect sync.

It's moments like these where there's a conundrum of things weighing heavily on your mind that you want to express or say out loud, but you don't. You know better than that, and so does he.

So a kiss will have to do. To speak the words that will remain unspoken and seal it closed. A silent way to express the thoughts that run through your brains and the emotions that are pouring out of your hearts.

So you kiss him, because that's all you can do for now. While he's still here, while he's still yours.

___

After you two clean up, you climb back into the bed. You face each other, laying on your sides.

His eyes are closed, but he's not fully encaptured by his slumber. He's halfway there though, pouting in his state of rest with a soft expression. He looks so peaceful, so cute. Such a contrast to the man who had your legs thrown over his shoulders only minutes prior.

You press your hand onto his hair, pushing it back ever so lightly as you admire his features. You see the smile tugging at his lips. "Go to sleep, Shorty."

His eyes don't open as he speaks to you.

"Sorry," You say sheepishly. I was just admiring."

"Cute, you can admire in the morning though. Go to sleep, baby."

You nod, although he can't see you, and exhale softly. You adjust the comforter and his eyes blink open slowly.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he offers, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

You hum, smiling to yourself. "lemme guess, cereal?"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips. "Alright, I'll take you out for breakfast, or we can order in if you can't walk."

You punch his shoulder playfully before burying your face against his chest. You fall asleep in his arms peacefully.

_______________________________________________

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #seventeen angst #mingyu angst #kpop

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everythingmp3 · 3 months ago

Text

no need to be brave

adult Van x fem!reader

as your lover deals with a hangover, which is only made worse by her illness, she insists that you leave her to deal with it by herself, but you have other plans -with a bit of tenderness and heat, you manage to make her feel it: that you want to be with her, always, not just on her good days

authors note: hi! I was on a break from posting these fics but that promo clip where adult taivan are bickering gave me some inspiration, so I just took the idea of being sweet with her while shes suffering and this came from that, hope you enjoy <3 (5.8k words)

warnings: some smut (both receive in certain ways), mentions of cancer/grief etc.

it was a sunny winter afternoon as you laid on Van´s couch and listened to the outside noise, cars driving by, the day going unfolding while you relaxed with your legs stretched out, your eyes closed, your breathing slow and steady.

you´d been dating Van long enough by that point to feel like her apartment had become your second home, and she was more than glad to leave hers years of solitary living behind, but in that moment she had no idea that you were still there.

the night before, you had gone out to a nice dinner and against all better judgment she had insisted on getting a few drinks at the bar next door; you were aware of her diagnosis, unlike when you´d first started dating, and asked her if she was sure, to give her a chance to change her mind, but she did not budge, she wanted a proper drink for once, a few even, so, instead of playing mother and telling her that she was forbidden, you caved and indulged her. for the next few hours you joined her in enjoying the present moment, regardless of consequence, soaked up the atmosphere of the dimly lit room as you stole touches under the table and both got tipsy from a few shots and two drinks, kissing to taste the citrusy booze on each others lips.

as you walked home, arm in arm, you were glad that you hadn´t dragged her home, that you got to see her face glow pink as she smiled at you under the light of the moon, paused on your way back to kiss you in an empty street, to feel you up against a wall until you heard a group of people approaching and ran, or rather stumbled, away. you had fallen asleep later on in a tight embrace while caressing each others hair, whispering sweet drunken thoughts, "my baby..", "I´m so lucky..", falling into a dazed slumber.

that burst of sparkling euphoria was replaced by a dull dread the next morning, at least on Vans part.

she couldn´t blame anyone but herself for the banging migraine she woke up to, she knew this, so she refrained from complaining to you, even though she radiated a palpable air of "I am gonna die today. not in the near future, this is it, I´m fucking done for.", her body punishing her for her recklessness, her joints and muscles aching with every move.

you were already familiar enough with her physical makeup to know exactly what she needed on mornings like that: an ice cold coke, some strong pain killers, a flaky pastry, and you doting on her, even though she denied it. Van felt embarrassed from the moment she woke up, aware of how beyond rough she looked, her hair disheveled, her face puffy, failing to suppress her groans of discomfort, and yet, you weren´t put off by it, any of it, even when she was convinced you were surely losing all of your attraction to her by the minute, it never happened, not once; you had yet to see Van in a state that didn´t elicit feelings of adoration or warmth in you, her freckled nose and cheeks, the shape of her lips, her voice, her flame colored hair, that distinct sweet warm scent she had in the morning, they were never diminished in their effect on you by a cranky attitude or signs of her sickness, ever.

you knew that she did not always believe you, that she often wondered why on earth you stayed with her, through everything, even though you weren´t even girlfriends, not officially, not really. you knew Van well enough to know that she would not ask you to be exclusive, much too afraid of the unbearable sense of guilt of locking you down, when she might die within the year, when she might evoke widow-like feelings in someone who had barely just started their adult life.

you had no way of knowing, but in her darkest moments when she was cruelest to herself her mind told her "youre a fucking monster. you already knew you had a few months at most and still looked for a lover. you tell yourself that you werent looking for more than sex but you know its not true. you were too selfish to die without having anyone wrecked by your death. you wanted someone to really grieve your loss. and now youve found a poor soul. enjoy it."

still, even when she kept things undefined and told you you were free to date other people - while dying of envy at the mere thought - in your head, and in hers, Van was your girlfriend, she was, you didn´t need her to say it because her behavior sufficed, she treated you like a partner, not just a a hook-up, she was far from detached and you let her believe that it was casual, that you weren´t at risk of having your heart shattered by her death, that you weren´t already in love with her.

the way you´d found out about her cancer had been less than ideal.

during your first date, her attitude was "no need to tell her about it, I doubt I will see her more than a few times" at the time still very attached to her idea of keeping her love life non-committal, unromantic, only allowing hook-ups and maybe a few low-key dates here and there. this plan was abandoned fast when your first date went so beautifully that you ended up kissing her goodbye in her car, which inevitably turned into a heated make-out, which turned into you asking her to come up to your room, both of you a little shocked by how deeply into each other you were after just a few hours of talking over a dinner table.

one of your fondest memories from that night was after you´d gotten lost in each other for hours, laying there tired but far from sleepy, exhilirated by your natural chemistry, when she laughed and shook her head, still breathless, and said "what the fuck are you doing to me..", since she was not used to it: a stranger being as overtly sweet and intense during sex as you´d been, kissing her not just in the obvious places but on the back of her hand, wherever you could reach in the heat of the moment, still reeling from the way you´d begged to taste her after she´d done it to you, the way you´d caressed her sides, had given her a type of intimacy that she usually felt like she’d have to earn by being more open, more vulnerable during a date - but you didn´t care to hear her life story, you were eager to feel her, fully, and it broke her down, hit her at her weak spot, the romantic in her, that she´d kept buried, coming back up to hold you as you slept together that night.

you saw each other again two days later and you ended up spending the weekend at her place, which went so smoothly that Van abandoned her rule of "no sweet stuff, nothing relationship adjacent" : she started inviting you out for breakfast, always offered to drive you to work or to meet up with a friend, picked you up at night, listened and calmed you down whenever you seemed worried or stressed; you returned the same energy by randomly showing up at her store with flowers for her place or her favorite take-out or to just keep her some company and sit near the counter while she talked to you about her recent film discoveries, gossiped about some customers, pulled you into the back-room to make out until the bell rang, you pushing her away as she groaned and uttered "I´m not done with you" as she left the room and prayed that the person would leave within a few minutes.

this honeymoon period made her feel an acute sense of shame. she had tried again and again to find the right moment to tell you, to just say it: "I am so sorry. I have been keeping something from you." but the love she had so unexpectedly stumbled into with you, that light she felt in her chest, that unfamiliar warmth that had wrapped its soft arms around her soul, she was too desperate to keep it in tact, so weeks passed before the moment came, unplanned, she didnt want it to go the way it did.

one night as you laid on top of her, still breathing heavy, still trembling a bit from the way she´d wrecked you, her hands drawing soft circles on your back, her heartbeat under your ear, you had fantasized about possibly going on a summer vacation that year, to get away from everything, to have a few days just to be together and lounge around and jump into the ocean together, eat good food, be at ease. it hit her then, the inability to picture her future because she did not know how long she still had, so she went quiet and burst into tears.

at first, you were shocked, unable to speak, since you´d never seen her shed a single tear up until then, but you quickly recovered and held her face and tried to soothe her in any way you could as the confession came spilling out: "I´m so sorry, I´m so fucking sorry, but I don´t even know if I´ll.." she choked up in the middle "if I´ll..." you coaxed it out of her, rubbed her shoulders, listened quietly as she cried, "if I´ll still be alive in summer. I have cancer. terminal."

Van had expected you to be angry with her, to feel blind-sided and betrayed by her stringing you along for weeks without ever mentioning her severe predicament, but all you could think to do then was to pull her head against your shoulder and assure her that you weren´t going anywhere, that you would figure it out together, that she had no reason to apologize.

you put on a brave face for her but later that night the other person who was home with you had to stop you from almost hyperventilating at the thought of having to watch her lose her physical strength and suffer til her premature death, which you would have to survive, somehow. you allowed yourself one night of fully falling apart and grieving the loss you were being asked to face in the near future, but the next day a determination took over, you told yourself, "I love her. I love being with her. and I will make the most out of every second. I will ease her pain in any way I can, until the end."

Van could sense this energy from that point on, your protective spirit, and it humbled her while also making her feel a bit uneasy about her being older and yet being taken care of by you, almost shedding tears when you did things for her like massage her temples and joints with essential oils to relieve some of the pain or when you clocked her lies about having eaten enough during the day and cooked her elaborate meals at night, when you made her switch during sex to keep her from exhausting herself just to make you come again and again, a sweetness to it, the way you´d sometimes move away from under her and push her back into the pillows with a pleased smile that said "your turn now, I´m very satisfied, no need to prove yourself".

that morning, the guilt had come back to haunt Van, so she told you to leave her to deal with her aching bones and hangover by herself, to go out and have a fun Saturday, to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about her, to not turn into her "unpaid nurse", as she put it.

she´d insisted quite aggressively, her mood not helping at all with her self-loathing, so you´d assuaged her by saying "okay fine, I´ll go, call me if you need any help though" and left her room, walked down the stairs, loudly, on purpose, to make it sound like you´d left, only to quietly creep up again and stay.

you refused to leave her to her own devices in a state like that. it was out of the question. not when you were afraid she might pass out on her way to the bathroom or in the shower. about two hours after she´d fallen asleep again, around 3pm, you heard some noise coming from her room that signaled to you that she was awake.

you wouldn´t just sit there and listen, so you got up from the couch and made your way over to her room, cracking the door open and preparing yourself for her to tell you off, which of course, only took a few seconds to happen, a barely suppressed grin on your face as you saw her laying there, her eyes still half-closed, her cheeks pink from sleep, and heard her voice crack as she whined your name and said "noo come on, you said you´d go, what the fuck are you still doing here??".

you smiled as you took a few steps further into the room and crossed your arms, eyeing her with an unmistakably loving gaze, "oh, perfect way to be greeted while walking into the room" an air of smugness to you as you walked over to her nightstand and popped an aspirin into the glass of water you´d left there for her earlier. Van shook her head as she rubbed her eyes and let out a "fucking hell..", clearly still out of it, so you sat down on her side of the bed to get a closer look at her, your hand resting over the blanket, a twist in your heart when you saw how tired she still looked, but a bit of life had thankfully come back into her from the nap.

"this isn´t funny... take a fucking look outside!" Van told you, gesturing wildly at the window "it´s so nice out today, you should be with friends, moving your body, enjoying the sun, whatever, not staying inside to take care of an old decrepit woman." her tone low, an attempt at sternness that wasn´t unattractive to you, still, her pout took away from her ability to seem intimidating, to seem anything but sweet to you. you watched her, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucked it behind her ear and said "uh, would you mind pointing to the woman you´re talking about because I dont see anyone decrepit here".

Van rolled her eyes and squeezed your arm then for emphasis, trying not to be charmed, "listen to me lady, I told you, I don´t want to feel guilty all the time, I really don´t, this is my fault, I chose to drink, so you go, be free, have fun, please, I will call you when I am better again, I promise".

she was trying her best to sell it to you, the simple idea of: let us part ways, let me deal with it, and get back to you when I am fit again. but what you heard was "abandon me" and you never would. so it was pointless. she couldn´t sway you and maybe deep down she was secretly glad for it, your unwavering loyalty, the way you never seemed fazed or annoyed by her ailments, her moods, her little moments of melodrama.

"do you really think I am doing all of this out of pity? really? that I secretly hate this and just put on a brave face? come on. Van. you know me by now" you said, earnest, holding her hand then, clasping it tightly as she softened from your impact, felt touched by your gentle way of handling her. "yeah... yeah I do" she agreed and squeezed your hand, her voice barely above a whisper, a wistfulness to her tone, her eyes drawn to where your fingers were interlaced, a light kiss to her cheek from you before you took the glass with the dissolved aspirin and ordered her "drink.", which made her drop the tough act and smile, genuinely, pleased by that subtle sound of authority.

she obeyed and drank about half of it before pausing to take a breath and then finish the rest, a pleased "good, there you go" from you, which made her laugh as she wiped her mouth and lightened up a bit.

"do you have some kind of savior complex kink going on, is that it?" she teased, nudging you in the side as you sat closer to her and took in the sight of her eyes finally getting that familiar sparkle again.

"oh I see, you think I am getting off on all this, huh?" you joked, pretending to be offended, which only amused her more. Van leaned back against the headboard, stretched her limbs a bit and shrugged, "you tell me." a pause before she added "I´m sure you loveee seeing me all frail and helpless, hm". she´d slipped into the playful tone she often used when she was trying to get you to come onto her, to make her pay for some out of pocket comments by grabbing her and rendering her weak with certain kisses and touches.

Van was not in a state that allowed you too much aggression, but you had your ways, so, you nodded and said "hm sure, I love having you at my mercy", which made her flush, a hit to her core, her utter weakness for being overpowered by her lover, being toyed with, flustered by them.

you eyed her and saw it, that she was getting turned on as she responded "yeah. you could do whatever you want, couldn´t even fight back, not like this".

"hmm" you sighed and moved from the side of the bed to take your place on her thighs instead, carefully, making sure she was fine as you slowly settled on her and straddled her, your hands on her shoulders then, smiling at her as her face got colored in both surprise and arousal, her hands immediately on your hips, holding you in place, a soft groan as she felt your weight pressing down on her and sighed "okay. maybe I dont want you to leave.." her hands wandering up to your waist, a sound of pleasure from you as you nodded, pleased that you´d won, that she was finally surrendering, going quiet, letting you be good to her, make her feel wanted, even then.

"see, that wasn´t so hard hm" you cooed at her, your finger tracing her facial features in awe, the way you always did in intimate moments, her eye briefly closed as she leaned into your hand, let you caress her for a moment, sounded like a purring cat, until she grew eager for a little more skin contact and said "take this off" while tugging at your shirt.

within a few seconds you were topless, and to give her a bit more you also freed yourself off your bra, leaving you on her just in your jeans, a sight that enticed her to no end, the contrast of your fully covered legs and the soft flesh of your chest, all for her, her hands running down your shoulders over your collarbones down to your tits, your head falling back, a pleased "hmm" sound as she teased you a little, kept her hands over your tits while pressing her fingertips down, feeling you up, savoring the sight of you on her like that.

"come here" she whispered and beckoned you forward, so you leaned close enough for her to wrap her arms around your back and press kisses to your neck, quiet moans from you as she breathed in your scent and kissed her way up your pulse point, sighed to herself, kept a tight grip on your back, holding you as if she was afraid you leave, after she´d begged you to do just that mere hours before.

after a minute or so of letting her have her way, you grew too needy to restrain yourself and grabbed her face to give her proper, deep kiss, to run your tongue over her lower lip and bite it lightly before turning it more intense, slowly making out with her as she caressed your hair and sighed into your mouth, your hands on her face, your hips moving a bit from sheer need, a heat between your legs as you felt her desperation, the way she moved under the blanket to sit more securely and have a stronger grip on you, her tongue soft and warm against yours, her hands firm as they wandered from your hair to your neck, pulled you closer, until you both lost your breaths and separated for a moment, shaking, deeply turned on.

"god.. I want you so fucking bad right now. but I´d pass out, I´m already dizzy... " she confessed, her head resting against your arm, her breath hot on your skin, "the second I am stronger again, I swear to god..." she uttered and gave your hips a squeeze, another wave of heat to your core from the words, the touch, her sudden intense need for you, your hand on the back of her head, cradling her almost.

"we can still do something..." you said, unable to leave it at kissing, so she nodded eagerly and asked "oh yeah? like what?".

"I could.. help myself.." you said, which made her perk up, so you went on "I could jerk off and you could watch, if you want. help me out a bit, touch me.. my chest, your fingers in my mouth, anything", a pleased smile when you saw that the image alone thrilled Van from the way her expression changed, that look she always got when she was hungry for you. she hadn´t considered it before, watching you masturbate, adding to it, when she was too weak to follow her instinct to please you, and it moved her as much as it got her hot, your way of finding moments of deep pleasure and joy to offer her even on her worst days.

"hm.. yes please..." she said and waited, giving you a light slap of encouragement, looking at you with eager eyes as you climbed off her and took your place next to her on the empty side of the bed, pulled your jeans and underwear down, and got comfortable, spread your legs apart, ran your hand over your thigh, a sound of desperation from her as she took it all in, turned her body to face you more directly, leaned over to give you a kiss while whispering "show me, show me what you do when you´re alone", "when I´m thinking of you?" you corrected and smiled while moving your hand between your legs, a nod from her, "yes, yes that´s right..", a groan when she saw you part yourself to slick your fingers up to start rubbing your clit, slowly, taking your time with it, enjoying the act of performing for a devoted witness, for her. you let out a moan as you increased the pressure and felt yourself grow even wetter, already swollen and sensitive from before, the effect that making out with Van had had from you right from the start, you regularly soaking your underwear just from messing around on the couch a bit.

Van´s gaze remained your cunt, what your fingers were doing, how you were playing with yourself, salivating almost, until she moved her eyes up to your stomach, your chest, your face, and sighed "my angel.." as she felt overcome with affection and desire from hearing your sweet sounds, the vulnerability of it all, letting her see you the way you looked when you touched yourself in the privacy and dark of your own room, the distinct sound of your wetness almost making her black out for a second, stirring her need, her mouth watering.

she ran her hand over your chest, squeezed the flesh and got you to moan louder, teased your nipple, hardened it, felt your body shudder and react, "fuck.. please yes.." you whined and nodded, begging for more of her touch, as you rubbed yourself more aggressively, still, not too hard to come already, drawing it out, the ache, to have Van lavish you with her attention, so she did, gladly, her fingers digging into the swell of your breasts, hard, until she traced a path up to your neck, your jaw as she whispered "so fucking pretty..." and swiped her thumb over your lower lip, slowly, touching the tip of your tongue, which got a pathetic moan from you, so she took the cue and smiled as she pushed her index and middle finger into your mouth, slowly sliding them over your tongue, until you closed your lips around them and started sucking, intensely, as if you were giving her fingers a blowjob, perverse with it as you sucked and swirled your tongue over them, as she lost her mind from the feel and view of it and groaned "jesus christ...", trembling as you shut your eyes and savored the feeling of her fingers in you, as you felt your cunt throbbing with the need for release and picked up the pace of your fingers again to really come hard, to use that moment of double pleasure, both your face and lower half stimulated, rushing with blood.

Van licked her lips and let you keep her fingers wet and enclosed by your lips, an appraising "god look at you baby.. always so sweet for me...", only to move her fingers once you were close to finishing and touch your inner thigh, tracing a path up to where you were a soaking mess and helping you out by touching you below your clit, while you focused on your most sensitive spot, her fingers teasing your entrance lightly, which gave you the final push and made you shudder and come undone, the orgasm hitting you hard, your face twisted to the side, sounds muffled by a pillow, Van also moaning as she felt and heard and saw you come for her, to make not just yourself but her feel good, which she did, shaking as if she´d been the one to come as you went slack and laid there, bare, panting, flushed, smiling up at the ceiling as she kept caressing your thigh while you came down form the intense high.

you reached over to pull her hand to your mouth and lick yourself off her fingers, which made her laugh to herself in a resigned way while muttering "you know I might just die from this before the cancer has a chance to kill me.." which made you laugh too, still breathless, trembling. you kissed her hand before letting it go and rolled over to prop yourself up and look at her, "you good there, love?" you asked, grinning as she fussed with your hair and smiled back at you, "oh yeah, perfect, look at me, the picture of vitality" clearly alluding to her tired, worn out state but to you she was beautiful as ever, so you leaned in closer and said "I am looking yes, and enjoying it very much" a tap to the tip of her nose before you gave her a brief kiss, a scoff from her at your comment, which didn´t conceal the pleasure she took in being admired by you, earnestly.

"I am pretty fucking spoiled... some other chronically ill lesbians would kill to be in my position" she joked as you rested your head on her lap for a moment, felt her play with a strand of your hair. "well, I think some others would love to be in mine as well, so" you countered, smiling, but Van shook her head, a bit emotional all of a sudden. "I don´t know about that..." she said quietly "god. sometimes I feel so fucking sorry that I let things get this far. really. it was pretty selfish of me to keep you to myself like this.. like I should´ve told you from the jump, I should´ve made you -" she was falling into that familiar spiral of guilt so you interrupted her, "shhh" you said while moving your head up again and looking at her "easy there, take a breath, okay? and not to be morbid but even if you died right now you´d have still already given me way more than anyone else I´ve been with, and they were younger and fitter, so..." you told her, not lying, still, playing it up a bit, to amuse her.

"well they must´ve been doing something really fucking wrong if I of all people blew your mind" she said, raising her eyebrows, her tone dry, which got a genuine laugh out of you "maybe" you said, cocking your head, touching her arm "or maybe I just love you".

you didn´t plan on saying it but it was true and you had no desire to waste your time pretending you didn´t love her when you had for weeks and weeks already. it was natural, to say it, matter of fact, and it resonated deep within her should, the utter seriousness of your words. "love", she hadn´t heard anyone tell her that in years. she couldnt help it. she teared up, "please..." she begged, almost as if to say "I don´t deserve it.. don´t.. not me..not like this.." but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop you from doing so, so she leaned in and buried her head in the crook of your neck while shedding a few tears, clinging to you, as you held her close and whispered "I love you, I do, I´m not leaving, not today, not next week, not ever. so you can stop trying to convince me."

you sounded determined in a way that cooled her burning mind, so she wiped her tears and held your face in her hands, kissed you, a faint taste of salt from her tears, an urgency to her lingering kiss before she pulled away and said "I love you too. so much." her thumb running over your cheek, your eyes closed, a smile, a reversed image of what she´d done earlier, your turn to melt into her open palm.

you felt the need to be closer again so you laid on her more directly, which got a suppressed groan from her as she laughed and said "ah, careful there.." her hand gesturing at where you were laying, only the blanket and her sweatpants separating your elbows weight from pressing against the spot where she felt the effect of the previous actions. you knew Van was sensitive, but the idea that she had gotten wet from it, that she was soaked enough for it it hurt when you applied too much force, made you want to alleviate her from the ache, to taste her, to have her relax from your mouths work. you loved being devoured by her but sometimes nothing satisfied you more in bed than knowing that you were reminding her that her body was not just diseased but deeply desired, capable of giving her deep pleasure, giving had become more intense for you after youd found out about her illness, and at times she did almost cry from it, your energy of "I will heal whatever part of you I can, I will".

"let me help you with that" you told her as you slowly moved the blanket down her legs and tugged at her waistband, smiling, "I´ll be gentle, don´t worry" assured her when you saw that she feared she might react in an undignified way, lose her composure, faint from it.

she nodded as she felt you kiss her forehead once, twice, before you moved down between her legs and pulled her pants down, glad that she wasn´t wearing underwear, getting comfortable, softly licking and kissing over her freckled thighs before doing anything else, easing her into it, enjoying the intimate, sacred vibe of having her in that weak state, in bed, while the winter sun was casting a golden hue over your bodies tangled in the sheets, your lips glued to her inner thigh, perhaps your favorite part of her, the divine tenderness of the skin there that made every little touch from you send shivers down her spine.

Van was at peace then, free of the earlier intense pain, lulled into a full bodied warm state of arousal, one that wasn´t overwhelming but got some soft moans out of her as she laced her fingers through your hair, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as you held true to your promise and ever so gently ran your tongue over her, gave her kisses and soft licks, teased her, tasting her just on the outside at first, slowly, only the tip of your tongue, before you felt her open her legs further, silently begging for more, so you moved your tongue in deeper, your arms firmly hooked around her thighs, holding her in place, caressing her stomach, more romantic with it than in moments of a shared urgent hunger, your hands eventually moving up to find hers, staying like that as you savored her taste, the deep, barely suppressed groans from her that always drove you to go a bit harder, to hear more of that, her voice strained from what you were doing.

you remained down between her legs were for a while, both of you sinking into the delicious rhythm of it, the faint sighs and whimpers, her encouraging you "feels so good... don’t stop", finally able to let you show her how much you always wanted her without pushing you away but pulling you closer, asking for more, receiving it with a smile, her head pressed back against the pillow as you made "hmm" sounds from the pleasure of eating her out for that long, a brief pause when she looked down at you, tapped your shoulder, met your eyes and said "thank you, for staying."

Van didn´t just mean that exact moment, you could tell, so you kissed her lower stomach before looking up at her again and said "always" as if you had years and years ahead of you, because in moments like that, it felt like you did, everything was forgotten, love collapsed time and made the threat of her death vanish into thin air.

#blacked out and wrote this in one go 😭 which was kinda nice tbh #saw her looking rough and wanted to jump through the screen to shield her from all harm like girl.. thats a fictional character.#anyway I would keep her alive forever I would find a way #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #van palmer #van palmer x reader

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kleine-joost · 9 months ago

Text

Whine & Dine 18+ MDNI

Joost Klein x Fem!Reader

a/n: this too me way too long to write!! i tried to make it smutty but i just can't help writing cute fluff :)

WARNINGS: joost being a MUNCH, reader is AFAB, uuuhhh smoking?, there's a 'good girl' in there too

You’d always loved the process of getting ready for a first date. Choosing the perfect outfit, making sure your hair looked effortless, yet tamed, and the shot of liquid courage right before you stepped out the door, oftentimes it was more enjoyable than the actual dates you went on.

Either the guy couldn’t hold a conversation to save his life, or he forgot to mention one tiny detail like he was still living with his ex, or he’d make a comment about how you weren’t afraid to eat in front of a man. Your love life was a long string of red flags and ghostings. But you always persevered.

Tonight felt like a good night for you; you had a pep in your step and you were feeling confident. The guy seemed nice enough in the short conversations you’d had on the dating app where you matched. He was one of those sensitive, creative types, and he looked just gorgeous in his photos.

The restaurant you were meeting at was only a short walk from your apartment, so you made it there with plenty of time to spare.

You’d never been, but you must’ve walked past it a hundred times. The place always gave off vibes that were just a bit too cool for you, with its ornate lettered sign and rooftop bar open every weekend in the summer that blasted lo-fi beats that echoed through the streets.

Walking in, you were shocked at how cold it was inside. You felt goosebumps prick up all over and a shiver went down your spine. The room was quite loud, the sound of knives and forks clattering on plates and lively chatter disoriented you for a second–or maybe that was the tequila shot finally kicking in.

You saw the golden hair at the bar just by the entrance. A flash of excitement jumped through you as you approached.

“Joost?” You asked tentatively, partly to not frighten him and partly to soften the blow if you’d picked out the wrong person at the bar.

He turned around and you got a good look at his face in the glinted orange light of the restaurant, highlighted with blue neon that shone over the bar. He looked…different in three dimensions. Seeing him properly had you smile, as he smiled back at and stood to give you a polite, short hug.

“You’re early!” He laughed. Oh, his laugh.

You chuckled. “You can’t talk!”

“I like to be prepared!” He feigned offence.

You let out a giggle, the kind of giggle normally only saved for when young girls talk to their schoolyard crush–you weren’t quite sure how you conjured it.

You were relieved when the conversation flowed so easily over dinner. You talked about friends and films and your teenage years. You’d learnt Joost was a musician–he was actually doing quite well for himself on that front–and though his songs didn’t really seem like your scene, you made a mental note to listen to a couple at least, he was so passionate when he was talking about his music influences growing up, it sparked inspiration for you to branch out.

You both finished your meals and they’d been taken away by a very sleep-deprived looking busboy…but you just didn’t want the night to end. And you felt like you’d gotten to know Joost well, but you didn’t know him that well. What would he think about you if you wanted to keep the night going?

You dwelled on the thought as you paid–well he paid, much to your protests– and both made your way onto the street outside. The sun had gone down now and streetlamps let off a soft aura every ten feet down the road.

Joost immediately took a cigarette packet out of the pocket of his jeans and placed one between his lips–lips that you had stared at far too much during the evening–before holding out the packet to you with raised eyebrows, silently asking if you wanted one. You grabbed the box and took one out, along with the bright green, plastic lighter in the packet as well. You tried to light it a couple times, but the spark on the lighter wouldn’t catch. Joost saw you struggling.

“Sorry, it’s a bit old, you have to shake it a bit before you light it,” he said with the unlit cigarette still between his lips and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

You shook it a few times and tried it again…and nothing.

“Here…” He took a step towards you and grabbed the lighter, shaking it a few times and lighting it immediately. He held the flame to the end of your cigarette. “I’ve got the magic touch.”

You both stood on the pavement outside the still-bustling restaurant in a comfortable silence. Between drags on your cigarette, you snuck looks at him leaning against a small planter across from you, he always managed to catch you looking.

“So, uh, did you drive here?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Walked, just live down the way…” You pointed to your right, to the direction of your apartment building.

“Nice, nice…” He trailed off.

“Um,” you stuttered out, getting his attention again. “Would you mind…walking me home? If it’s not too much trouble, it’s just that it’s dark and…”

“Sure,” he said, cutting you off with a smile.

You breathed a sigh of relief. You were always very street smart, and you were pretty good at picking up on if someone was dodgy or not. There was just something about Joost that made you trust him, he seemed very honest, and you saw how his hands shook when you first met; you knew he was just as nervous as you.

As you walked, you continued to chat–just smalltalk mostly, he was telling a story about his friends from school. His face lit up when he spoke about the things he loved, you could tell he had so much passion about music and his friends and art.

You didn’t notice that along the walk, you both slowly started to drift towards each other, not until your fingers lightly brushed against each other. Without hesitation, he grabbed your hand, fingers firmly intertwined with yours. And he never even faltered in conversation, but you saw his smile as you held onto him–a smile you returned.

Eventually you made it to the front of your building. As you slowed your heart hurt just a bit that the night was coming to an end.

You both stood in silence for a moment, you’d let go of his hand now and your palm was much too cold.

“Well…” You started. “I should…”

Joost nodded. If you weren’t so wrapped up in your melancholy you would’ve noticed the same look of sadness in his eyes.

“This was really fun though,” you continued. “We should do this again sometime.”

He smiled, you could for sure get used to that smile. “Yeah, I’ll text you when I’m free so we can get a drink somewhere or something.”

“Sounds good,” you grinned back at him, another moment of silence. “Get home safe.”

He nodded, then leant forward with his arms open. This hug was…stronger than the quick, polite one in the restaurant, you were truly engulfed in him this time, you could smell the cologne he was wearing; something warm and homely, but not like the kind that smelt like food, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it exactly though.

You didn’t want to let go, locking your hands around his waist. You couldn’t say how long you both stood in that embrace, it was like time stopped as you were taken up by him. You turned your head to look at him, he was looking at you.

Without too much thought to convince you against it, you closed the gap between your faces.

His lips were softer than you thought they would be, and his mustache didn’t tickle your face like you assumed it would have. Joost deepened the kiss, placing a gentle hand on the side of your neck. He was being so gentle, like you could’ve shattered under his touch. But you were hungry, you wished it would last forever, getting totally and utterly lost in him.

Once you had pulled away for a proper breath your bodies separated, you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“I should get going,” he said, breaking the silence.

You nodded. “Good night, Joost.”

“‘Night.”

You began to walk towards your building, a smile on your face that you couldn’t even try to hide. You entered the code to get in the front door and opened it, looking back to where Joost was standing. He wasn’t making any effort to walk away, he was just standing, watching you with a smile much like yours.

In a moment of unfound confidence you spoke, not even registering what you were saying as it left your lips. “Would you like to come up for a drink?”

It was a loaded question, you knew it and he knew it. But the aching between your legs wouldn’t let you get embarrassed by your forwardness.

He silently followed you into the building, grabbing your hand that held the heavy, tinted glass door for him as he stepped over the precipice. No words were shared as you waited for the elevator; his warm hand spoke enough, lightly tracing the end of his thumb over the back of your hand.

The elevator was empty apart from you two, and it seemed almost to halt to a stop as it slowly chugged up to the seventh floor where your quaint one bedroom apartment was. You leant against the cool metal wall opposite the doors, Joost was doing the same next to you.

There was an air of…anticipation surrounding you, mixed with excitement, and a little apprehensiveness. You looked at Joost, this was one of the first times you’d looked at him when he wasn’t looking at you, you could truly look at him now, really perceive him. You noticed the bags under his eyes, and how the colour of his eyebrows transitioned from a deep gold to almost pure white. He told you over dinner that he was bullied in school for the way he looked, and you could understand why–kids are cruel–but he looked perfect to you.

He caught you staring out the corner of his eye, he smirked at you. You let out a low chuckle as heat rose to your cheeks when he turned to look at you.

“You look nice,” you said in a low whisper.

“Nice?” He feigned confusion.

“Like you look kind, that sort of nice,” you continued. “Also you just…have a nice face.”

He showed off a proud smile.

Your apartment was warm, you’d left a window cracked open and the August air crept its way in over the course of the evening. Joost watched as you hung up your jacket by the door, pulled off your boots and dropped your keys on your small, cluttered dining table. He wasn’t sure what to do–or even how to stand–as you stepped into your tiny kitchen and opened the fridge.

“I have…some orange wine, but it’s not very good, or I have pear juice.” You looked up at him, fidgeting in his spot near the front door. “You can hang up your jacket, take off your shoes if you like.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, then slipped his sneakers off and took off his jacket. For the first time you saw all his tattoos, his arms were littered with little scrawled drawings. You wondered if each of them had a meaning, you would love to hear the stories behind them all. “Uh, I’ll have some pear juice.”

You sprung to action, grabbing two mis-matched glasses from your cabinet and pouring the juice into each of them. Joost followed you as you carefully stepped towards your sofa–so you didn’t spill any of the sticky juice onto your floor.

“Your place is nice,” he commented once you were both comfortably sitting on the sofa–at a distance.

“Thanks…” You looked around at the white walls that were decorated with framed posters of a couple of your favourite films. “It’s good for now.”

“It’s a home…” There was a look of melancholy in Joost’s eyes, it made you wonder. “I travel a lot, so I’m not really home a lot.”

You nodded, taking a sip.

“I can see you in here though, it’s-uh-it’s very you,” he continued, a small smile on his lips.

Something about Joost seeing you in your home–your haven–made you smile. He’d been so attentive over dinner, and it made you happy to think he was listening to you, understanding you.

“You’re very sweet,” you said after a short moment of silence. You’d noticed that silence was comfortable with Joost, you didn’t feel the painful urge to have to fill every second with a new question or an unrelated story. Conversation just felt so natural with him.

He turned away, pressing his face into his shoulder at that. You saw his cheeks redden. Part of you loved how the smallest compliment made his blush so much, you hoped you’d be able to give him more, deeper compliments just to see what he would do.

You were feeling brave. You placed your glass of the coffee table and slithered towards him on the sofa, placing a light hand on his knee. His skin was hot. He looked back towards you as you grabbed the glass from his hand and placed it next to yours.

“Is this okay?” You asked in a low voice.

Joost didn’t reply, just placing a gentle hand on the side of your neck and leaning forward to kiss you. This kiss wasn’t like your sweet, goodnight kiss outside, there was a subtext to it. You quickly opened your lips, letting your tongues meet. He pulled you closer so your chests were pressed together. You skin felt too hot, you were sweating even as a breeze blew in through the open window next to you.

You parted, quickly pulling your blouse over your head in hopes you’ll cool off. You saw Joost’s eyes widen, looking down at your body. His mouth was immediately back on yours, wet and messy as your hand returned to his knee before slowly inching further and further up his thigh. You pressed your fingertips into his flesh, getting a low moan from him.

He began to press kisses down your neck, settling just below your collarbone. You felt his teeth over the soft skin, and the pressure of him sucking. No doubt there’d be a bruise there later.

“Joost,” you slowly whispered.

“Hmm?” He replied, placing more wet kisses over your chest.

You had to think before you spoke, you could barely string a sentence together with how bothered his wandering hands were making you. “C-can you…”

“Tell me, baby.”

“I want you to eat me out.” You pulled his face off your chest to look you in the eyes. “Please.”

He smirked, pressing your shoulders back until you were laying on the sofa. He quickly peeled your jeans off your hips and down your legs, discarding them on the floor before leaning down to place a gentle kiss at your belly button, then a little lower, and a little lower again.

Once he finally mouthed over your clothed pussy, you were so lightheaded you could barely think straight.

He slowly pulled your panties down your legs, seeing just how much you were dripping. He couldn’t hide the smile plastered across his face at the thought of you so hot and bothered by him.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispered, lowering his face to your pussy and placing a light kiss to your clit.

You were so sensitive, you instantly cowered away from his touch. But he grabbed your hips to hold you in place. It felt like the room went cold, with goosebumps raising all over your skin.

You noticed that Joost was watching you, just for a second, though he just looked back to your core once he realised you’d caught him staring. He dove in.

You would’ve thought he hadn’t had dinner with how…passionate he was. He wasn’t letting up, listening to every direction you gave him; ‘lower’ or ‘more fingers’, and a ‘don’t stop’.

Before you knew it, you felt weightless as he drew you into orgasm. It wasn’t like when you did it yourself, you finally understood all those cheesy romance novels talking about seeing stars, because you had a whole galaxy in your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to come down from the high. Joost helped you through it, bringing you back down to Earth with gentle rubs over your hips and a ‘good girl’ thrown in for good measure.

Once you finally caught your breath, you spoke. “I don’t do this all the time, by the way.”

“Do what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“This.” You gestured to, well, your still-naked body on your couch. You would’ve been feeling self conscious if you didn’t just have one of the best orgasms of your life. “I don’t want you to think I’m a slut or anything.”

He laughed. “Leifje, if you’re a slut, I am too.”

His laugh brightened the room, it eased you.

“Well, we haven’t gotten to you yet, have we?”

xxx

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein smut

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jadeddangel · 1 year ago

Note

I saw that u write poly stuff and my mind was inspired, maybe u could write something where adam and lute comfort reader because something happened and even a bit suggestive if u want:))

EEEE IM SO HAPPY I INSPIRED YOU!!

Lute x reader x Adam

"It's gonna be ok, beautiful"

Warnings: None

Art isn't mine and belongs to @.D4gm4rs on twt

The bed was cold even though it seemed like Adam and lute had left hours ago ,although it had only been 30 minutes. It was your day off.. you had finally gotten a break from everything. You were tired of souls coming to you for help for all these things that you couldn't possibly help with. The worst part of all, though was there was this angel that wouldn't leave you alone, he had been pretty much stalking you. He was trying to get you to go on dates to try and get you to hang out with him.

You were hesitant to tell Adam and lute scared Adam would over react and that lute wouldn't leave your side; you can imagine how surprised you were when they just gave you some love and left for work. And so here you were, alone, still laying in bed, you just wanted to sleep and stay here forever..

You must've fallen asleep cause when you woke up it was almost dark. With a sigh, you got up, tugging out of the bedroom and going to the kitchen to get dinner ready. You paused seeing that there was already a bag of food on the counter.. it was your favorite, and it even had your favorite drink.. you heard the tv running in the living room. You smiled and walked to the living room seeing 2 familiar tuffs of brown and white grey hair. You reached over and covered Adam's eyes from behind him. "Guess who?" You snickered a bit. Adam hummed a bit. "Is itttt my pretty girl?" Adam guessed, tilting his head up towards the ceiling so you could see his smile. You giggled and leaned down, giving him a kiss. "mhm.." You hummed against his hips. You pulled away brushing his hair back out of his face, you tilted your head to face lute, "there's my pretty girl" you mused leaning closer to her and giving her an Eskimo kiss before kissing her forehead. Lute smiled a bit. "Hi there, baby.. how was your day?" She asked sweetly. You climbed over the back of the couch to plop in between them. "It was as good as it could get with me sleeping all day" you laughed a bit. Lute played with your hair absent-mindedly while Adam tugged at the baggy pajama pants you were wearing. "You know I really like this color on you but maybe we should just take it off hm?" Adam hummed slowly slithering his hands up your thighs til he was holding onto the waist band of the pants. "Adam I will literally never make you ribs again if you take those off" you said curtly opening your eyes a bit to give him a glare. Adam huffed and pulled his hands away, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a toddler. You sighed a bit but decided not to deal with it, "Adam will you get the bag of food? Please? I'll give you head in the morning I promise" you bribed knowing he was going to fight you if you didn't offer. Before you could even finish the word head Adam was already up and grabbing the bag excitedly, "deal!", Adam even went the extra fucking mile and started making your plate for you while watching the movie that was barely getting any attention.

The night was relaxing, you and lute took a bath together cause Adam couldn't be trusted not to start something. Then it was onto dessert, another movie and cuddles. As promised in the morning before work you gave Adam head before he left. And you know what maybe it was good luck cause that day wasn't half bad.

You didnt know what happened(Adam and lute beat the shit out of the guy and talked to your boss about easing up on you) but that didn't matter and as long as everything kept going well it was always gonna be a good day.

#hazbin hotel adam #x reader #hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin comfort #hazbin hotel comfort #adam x reader x lute #lute x reader x adam #adam x lute #comfort #x reader fluff #x reader comfort #jaded works🪶

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girl-lostconnection · 1 month ago

Note

I'm flattered. >☆<

I'm very glad you enjoy my silly banter and dun worry, I've got many curiosities that still have to be fed.

And here's a mini gift !

As always, it's oka if you dun like it bb♡

Imagine Elden Ring Au where Ghost is slowly crawling his way in the witch's heart, but witch is already deeply rooted.

Yes, Ghost at first respected and loved you for being so kind and lovely to his sweetheart Soap, but now–

Now it's getting personal.

He usually didn't mind sending you in your mary way as soon as the sun rose, no, actually, he didn't even bother sending you off.

He just made sure that Soap didn't follow you (as per request), keeping him under his arm, protected, tucked in, warm..

Until he minded.

His mouth dry, lips sealed shut, perhaps too nervous, or uncertain about what boundaries to push and what-not.

After all, he had the luxury to stay in your house and care for Soap, but he didn't have the privilage to push any of your boundaries.

Hence why he compared you to a string ready to snap, waiting for the right moment to snap and kick him out.

Ghost was like a dog, a good dog, waiting for a reward for being so obedient.

The reward being you caring for him as much as you did with Soap.

If not that, didn't he at least deserve a little treat?

Maybe not, because you never got too close to comfort.

Nor did you ever push any of his boundaries, (like he wanted you to) and not findin any way to conect to you was pure torture.

His eyes followed your every move, longing for the soft and loving touch you gave to Soap.

If you touched him like that and if he touched Soap in the meanwhile, y'all would fit like the perfect puzzle, or so he thought.

Such a greedy dog. Wanting both owner and pet.

That's why he chose to start soft, askin simple question, makin small favors here and there, helpin around more often.. such a good dog, when will you reward him? When?

You gotta tell him before he goes nuts..

Sorry.. Ghost has already gone nuts the moment your smile met his gaze with lips on his rought skin.

Can he melt on your floor? Can he Pleasepleasepleaseplease. He'll clean up..

Of course he can, you could and would never deny for long such a good and obedient dog.

You may be a witch, but not a cruel one ye?

You finally gave him a treat, it was simple, sleepin on the same bed..

And darn did he get greedier after the delicious treat.

From sleepin on the same bed, to callin you luv.. to kissing your lips.. neck...

good doggy finally got his full reward.

Bye.. I dinnae what came in my mind, but here ya go bb🤲🏻

-🦭anon

Bb. Babylicious. Babylon of my inbox.

I see you like dog analogies and desperate needy Simon…i see you are a person with taste for finer things. May i perhaps…introduce you to Rust in pieces, my liege? May i offer you these modest 10 thousand words of my feverish inspiration that i YEARN to talk about with someone? Put me out of my misery, oh, anon of all anons. Please.

On the brighter note, this is DELICIOUS. I gobbled it right up and I would eat it uppppp again if it came to it. This is some good food, thank you, seal. I love how desperate and hungry Simon is, how he tries to trail the boundary but can’t help but push just a little bit because he wants in-in-in, because it’s warm inside and he’s so cold, luv, won’t you let him warm up for just a bit, no?

Also him being slightly jealous of Johnny? Chef’s kiss. I LIVE for things like that, he is so good, let me kiss him, this big wolf of a man. I’m sorry I have soft spot for dark knights.

Really you are spoiling me, this is so fun and so cool and I’m honestly super excited that you brought another gift (ehehehheheheehehhe) for me, like you can’t imagine. I’m twirling my hair and kicking my feet, seal. Thank you so much, really, that’s awfully sweet of you!

#call of duty #cod mw2 #elden ring au #girl.asks #seal anon #seal.asks #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon riley #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #cod soap #soap x ghost

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simpingland · 2 years ago

Text

The little lights// Osferth x fem!reader.

Summary: Osferth has many reasons to keep his love for you a secret. But there is a limit to everything, and if can't marry you, then he will make his bows during a secret handfasting ceremony by the river.

A/N: fluff and so much fluff!!!! Osferth does inappropriate things here but not specified.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Osferth found it hard to keep secrets, but since it was you, he always did his best, knowing that the consequence of not doing so would drive you apart. However, you always took care to give him a reprimanding look when he got too close or whispered things in your ear.

It had all started when Uthred and his party had let you get involved in their adventures when you were orphaned, you knew how to ride a horse and you were a quick learner. So taken in by father Beocca and Thyra, you soon became something of a niece to the Danish-English leader. To the rest you did not think you were too important. True, Sihtric and Finan were fond of you, as if you were fond of a friend, and Hild also helped you in the few things Thyra could not understand. But from the beginning, with Osferth everything was different.

The instant you rode beside him, his eyes stayed with you as much as the afternoon went on. And though it was Uthred who gave you water and bread to fill that empty stomach, it was Osferth who had accompanied you in prayer to watch over your parents. He knelt beside you, and his concentration inspired yours for hours. You had never been a devout Christian, and Osferth assured you that none of that mattered if you were good at heart. Even he didn't know at first if that would be the case for you, but he soon discovered that it did. It was when you tended his wound after the battle of Beamfleot that you watched over him day and night.

"Aren't you going to sleep at some point?" he would ask you when he regained consciousness.

"When you wake up. I have to watch to see if you suddenly stop breathing."

"And what would you do if that were the case?"

"Punch you so hard I'd make your light soul go back to where it was."

That managed to make him laugh, causing him some pain too, but after that the baby monk regained his colour.

"Everyone here wants to hit me..." he was referring to Finan and his threat to kill him if he died, and though he said it with a smile on his face, you felt a little sorry for him.

"I guess... I guess we're not all as sweet as you. You're always clear about how you feel, and you know how to say it."

"I disagree. My mind is constantly collapsed with thoughts and my heart is in knots."

"Because of faith?"

He nodded slowly. It took you quite a bit of courage to take his hand and stroke it. The coldness he conveyed was short-lived as he squeezed your hand back.

"I have seen true evil, Osferth. And I do not fear it, but I do hate it. And in you I see the opposite of hate. You are...all love."

You needed only the nearby rustle of leaves to let go, hands away again, and you lost yourself as Osferth's heart filled at your words. If this was a test, God knew he would not pass it. The days following his recovery were meals together, walking on your arm, letting him smell your hair, which you washed in the river. And he imagined you bathing with soap made by Thyra. And thanks to the soap it all really began.

He asked you, blushing, if you could wash his hair. His arm was sore and he felt dirty. The others he didn't trust, for they liked to laugh at his monk-cut, and threatened a few times to cut it off for fun. And you took him to the river where you bathed. Holding your hand, he followed your footsteps, without that oppressive sound of metal, for the weapons were outside, that place was pure comfort.

"Lie on my lap" you asked him. And his doubtful face made you question if that was a good idea. "Oh if you prefer, put your head down..."

He sat down next to you, but changed his mind. With the subtlety of a fawn, his head rested in your lap, and he watched you for a moment before closing his eyes and letting the water run over his head. Tenderly, the foam formed on his head and you rinsed him with a small glass. Your hands almost made him fall into a deep sleep right there. But when you wiped a wet bandage over his face he opened his eyes again. Concentrating on removing the stains, you tried to avoid the blue eyes staring at your lips. A moment of weakness and you looked back at him.

Who it was, it doesn't matter, but your noses brushed and your lips followed. There in the river, with the waterfalls dreaming and the frogs croaking, the soap disappeared in the water, but the butterflies in your stomach flew looking to burst into the air. That's what an Osferth kiss felt like. Immense, fresh, pure. From then on, the soap did not smell the same, it smelled like that sweet moment, repeated in a thousand different ways every time you and him were even the slightest bit alone.

You never noticed the looks the others gave you every time you laughed at everything Osferth dared to whisper in your ear. He tugged at your sleeves to hold your hand in the moments when your nerves ate at you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders when they marched far away and you were not allowed to accompany them, and by letting him take you by the waist, Osferth needed a whole world to let you go. Only Thyra would remove the tears that fell from your eyes at night when you did not hear from him. He always came back, and you saw his smile grow wider each time he was made proud among men, when he could bring you a small relic wrapped in simple cloth. His hanging cross was the only thing he kept when you went to the river. And there he would tell you everything he had seen, and everything he had suffered. He enjoyed washing your hair too, and he kept a lock of hair that he asked you for his travels. He cried on your shoulder more than once, and though he tried not to kiss you beyond your face, he soon reached your neck, and you could feel his hands wandering through the seams of your clothes, through the knots he imagined himself removing at night.

"I don't understand, Lord, why if I've been faithful to you so long you put me to this test. Put anything else in the way, I will overcome it, but it is only she who now occupies my mind..." Osferth prayed in his sleepless moments. "I ask you not to use her to break my heart. I feel that all her pain will be mine too."

The prayer could not avail him much, or perhaps it was precisely heard, when one night, one of those merry ones where the ale is quickly drained from the cups, Osferth and you led a secret dance, and where you went, he went. The music was secondary and a mere excuse to touch Osferth's hands so that he could cling to you. And the heat of happiness set your cheeks on fire and you stepped out into the cool of the night. In the courtyard of your house, near the tavern and where no one was yet around, you and Osferth lay looking up at the sky.

"You are a surprisingly good dancer, dear Osferth," you teased.

"That's not much credit coming from such a lousy dancer as you, my lady..."

Surprised by his comment, you gave him a gentle nudge and pushed him to the floor.

"I never expected such treachery from you.... This is not the monk I adore."

He turned you around, leaving you wrapped in the straw, and tickling you somewhat with his gentle grip. The cross hung down and brushed your neck. In the gloom, his face was still as distinguishable as in your dreams.

"I may never have told you..." he sounded sweet and serious, and his hand caressed the bridge of your nose. "But when you were in my care, I thought...I thought I was on the verge of death, and all I could feel with pain and fear was your presence beside me. I thought the Lord was preparing me to go in peace...sending me an angel."

Crickets chirped as you felt the excitement fill your eyes. You smiled like a fool at the sweet thought, and found it hard to believe. You could feel his slight embarrassment and you kissed his cheeks and could not help but giggle with pure joy. What to say to that? That you loved him? That it was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to you? He was the man of words. You only wanted one thing. And that night you got it. Starting with a kiss, the moon saw you finally shed your clothes and he let you explore his flesh. And out of that night came the biggest scare of your life and your greatest blessing in turn.

The news of the pregnancy nearly stopped Osferth's heart while it kept you in a state of disbelief that made you awkward all week. You needed to go cry in the river to come to terms with what was to come. You would never let go of that baby if you were healthy and had the money to raise it. But everything felt rushed and Uthred would not look kindly on this strange union between people he considered family and people he considered a team. Besides, Osferth would soon be off on a dangerous new adventure, and he himself had moral doubts about the whole life. What was clear to him was that he would not abandon you. There must be some middle step to bring you together and make that baby more than a bastard, for he had certainly sprung from the purest love.

"Marry me, please," he said as he brushed your hair away from your face, trying to wipe away your tears as well."

"No, Osferth...not like this."

"Why not?"

"For many reasons...Uthred will get angry with us, and if you depart married then you can die peacefully and I want you to stress yourself so much that you force yourself to survive long enough to come begging me to marry you..." that made me laugh, though you were quite serious.

"Then let's get married in secret."

"No!"

"Why?" he was beginning to stress. You took a moment to find the words.

"Because I've already hidden for too long how much I love you and this is the only thing I have left to give you! I want Beocca to walk me down the altar and I want Thyra to make me a wreath. I want everyone to see me happy because of you. I don't want there to be any doubt in your mind that I'll be happy because of you. Let there be no doubt in your mind that...as much as you're crazy about me...I'm pretty much in love with you too."

Smiling and thinking, Osferth enjoyed your little jokes that served to tell him the things that really mattered to you. And yes, he agreed, he wished to see Finan and Sihtric drink in honour of your union, and receive the full blessing of the man who had brought you together in the first place, Uthred. He needed everyone to see how beautiful you were and how happy you made him without contingency. He took your hand and caressed it, looking at it with a throbbing thought.

"There is a ceremony...less than a marriage, but it will soothe my conscience, and I hope yours."

In the sunset, on that river where you first kissed, a kind-hearted priest agreed to offer ceremony. Witness Hild, the first to have noticed your pregnancy symptoms and who did not question your actions. You bought a yellowish ribbon, like Osferth's hair, and with thread of a blue that reminded you of his eyes, you wove him a cross that stretched to resemble a sword. He, on the other hand, chose a greenish cloth, like that of the plants that grew in the river, and with white thread he had depicted outstretched wings, like those of an angel. When you exchanged them, Osferth kissed the cross while you caressed the weft of the thread, both of you with your souls full. Then the vows began.

In the handfasting ceremony, one did not join his soul to the other, but promised before the loved one that they intended to remain by eachother side in an uncertain future. Perhaps your child would be born a bastard, but the ceremony, in the eyes of god, and in your own eyes, was a promise of good intentions and love.

"I promise to become a man worthy of you and our family. I promise to try with every breath I have left to return to your side. I promise never to leave you uncertain of how much I want to live with you. I promise to cherish the protection I know you give me."

You were somewhat lost in the trance, and it took the priest to mention your name to get your attention. Osferth's cheek, occupied by his smile, was too pretty to look away.

"I promise...to wait for you calmly, to receive you with the gentleness you deserve. I promise to take care of everything we harvest, and I promise to always, always tell you the truth. I promise to help you whenever you ask. I promise to let you know how much I want to see you every moment of every day."

The priest speech was not that important for the last part in your humble opinion. There were many other things to look at and to listen to. And Osferth's gentle caress on your hand made noise. And your little discomfiture of joy that made you sway in your place was to Baby Monk a lovely dance. Though the kiss was not part of the ceremony, when the man fell silent, your arms leapt to his shoulders and Osferth. With bonds forgotten, you tugged at his hand and both of you hurt each other through inertia.

"Forgive me," he said tenderly.

"Forgiven."

With his loosened hand he was able to grasp your cheek and deposit at last the kiss you had spent the night dreaming of. Hild clapped her hands and withdrew soon after you thanked her for her discretion. And then you didn't quite know where to begin your life with Osferth, though really, it hadn't quite begun. Strolling along the river as the day wore on, leaving others to wonder about your whereabouts, neither you nor Osferth cared about anything beyond what happened on that river.

Your good soon-to-be husband held out a hand for you to walk through the water, and when he saw the beautiful fabric of the skirt you were trying to protect, he picked it up before it got wet. And he followed you carefully as you told him how much you would miss him.

"I will pray day and night for you to come home and meet our child," you told him sorrowfully.

"Don't pray for me, pray that they bring the baby to us healthy and strong...I will pray for that, and for you. And I will ask him, if it is not too much, to let me see both of you in my dreams."

You turned to cling to his rib, and he nuzzled the back of your head as you absorbed his scent.

"Oh, Osferth, please tell me you will never hold a grudge against me for derailing you from your calling as a monk? I can't help but feel guilty."

That revelation hurt him a little, empathising with the woman he loved most in this world and the one who would make him the happiest man in a few months. He lifted your face, stopping the walk, and kissed your eyelids.

"You didn't derail me, you led me. This is the life with which I have been rewarded for so many years of dedication. To be with you is not to forsake God. In fact, I can be nothing but grateful to him. If he sees everything, he will be unable to lose sight of all that I am moved by you."

You had to keep walking to hide the silly redness that filled your face, and Osferth's hand on your belly made you slow your pace. And though you were afraid of a thousand things, that feeling was indescribable. The purest state of happiness.

"I think it's going to be a girl," he said, stroking the fabric against your belly.

"I think it's going to be a boy," you contradicted him mischievously.

"They say that boys make pregnant women beautiful. And I see you looking the same as ever."

You gave him a shove as he laughed, but he didn't see the branch behind him and ended up falling awkwardly as he laughed almost completely. Now you were laughing as Osferth tried not to perjure himself from the cold.

"That's what you get for being an idiot..." you continued your walk, your dress starting to get soaked. Something in her look and half-smile made you suspect a thousand things. "Osferth no..." He stood up slowly. He approached you soaking wet and dripping. "I can't swim and you know it."

"Can't a man give his wife a hug?"

"Give it to your wife when you marry her."

"I can't resist, my lady!"

He pounced, instantly drenching you with his big body and wet clothes. And coldness mingled with laughter as you tried to escape him.

"Osferth! You're going to drop me, and I'm going to get soaked and catch a cold!"

You said it in jest, but something clicked in the Baby monk's head and he let go of you. He then ran to get the cloaks you had brought with you and helped you out of the river. He put yours and his own your shoulder. He helped you dry off and turned a deaf ear to your suggestion that he should dry off too. You gave him a kiss on those lips, and he seemed to calm down instantly.

The sun had already set by the time you returned to the house where your friends awaited you, your feet marking distance, but your eyes following each other's like a light. And perhaps, you were just that, lights on the other side of the room, endlessly tinkling, guiding and simply beautiful.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @slytherincursebreaker

#osferth x reader #osferth #osferth x you #the last kingdom x reader #the last kingdom #the last kingdom osferth #the last kingdom fanfic #osferth fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #osferth x fem!reader #fluff

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pupculture · 4 months ago

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Vampire×Human fic under the cut (both OCs)

Inspired by @vamprisms ♡ (this is just the first part)

Tags/Warnings: Vampires, bloodplay, dubcon (vampiric feeding), lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers vibes, morally gray characters, intense physical tension, and a dash of dark humor, lowkey snuff. Idek if this is dead dove don't eat, but it's really not that bad. Or I'm fucked up. Regardless, read at your own risk

No I did not edit it or reread it okay? And I wrote straight into Tumblr so no word count XD

Part Two

Look, we all lie on Tinder, right?

A few extra cms here, bit more cash there. So when I matched with Odette, I did NOT believe that she lived in a castle. Who even says that in 2025? Sure, her photos showed this sprawling gothic mansion with ivy-covered walls and actual turrets; but honestly I just thought,

Okay, she's just an eccentric goth babe who got a fancy photoshoot done.

Her description was charming but kept very vague- "Seeker of the sublime. Collector of captivating moments."- while normally I'd swipe left on someone who seems so... extra, something about her just pulled me in. Of course, it didn't hurt that she was drop-dead gorgeous, with a jawline sharp enough to cut me.

So when she messaged me (moments after the match popped up) with: "Would you care to join me for an evening you'll never forget?" I couldn't help but roll my eyes and laugh. I mean, who talks like that? But then I read it again-maybe twice-and felt a little flutter in my chest. It wasn't your standard wyd or hey beautiful, and honestly, I was intrigued. I joked back with, "Is this the part where I end up in a true crime podcast?" thinking that'd scare her off, but she replied almost instantly: "Only if it's a story worth telling." And just like that, I found myself saying yes to a first date at her castle

I swear I’m not desperate! But honestly, it had been a while. I’d just moved to this little backwoods town, and let’s just say I wasn’t pulling as well here as I did in the city. So, the next evening, I found myself on an embarrassingly long drive down a suspicious, winding road. When I finally arrived, I didn’t even need the GPS to tell me I’d reached my destination. Yes, it really was a castle. And it looked even more dramatic in person—perched on a hill and looking like something straight out of a book, complete with an unnecessarily long driveway, lined with ancient, gnarled trees. The taxi driver gave me a look as he dropped me off, like he wanted to ask if I was sure about this. But I waved him off with a confidence I absolutely did not feel, dropping the cash in his hand before stepping out.

The cold evening air bit at my cheeks as I climbed the stone steps to the massive front door, trying not to trip in my high-heeled boots. The door itself was shockingly heavy, the kind you’d probably need a medieval battering ram to break into. But before I could even knock, it swung open with an ominous creak.

And there she was. Odette stood framed in the doorway, bathed in the warm, flickering glow of what I could only describe as an alarming amount of candles.

She wore a dark, flowing dress that clung to her body just enough to leave me mildly breathless, and it swished faintly as she shifted her weight. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and down to her waist. Her lips were curved into this small, almost lazy smile, like she already knew exactly how this night was going to go. “Olivia,” she said, her voice smooth and velvety, the kind that felt like it could wrap itself around you. “You made it.”

I blinked. "Uh, actually, it's Aria."

Her smile froze for half a second before it softened again, seamless, like she was back in control. "Aria," she repeated, drawing it out like she was tasting it. "Of course. Forgive me, my mind must've wandered."

Look, I probably should’ve backed out then and there, I know. But I had already done the whole drive, and she smoothed it out so quickly it barely even registered. I hardly gave the Olivia girl a second thought—and the third was dashed from my mind immediately as her arm circled around my waist and pulled me inside.

The door closed behind me with a low, echoing thud, and before I could properly take in the ridiculous grandeur of the place, Odette’s hand rested lightly on the small of my back. “Let me show you around,” she said, her voice smooth and elegant, like this was just another ordinary Tuesday for her.

We moved down a long, dimly lit hallway lined with portraits—men and women painted in that stern, old-fashioned style, all sharp cheekbones and hollow stares. “It’s been in my family for generations,” Odette said as we walked, her tone calm and measured, like she was reciting something she’d said a thousand times before. “I suppose it’s... unconventional by modern standards, but I find it grounding.”

“Grounding,” I echoed, glancing at a particularly grim-looking woman holding a falcon. “Yeah, nothing says down-to-earth like living in a haunted castle.”

She laughed—soft, low, and completely unexpected. For a second, her face flickered with something strange, like the sound had startled her as much as it had me. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and she recovered so quickly I almost thought I’d imagined it. “You’re... amusing,” she said, her voice smoothing back into its refined tone.

“Just making sure you’re not a sugar mommy who rents this place to impress her dates,” I said, shrugging like I hadn't actually been wondering that.

Her lips curved into another faint smile, but she didn’t laugh again. “No, nothing so transactional,” she murmured, her gaze flicking to mine, lingering just long enough to make my skin heat. “Come, there’s more to see.”

She guided me through the house with practiced ease, barely pausing to explain the rooms—an ornate dining hall, a cavernous library, a sitting room with an enormous fireplace that I’d bet hadn’t been lit in a century. Her hand remained at my back, gentle but insistent, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t interested in showing me the house so much as getting me somewhere specific.

Finally, she stopped in front of a tall, heavy door. “And this,” she said, her voice dipping lower, “is my favorite room.”

Odette didn't bother opening the door herself. Instead, she pushed me back against it, her body pressing into mine with just enough force to make it open under our combined weight. The movement startled me, but before I could say anything, her lips were on mine. Her kiss was firm, deliberate, her hands cupping my face as if to ensure there was no escape-not that I wanted one. My breath hitched, and for a moment, all I could think was,

Well, yeah, it's a castle, but to her, it's just her house. And let's be honest, showing up at someone's house on a first date definitely screams one-night-stand .

But then her hands dragged down to my hops and coherent thought dissolved into static. I heard the door clicked shut behind her, and she didn't give me a chance to steady myself. Her body pressed me further into the room, her kiss deepening, hands firm but not rough as they guided me right where she wanted me.

Her lips left mine just long enough for me to gasp in a breath, but before I could even gather my thoughts, she leaned in again, her mouth brushing along my jawline and down to my neck. Her movements were slow, deliberate, like she was savoring the moment, and the heat of her breath sent shivers skittering down my spine. I tried to focus, my hands gripping the fabric of her dress, but the way she pressed against me made it hard. "Not wasting any time, huh?" I managed to mumble, my voice shaky but light, trying to break the tension with a little humour. Odette pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, her dark eyes flickering with something unreadable. "Why wait?" she murmured, her voice low and intoxicating. "Time is such a... fleeting thing."

For some reason, the way she said it made my chest tighten and my pussy clench, but her lips were on mine again before I could process it. She kissed me harder this time, more insistent, like she was trying to erase the space between us entirely.

I felt like I was burning, caught between her intensity and the sheer audacity of it all. This woman lives in a castle, I thought hazily. She's got antique portraits and candelabras, and here I am letting her devour me like this is the most normal thing in the world.

Before I could catch my breath, her hands slid from my waist to the backs of my thighs, and in one fluid motion, she lifted me like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around her instinctively as she carried me a few steps into the room before dropping me unceremoniously on the bed. I couldn't contain my giggle at her inexplicable strength, but it quickly died as her hand wrapped slowly around my throat.

She leaned over me, her dark hair falling like a curtain around us. She kissed me again and my head swam.

I gasped as she released my neck, only to pepper it in kisses trailing down from my jaw to the hollow of my collarbone and lower still. Her hands slid along my sides, fingers splayed, as if she wanted to map out every inch of me- occasionaly digging her long nails into my skin.

My breath came faster, ragged, and my heart was pounding so hard I swore she could feel it beneath her touch. She paused for a moment, as if enjoying something only she could sense, and then she whispered, "Is this okay?" The question caught me off guard, but her voice was so soft, so low, that I couldn't bring myself to do anything but nod. She shook her head at me, tilted it to the side, not continuing

"Yes," I breathed, though the word felt heavy in my mouth, like it carried more weight than I realized.

She smiled again, differently now, all her teeth on display and wider than I thought possible.

She moved with that same deliberate control, almost as if she were unaffected. Her hands slipped under the hem of my dress, softly pinching at my flesh until they rested on my panties. A little huff escaped her before she simply tore them off me. Every nerve in my body felt alive, thrumming under her touch. I could feel myself dripping as she glanced at the red lace in her hand and threw it aside.

Another moment and her fingers were already deep inside me. I arched into her instinctively as I felt her nails scratch my pussy, a lovely painful ache and a hiss fell from my lips. Her weight pressed me down but as her thumb pressed into my clit I felt completely weightless.

My chest rose and fell rapidly and I knew I was blushing with the speed my orgasm was building. I realised my eyes were shut and tore them open just to notice her gaze was firmly on me. An almost predatory expression as I whimpered under her and clenched around her fingers. And again she smiled.

Only to pull her fingers from me. Lick them slowly as I squeezed my eyes and held back tears and fought not to beg this women I hardly knew.

Slowly, her eyes still locked on mine, she shifted down my body. I couldn't keep the pathetic, submissive grin off my face as she softly licked her way from my inner thighs to my pussy. I gasped as she softly bit at my clit, trying to pull my thighs together before she roughly pinned them to the bed.

"Please"-

I never beg but I couldn't help it. She gave me a soft smile and licked my pussy again.

When her teeth sank into my skin, it wasn't gentle. A sharp, sudden pain shot through me, and I gasped-but the gasp turned into something else, something I didn't entirely understand. Heat pooled low in my stomach, my body reacting in ways that didn't make sense, and I couldn't stop myself from letting out a shaky, involuntary moan.

She didn't stop. Her lips pressed harder, her tongue sweeping over the bite as I felt warmth trickle down my leg. My head spun, a mix of pain, pleasure, and confusion clouding every thought. Wait... am I bleeding? I thought hazily, but the idea barely took hold before her teeth were on me again, her hunger growing more urgent.

"Odette," I managed to choke out, my voice breathless and slurred. "You-uh-you should've-asked first..." But my protest was weak, barely audible, and the way her mouth moved against my skin sent a fresh wave of sensation crashing through me.

The room blurred at the edges as my body trembled, my senses caught in a spiral of sharp pain and something dangerously close to euphoria. I clutched the sheets again, a gasp slipping out as her lips moved again- this time to my neck. The last things I felt before my vision went dark was her mouth against my skin, the faint, wet sound of her feeding, and my own pulse pounding in my ears like a drum as my orgasm hit.

Part Two

#smut #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #vampire smut #monster smut #monster fucker #dead dove do not eat #my fic #oc fic #Odette×Aria #hornyposting #this belongs on ao3 #lesbians #lesbian vampires #lesbian #the vampire haunter

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tovalhallaandback · 5 months ago

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My Only Wish (This Year)

Pairing: Sigtryggr Ivarson/Stiorra Uhtredsdottir

Summary: What was supposed to be the worst Christmas ever unexpectedly shifts when Stiorra winds up at a fancy bar two days before Christmas aka it's a holiday-inspired fic :)

Warnings: None for now. It's decently fluffy for now. And pretty PG for now.

Read on AO3 // Preview below cut

A once perfectly layered red and white candy cane martini was now as rosy pink as Father Christmas’s cold-bitten cheeks, the bits of silver glitter catching the light every so often as Stiorra swirled it aimlessly. Slumped over the glossy dark-wooded bar top, her head rested on her forearm as she finally gave in to her sorrow while the lounge singer sang every depressing Christmas song imaginable.But at least they chose to come to one of the fancier lounges in Winchester, the kind tucked inside of an even fancier hotel where the bartenders wore bowties and little fitted black vests, and where the white-collars of the world liked to finish their workdays with nightly live music and cocktails that cost more than minimum wage, because she would definitely be risking more than her reputation doing this at one of pubs.

Sure, her cocktail would have been five pounds cheaper, and probably would have had a heavier pour of alcohol, but, a pub, and really any normal bar, was the last place she wanted to be when all the televisions would be airing today’s hockey games. So, she told her brother she wanted to meet here, hoping dressing up and making fun of the wannabe aristocrats would help her feel better. And, it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that this place held a lot of sentimentality for her. Nope. Not at all. It was just a fancy bar. A place to escape and maybe cheer up. Although, maybe she should have just stayed home seeing as the bartender’s small radio by the cash register was tuned to sports radio. And of course, all they could talk about was - drumroll - hockey.

She cringed when the muffled broadcaster’s voice reached her ear again, “The York Danes beat the Bamburg Goddodins four to zero this afternoon, the heathen powerhouse once again proving they are a force to be reckoned with for the second season in a row!”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

Stiorra’s head lifted at the sound of Young Uhred’s voice, looking grossly sympathetic for his baby sister as he returned from the restroom. Ugh, this was what she got for allowing herself to feel her full emotions for once, rather than keeping them locked away. Young Uhtred grabbed his bright red scarf off the back of the navy velvet bar stool, looking way too much like a pretentious uppity scholar than a humble religious teacher at a Nativity school when he wrapped it around his neck.

But, he was trying to be nice so rather than insult him for his clothing choices, she said, “No, you should go. Just because I am being a grinch this year, doesn’t mean you should be too.” There was a reluctancy in his gaze as he reached for his tan-brown wool coat that had seen better days. “Go. You’ve been looking forward to tonight’s symphony performance for months now.”

“Just,” Young Uhtred took a breath as if he was second guessing his next words, “Just please tell me this isn’t because of you and your ex still?” Oh fuck, this was not the direction Stiorra wanted this conversation to go in. It was enough when her father tried to give her dating advice, and now her older brother too? Talking to one of the sleazy finance guys who had been oggling her since she walked through the revolving glass door suddenly sounded a lot more pleasant than talking to her elder brother about her relationships. “It’s been mont-“

“You think I’m depressed because I’m single on Christmas?” Stiorra snapped.

“That’s not what I—“

“It has nothing to do with him. And, need I remind you that it was a PR stunt? Any sadness I had for that ending was for the cameras,” Stiorra flapped her hand towards her brother, “It was never real.”

Pity loomed in her brother’s eyes once more, “So you’re really that bummed about work?”

“Mhmm.”

Today, she was supposed to be in York covering the Danes versus the Bamburgh Goddodins, which was supposed to be her first big break. Until two days ago, her boss decided to gift her an early Christmas present by crushing her dreams, insisting Aelflaed cover the game due to its potential for being a nail-biter (which it totally wasn’t, any person who just casually followed hockey could have told her boss that the Danes were once again going to defeat the Goddodins in a shutout). But what sucked the most about the whole ordeal? She was supposed to… No, she told her self she wouldn’t throw a pity party (or really at this point she should say she wouldn’t continue to throw one).

Besides, she had survived the past three weeks already, so she could certainly survive another week or two more…Even if all all the TV channels constantly aired obnoxious idealistic holiday romcoms and all the streets were filled with couples flaunting their happiness as they strolled under the Christmas lights, sharing pastries and steaming cups of coffee, stopping to kiss under mistletoe…None of that made acid rise in her throat or her heart constrict or tears burn eyes… Not one bit. She’d be fine. Absolutely fine.

#my fics #the last kingdom #tlk fanfic #sigtryggr ivarson #tlk stiorra #stiorra #sigtryggr ivarsson #sigtryggr #sigtryggr x stiorra #sigtryggr x stiorra fanfic #alternate universe #modern au #hockey au #stiorra uhtredsdottir

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ranhaitanisgf · 2 years ago

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Can I have a scenario with Chifuyu with “dancing in the rain” and they are “childhood friends to lovers” Chifuyu gets the idea to dance in the rain from his manga and he wants to recreate it with fem!reader. She usually always goes along with his ideas. Fluff please. Right now it is raining where I live and it gave me this inspiration. Thank you.

— chifuyu matsuno // childhood friends to lover // dancing in the rain

[𖤐] hallo i went 200 words over the limit again cause i have no restraint. once again. im so sry for taking so long but i hope you enjoy anon!! have an amazing day/ evening my loveliesss xoxo !

wc ; 1,2k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“please?”

“i dunno…it’s coming down pretty hard right now, chifuyu.”

“i promise it’ll be worth it!” you stared at the rain behind the boy in front of you, seeing how the downpour was making the gutters in the street start to overflow. your mistake was to look back at chifuyu, who was giving you a look that was akin to a dog begging its owner for food. his hair was already dripping from his walk over to your house, and there was a puddle at his feet from his wet clothing.

“...let me go grab my jacket.” as you turned away, you could hear chifuyu’s small ‘yes!’, making you giggle a bit as you slipped on a jacket. you weren’t sure how much effect it would have against such an amount of rain, but you supposed it was better than nothing.

when you got back to the doorway, you laughed a bit when you realized that chifuyu was already out in the middle of the street waiting for you, the rain once again soaking him head to toe. you hesitated a bit before joining him in the rain, feeling the temperature of the rain before you stepped out from the shelter of your porch.

immediately, the cold rain washed over you, drenching you in record time. you hadn’t expected anything less, taking a moment to shiver before you started walking over to chifuyu, doing your best to push wet strands of hair out of your face.

when you arrived in front of chifuyu, he had a bit of a nervous look on his face, his cheeks dusted with pink as he looked away from you. your brows pinched together in worry, stepping a little bit closer as you slipped your hand under his bangs, feeling his forehead.

“did you get sick from walking over here?” you questioned, raising a brow as chifuyu avoided your gaze even further.

“w-what? no, i’m fine!”

“uhuh.”

“seriously, i’m fine!”

“riiight…” you rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head. “you should’ve known better than to walk a mile in the rain like this! it isn’t even warm rain; it’s freezing! i’ve only been out here for a minute and i’m already cold! really, i ought to just-” your words were suddenly cut off; chifuyu had stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder. you froze, unsure of what to do or say next.

“sorry…”

“er, what for?”

“you always agree to do stuff with me, even if you might get sick…”

“it’s fine chifuyu, i really don’t mind. you just haven’t told me what we are doing in the rain yet…” you murmured, hesitantly wrapping your arms around him. the sudden contact wasn’t something that you hated, but it had caught you wholly off guard, causing your face to heat up quite a bit. you were beyond glad that he couldn’t see you at the moment.

there had often been moments like this, where the line between friendship and…something more, seemed to be a bit more blurred than it should’ve been. neither of you had ever discussed these moments, so you always just reverted back to your typical friendship, going on as if nothing ever happened. you wished you could just come out and talk about your feelings, but you were way more scared of rejection and ruining your friendship that you never did.

“it’s something from this manga i read…” chifuyu mumbled. his mouth was so close to your ear, you could feel his breath fanning over the side of your face, making butterflies fly around in your stomach. “...dancing in the rain and stuff, and it looked fun.”

as soon as he said it, the idea of the two of you dancing in the rain popped into your head, making your heart skip a beat. was that what he brought you out here to do? that seems like an awfully romantic thing to do…

nonetheless though, you pulled together all the little bits of courage you had and pulled away from him a bit, flashing him a smile.

“let’s do it!” chifuyu’s guilty face immediately lightened up at your words, his eyes becoming so bright they damn near glittered.

“really?!”

“yeah!” you moved one of your hands up to rest on his shoulder, the other hand grabbing his and taking it out a little bit. “i’m assuming you don’t know how to waltz, so just follow me, alright? oh, and…” you took your hands back for a second, moving chifuyu’s hands to your waist. “...that’s better. this is the traditional waltz, which is also the only kind of dance that i know how to do.” you put your hands back in the correct positions, giggling a bit at chifuyu’s confused face.

“so, which way do we move?”

“it’s a four step sequence, and you just move around in a box shape. like this…” you took a step back, gently bringing chifuyu along with you. then you took a step to the side, watching as the gears turned in his head. “...and now you take a step back and to the side.” chifuyu did just that, completing the square.

“ohh, okay, i think i got it now.”

“are you ready, then?”

“i think so.”

and so, you two began to dance.

despite the fact that the two of you were in the middle of the street, you weren’t really counting on any cars coming through due to the weather, so you just kept all your focus on dancing.

you had to admit; your heart was going a million miles an hour, and you were glad that the wetness of the rain disguised how sweaty your hand was in his. nonetheless, you kept going with the steps, keeping more focus on going in a square rather than how handsome chifuyu looked with his wet hair pushed to the side.

the sudden crack of thunder made the both of you stop, the loud sound catching the both of you off guard. the boy in front of you laughed a bit at both of your reactions, his laughter infectious as you began laughing as well.

“i guess that’s our cue to go inside before we both get sick.” chifuyu said, stepping a bit away from you. his hand didn’t leave yours though, instead giving it a squeeze as he started to walk over to your house. “i’ll just call home and say that i’m staying at your house until the storm lets up a bit.”

“oh, alright, that’s fine.” you responded, feeling a bit lost in your thoughts as you cherished the warmth of his hand in yours. when the two of you reached your door, you knew that you were going to have to let go of his hand, but you really didn’t want to.

“i saw this other thing in the manga; can i try it?” chifuyu suddenly asked. when you looked over, you noticed the tips of his ears were a bright red, but nonetheless, he still kept his gaze locked onto you.

“oh, sure, what is…it…” your words faltered as he lifted your hand up a bit, leaning down to brush his soft lips against your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.

he stayed there for a few moments before he let go of your hand and straightened up, his cheeks red now.

“s-sorry! i just wanted to try it…!” he tried to explain, probably taking your shocked expression as a way of telling him that you didn’t like it.

“dummy…let’s just go inside.” you murmured, grabbing his hand in yours as you pulled him inside.

maybe today is the day that the friendship line gets completely blurred over.

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ayyy-imma-ninja · 1 year ago

Note

this is a theory, and an inspiration from an audio i heard (i dont remember where tho) that gave me ideas for how fairy eclipse life was before the imprisonment.

{It reveals that young individuals who were treated poorly by their caretakers will often, rather oddly, blame themselves instead of their caretakers for their injuries (like emotional, psychological, even physical if it got to that point). They hate who they are rather than directing their hate towards those who have wronged them. Young individuals immediately notice when they are not loved as much as they might need to be. They understand nothing of the reason for this hardened attitude, but they feel all the pain. Yet, they need to locate some kind of explanation nevertheless. So, they quickly and intuitively settle on one that almost always feels most compelling to them—that they have done something wrong. "why is moony so agitated?" Because they have done something wrong. "why does moony always yell at me when I didn't even do anything wrong?" Because they have done something wrong. "why did moony push me away when I wanted to hug them when I was crying?" (most likely when eclipse was like really new to the world) Because they have done something wrong. "Am I the reason why you guys argue? am I the reason why moon is mad?" (probably eclipse asked sun and they probably said yes) Because they have done something wrong. "why is sunny being so cold?" Because they have done something wrong. "Why aren't they being treated kindly?" Because they have done something wrong. "Why is lunar being preferred to them?"(if they met lunar and saw how they are being treat now, and before the twins started to treat lunar better) Because they have done something wrong.}

this is how i imagine eclipse felt when he was new to the world and living with the twins but i still think he still thinks like that, poor thing.

(sorry if that's a bit much- there is a little bit more. ok not a little there is a lot more =_=; but i hope you like it! :D )

"Young" minds are certainly shaped by those around them :)

#answered ask #fairy au #dca fairy au #sundrop fairy #moondrop fairy #lunar fairy #fairy eclipse #fairy au theories

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obsessedwithpedritoofc · 1 year ago

Text

Mʏ Oɴʟʏ Rᴇᴀsᴏɴ (Fʀᴀɴᴋɪᴇ Mᴏʀᴀʟᴇs)

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Frankie Morales × Transmasc Reader.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 7,3 k.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Both sent to the same prison, with different reasons and different problems to deal with. At least most of them, until one brought them together.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: au, angst, violence, mentions of blood, shots being fired, mentions of death, mentions of killing, allusion to drugs, mentions of anger problems, mentions of scars, fluff, not wanting to have sex, frankies a sweetheart ofc, similarities with the series "time", actual physical descriptions of reader (but not detailed), no use of Y/N (reader is referred to as Lost). (lmk if i missed any).

𝔸/ℕ: hellooo as i suppose you already know, i LOVED writing this shit. frankie is my favorite pedro character and will always be and whenever i write something for him i get really excited. anyway so, this is based on the series "time", which is why it has some similarities to it but i mainly got inspiration from my own imagination :D whatever, im starting to bore myself lol. enjoy <3

𝕡𝕥 𝕚 𝕞𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟

𝕡𝕥 𝕚𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

That was it. You almost had it. You just had to pull the trigger...

"Come on, get up!", there was a firm, insistent knock at the door of your cell. You looked at the ceiling, sighed and reluctantly got up.

Of all the bad days you had —and you had many bad days—, that was the worst day you could have been transferred. Your legs were stiff, your knuckles were broken and bloodied, and the scar in your stomach was making your insides hurt more than usual, though maybe that was because of the hunger. But well, it's not like you could even choose when to be transferred or where. That fight hadn't been your fault.

"Move, asshole", you looked up at him. He grabbed the chicken sandwich from your tray.

"Aren't you a bit too small to be a boy?", he laughed. Some of the ones behind him did, too.

"Give me my fucking sandwich back and move out of the way", you tried to stand your ground, not look weak, give them a warning.

"Oh, lookit that! Little girl's gotten all mad—".

You didn't give him the chance to finish the sentence before you smashed your tray right on his face, making him fall to the floor with a heavy thud. You got on his lap and started hitting your fist on his nose, his mouth, his eyes, everything you could hit. Until the alarm went off and you were surrounded and grabbed by a bunch of guards that took you to an isolation cell.

Next day, you were being transferred to a prison thousands of kilometers away from him. You didn't even know where they were going to take you. But you didn't care either. At this point, you didn't really care about anything.

When you arrived to your new home it was snowing and you were freezing. As you were approaching, the driver gave you a brief explanation of how weather and life were like in that prison. You didn't see yourself living in a place where it was always cold and raining —or snowing, that day specifically—, let alone for more than twenty years and between all those freaks.

Your time in that last prison had been cut short barely a month after you got in. You rejected every chance you were given to call your family or whoever close to you, and you didn't receive a single visit. Not like you had anyone close to you either. The only one that had once been was now gone.

You spent your first day in prison like it had been your forever home. The next day, though, everyone knew who you were and started looking at you as if you were their next prey. Or more as if they knew why you were there. Luckily for you, no one approached more than necessary. And luckily for you, you didn't really have to approach anyone at all, since you didn't even have a cellmate.

A week in, though, a group of inmates paid you a visit while you were reading in your cell. One of them looked outside to make sure there was no one dangerously nearby, then closed the door. The man at the front stood still, looking at you and scanning the room. Then, he sat next to you on the bed. You immediately sat up by instinct and scanned them all as well. There was three of them —four counting the on sitting next to you. You really didn't have much of a chance if you wanted to suddenly run away, but you could knock out their boss and one of them if you were fast enough.

"I know who you are", said the one on your side.

"Before you continue, you should know the last person who told me I was small didn't end very well", you spoke fast, looking at him in the eyes with an expressionless demeanor, showing you weren't weak and that you were going to stand your ground.

"Oh, I know that, too", he smiled. "That's why you were transferred here, right?".

You sighed. The situation was starting to be a bit too cliché and boring for your liking.

"What do you want?", you didn't take your eyes off of his.

"Nothing", he raised his eyebrows. "Yet".

Of course, you thought, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"So?", you crossed your arms. The man beside you stayed silent for a while.

"Do people around here know what you really are?".

Your demeanor immediately changed, shifting from an expressionless one to a scared one. You knew what he was talking about.

But how the hell did he know?

"Who the fuck are you?", you found yourself suddenly lacking of oxygen. He just smiled.

"I'll come to you when I need a favor", he got up and walked to the door, then knocked. The man behind it opened it. "In the meantime, try not to get in much trouble".

And just like he had walked in, he also walked out. You gasped for air the very second you were left alone.

Great, one week in that prison and you had somehow already fucked up.

"Hey", another man was standing by the door now. He wasn't one of the other guy's men. "You good?", he looked around the room as if he was searching for something.

"Uh... Yeah", you frowned. "Why?".

"Those assholes are always up to somethin', wouldn't be a surprise if they were tryna get you in", he put his hands in his pockets and leaned his side on the doorframe.

"Do you want something?", you sounded a bit annoyed.

"No. I, uh, was jus' checkin' you weren't hurt".

"Well, I'm not. Thanks", you forced a brief smile. "You can leave now".

"Right", he pulled away from the door. "Sorry for botherin' ya".

When he was out of sight, you breathed again.

You took some time to think. Maybe if you did what the guy had told you to, you'd be out of trouble. By the moment, the best for you was to stay out of trouble. He had said not to, perhaps so that cops around wouldn't keep much of an eye on you in case he was going to ask you for a favor —you'd be out of suspicion.

You sighed. You knew you were fucked. But maybe you could keep yourself from making it worse.

"Why?", you held up the gun. "Why did you do it?", tears were streaming down your face.

"I had no choice".

"Why did you do this to me?!", you took a step back.

"I didn't know I'd get y—".

"Get the fuck away from me!!!".

And then you shot.

You sat at the back of the dining room. You were lucky to go down early so you could avoid the masses of inmates that fought over the last piece of bread. Unfortunately, the assholes were something you couldn't avoid. Especially the ones that came to you that morning.

"Well, hello", he sat beside you once again, followed by his men.

"What?", your tone was stern, though your face gave away your concern of what he might say. He didn't say anything at first and grabbed the bread from your tray. "That's mine", you spat.

"Not anymore", he looked into you eyes with as much sternness as your tone was holding at first. "I need you to do something for me", he smiled.

Shit, was your only thought.

"What?".

"But I need to know I can trust you before I give you a task".

"No. You tell me what you want me to do and I'll decide if I do it—".

"I think you don't understand how this works", he moved closer. "I tell you to do something, and you just do it. You don't do it, I tell everyone about you. You fuck it up, I tell everyone about you. You tell the cops, I tell everyone about you", he stared into your eyes. "Are we clear?".

You didn't say anything. You didn't want to make him think you were one to submit easily, but you didn't have any other choice either. Luckily for you, he wasn't looking to humiliate you and just let it be.

"A friend of mine's gonna leave some stuff by your cell one of these days", he pulled slightly away. "I need you to hide it and save it until I come get it".

You put on your usual expressionless demeanor.

"Okay", was your answer. He smiled.

"That's more like it", he patted your shoulder and got up. "Good thing we're on the same page".

And like that, he just walked away again.

You looked around, searching for anyone that might have seen you. Everyone else seemed to be minding their own business, except for the man that had gone check on you the first time that group of inmates had gone talk to you. He was staring at you with a knowing look from a couple tables away. You saw him well this time: he was wearing a cap and his moustache barely hid half of his upper lip. He got up with his tray before you could scan him any longer, then walked up to you and sat by your table.

"What did he say this time?", he asked.

"Hello to you, too", you rolled your eyes and went back to eating. "Why do you care so much anyway?".

"Because the last people I saw him approach to didn't end well".

"Well, define not well", you said with your mouth full.

"Beaten up by cops. By himself. Ended in the hospital", he paused to think. "Dead".

You stopped chewing for a moment, then continued.

"And why me?", you swallowed. "There's a lot of people in here, at least one of them all's gotta be in some shit with those guys".

" 'Course they do, but most of 'em want the reward he gives 'em", he took a bite of his own food. "You didn't seem to".

"Yeah, well, I guess he ran outta rewards because he didn't offer me one", you raised your eyebrows while looking down at your plate, having another bite.

"Then why did you accept to do his dirty work?".

"I didn't ac—".

"I saw him gettin' outta here with your bread n' all smiley, you must've said somethin' he liked".

You stopped eating and slammed your hands on the table.

"Look, man. Whatever I do or not is none of your goddamn business, so I suggest you start minding your own shit unless you wanna end beaten up like the last person that fucked around with me", you stared into his eyes, your own set on fire. He threw his hands up.

"A'right", he grabbed his tray and got up. "Sorry for b—".

"Bothering me, yeah, sure, you can go", you shooed him. He knew better than to keep insisting, so he walked away.

You went back to your cell as soon as you were done eating. Damn, you did miss the bread. But to be honest, it wasn't really something you were concerned about. What really worried you at that moment was which kind of stuff was that bastard's friend going to make you hide and what would happen to you in case you were caught in a room inspection.

You hoped nothing too bad.

It was done. You had done it. It was over.

You stood there, looking at the body laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.

Then you heard police sirens.

"Drop your gun!", they broke the door open. They held their gun up. You held yours on the side of your head.

"Get back!", you screamed.

"Drop your gun and get on the floor!", they kept saying.

You saw no better way out of it. So you shot once again.

A knock on your door woke you up. You hit your forehead with the metal bars under the bunk bed when you jumped, startled. You cursed yourself and rubbed the hurt spot on your forehead before getting up.

No words were shared between you and the man at the other side of the door. He just lent you a small paper bag. You hesitantly grabbed it, then he walked away.

You went back inside. You sat on your bed, asking yourself if you should open the bag or not. To be honest, it wasn't really closed, so the others wouldn't really know if you had looked inside. It's not like he had said you couldn't look. Technically, you were doing nothing wrong—

"What did he give you?".

You hit your head again with the bars.

"Dude, what the fuck!", you rubbed the top of your head. You turned to look at the door, finding the same guy that had sat with you on the dining room more than a week ago. "Oh, it's you", you huffed. "Didn't I tell you to leave me the fuck alone?".

"I know", he walked inside. "But seriously, you need some help with that guy".

"Of course, I do", you smiled sarcastically. "Out of the two times he's talked to me, I haven't been beaten up, I'm not in the hospital and I'm not dead!", you threw your hands up. "I didn't even get in trouble with any cops because of him! Of course I need help with that guy!".

The man stayed silent as you gave him your most sarcastic smile. Then you shifted back to you usual expressionlessness.

"Why do you think I need help?", you shrugged angrily. "Is it because I'm not big and buffed like the dogs he carries around with him?".

"That's not wha—".

"You think I'm weak? Is that it?", you stood up to face him. "Well, lemme tell you something, old man. This is not my first prison, and I've been surviving on my own long enough as to be able to beat the shit out of everyone in this place if I wanted to", you stared into his eyes with your brow deeply frowned.

"I didn't mean that", he spoke slowly, definitely more calmed than you. His eyes flicked down for a moment before looking back into yours. "I jus' thought that, in case he wants to fuck you up real bad, you'd be better with someone by your side".

You cleared your throat and stepped back, looking up at him.

"Someone by my side, huh?", you resisted the urge to laugh. "Because I can't handle myself well enough?".

"I already told you I didn't mean—".

"I know", you chuckled this time. "I'm just fucking with ya", you sat back on the bed. "I understand that you feel alone in here and want a friend. And who better than the new inmate, right?", you gave him a knowing smirk. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Shit, you caught me", he sat beside you as well. "I feel so lonely in this prison", he chuckled. "I'm Francisco, by the way".

"Francisco? What kind of name is that?", you bursted into laughter.

"Jus' call me Frankie, goddammit. No need to make a big fuss 'bout it", his mumbling made you laugh more.

"Yeah, Frankie's a definitely better name".

You spent a couple minutes like that, just laughing at the stupidity of it all. Truth be told, you hadn't laughed that hard in months. And you needed it.

"So", he said after a while. "What's in the bag?".

"I don't know", you looked down at the paper bag in your lap. "A guy just came and gave it to me".

"D'you wanna open it?", he looked at you with hooded eyes.

"I don't know", you took a deep breath. "I don't think I should, but they didn't tell me not to".

"Are you seriously gonna do what he says?".

"What else am I supposed to do? He's gonna fuck me up real bad if I don't", you let out a deep sigh. "I'll find a way out of it".

"What'd he threaten you with?".

Your blood ran cold at his question. You could tell how your face went pale, and your knees would have failed to keep you steady if you weren't seating.

"I'll take care of that", you said, looking at the ground. "I'll just do whatever he wants me to and stay outta trouble for as long as I can", you opened the paper bag, pulling a small disposable phone. "Huh", you put it back were it was. "What a little shit", you mumbled.

"It's a phone now, but what if it turns into somethin' else?", Frankie got up, still looking down at you. "You have to stand up to him—".

"I said I'll take care of that", you stood up to face him once again. "Whatever he does to me, it's my problem, not yours", you stared into his eyes. "I understand you're concerned, and I appreciate it, but you can't be behind my ass all day long. I'm not a kid, I can take care of myself".

Frankie stayed silent for a minute, processing your words. Then he cleared his throat and spoke again:

"Right", he nodded once. "I'm sorry, you're right".

"Right", you nodded, too. "Glad we're on the same page", you let out a heavy sigh. "Oof, sorry. I get pretty carried away when I'm angry".

"Yeah, I can see that", he chuckled. You laughed back.

"Welp", you took the paper bag with the phone and threw it into your pillowcase. "I better not use this thing before that asshole comes looking for it".

"Yeah, you better not".

You could tell he was uncomfortable now. He didn't now what else to say. You knew you usually did that to people who tended to assume you were as weak as your body showed. That was actually one of the reasons why you had learned to survive using violence most of the time, and probably the main cause of your anger problems.

Before you could speak any apologies to him, you heard the walls and doors being hit outside, followed by cops shouting.

"Lights out! Everyone get to sleep!".

You looked at Frankie with a regretful expression. You felt bad for having caused him to be so taken aback and awkward.

"I better get goin'. Cops won't see me in my cell, might be suspicious", he said.

"Yeah", you nodded. "I'll... see you around".

"Sure", he walked out. "See ya".

Fuck, you cursed yourself.

Perfect. The first friend you made in prison ever and you screwed up your first non-violent chat. You could swear you had never felt so bad for taking your anger out on someone else.

Wait.

You had never felt bad for taking your anger out on someone else. That was actually what you were the best at.

Frankie was a good man. You somehow knew it. And you somehow knew he didn't deserve to suffer your anger problems as well. You had started off on the wrong foot, you also knew that well. Maybe the first thing you should do to try and fix it was apologizing. For treating him that bad the first times you talked, for taking your frustration out on him, for showing him the you no one like him should meet—

"Hey", a cop outside your door startled you. "Lights out and get on the goddamn bed".

"Yessir", you turned off the lights and laid on your bed as the cop closed your door and walked away.

You sighed, trying to close your eyes while thinking of what you would say to Frankie when you saw him next morning.

A beeping sound woke you up. You eyes opened in a sudden move and you looked around, confused, despaired.

Two cops were sitting beside your hospital bed, not seeming to have noticed you awake.

Suddenly, everything came back and your memories hit you like a truck.

Your unsteady and heavy breathing alerted the cops. They both stood up and got on both sides of your bed. You tried to get up, a stinging pain in your stomach keeping you laid down. You lifted the hem of your shirt to see it covered by a large gauze, a little bloodied.

Your mind was dizzy as the cops told you about your current medical condition, and about the twenty-five years you were going to spend in prison for murder and trying to commit suicide afterwards.

At least you had gotten rid of your worst nightmare.

"Hey", you sat next to Frankie in the dining room. He smiled at you.

"Hey", he made room for you to sit more comfortably. "You get some sleep?".

"Yeah", you forced a smile. "Kinda", you cleared your throat. "I, uh... Sorry for how I acted yesterday. I didn't have the right to talk to you like that".

"It's fine. I'm like that sometimes, too", he shrugged it off.

"No, I mean it. I shouldn't have—".

"Hey. It's okay, really", he stared into your eyes. "I understand you have... difficulties managin' your feelings, and it's alright", you saw the beginning of a smirk forming on his lips. "I've seen more o' those around here and they don't deal with it as well as you do".

His chuckle made you laugh back.

"Whatever, old man".

You spent the day talking to Frankie, walking around with him, getting to know him. Turns out you were right: he was a good man. And maybe he was a bit too sweet to be in a place like a prison, but he seemed to be doing well. You somehow knew he wouldn't have trouble if he suddenly got into a fight.

The next few weeks went just like that. You stuck to Frankie, and Frankie stuck to you. You found in him the first person to be close to you in a long time. You found a friend in him. He didn't judge you, didn't treat you like the rest of people in you life had. It's not like he knew either, but you really didn't need him to know. There were already enough people in that prison that knew.

Perhaps too many, you thought one of the times you thought about telling Frankie.

So you just accepted the fact that he would probably be your only friend in that prison, and maybe for the rest of your life. Maybe you didn't even have to tell him about—

"Well well well", a pair of hands fell on your shoulders as you picked up your freshly washed clothes. "Look who's alone today, huh?".

"The fuck do you want?", you turned around. There was that asshole again.

"You seem to be nice friends with that cap guy, huh?", he gave you a sarcastic smile. "What did you tell him 'bout us?", his expression shifted very quickly to one of pure anger.

"I didn't tell hi—".

"Bullshit!", he grabbed you by the neck of your shirt and pushed you against the wall. "What did you tell him? You asked for help, huh? Like the pretty little bi—".

You punched him right on the face before he even had the chance of finishing the sentence. He let you go and pulled away to recover, touching his now bloodied nose. The men behind him took a step forward, but he signaled them to stay back. And he just laughed.

"I. Told him. Nothing", you repeated. The guy in front of you sniffed and chuckled again.

"Wow", he stood up. "You have guts, gotta admit it", he fixed his nose. "Maybe I did cross a line there. I'm sorry", he shrugged. "Be careful, though. Next time, my dogs won't be as merciful", he looked back at them and nodded. Then he approached you. "You better not tell that fucker anything of our agreement. Wouldn't want the whole prison —including him— knowing what you really are, huh?".

You didn't say a word, but your silence was enough answer for him.

"Good", he cleaned the blood off his nose. "See ya around, little one".

Once again, he walked away.

Part of you felt relieved because you hadn't gotten yourself nor Frankie into trouble. Part of you still cursed yourself for being so fucked up.

That is how you survived your first year in that prison: doing favors to those pieces of shit and sticking to Frankie. You had learned a lot about him —what he used to do before ending up in prison, how he got there, the reason why he didn't get any visits...

You also told him all of that. What you used to do before ending up in prison, the reason why you didn't get any visits... You might have lied a bit when you told him how you got there, but he seemed not to notice —or at least not to mind that you did. Maybe he wanted to give you some space, and he understood that your situation was complicated. Whatever it was, you thanked him in your mind for not asking any more questions about it.

You became closer to him that you ever planned on. He talked to you every day, seemed to be the only one to care about you in that shitty place, made sure you were doing okay even with the assholes behind you. He even seemed not to want to let you go too far away from him, except when necessary. And even if you hated to admit it, being around him —or well, having him around you— made you feel safer than if you were by yourself. You and him both knew you weren't with him for protection —you could take care of that yourself. But he still made you feel protected, but not weak. And you didn't want to admit it, but you knew you had felt that before.

And it really, really scared you.

Of course, you kept having your disagreements with the group. Many disagreements. But you managed to keep it cool so that they would leave you and Frankie alone, which they surprisingly did. And you didn't get caught by the cops around either, which was also a surprise, but you wouldn't complain. Not when you had managed to keep you and Frankie out of trouble.

Yep, I've fallen so hard, you said to yourself one day. You were scared to admit it, but you weren't doing to lie to yourself about something you already knew.

"Well, hello", you turned around to see him standing behind you on the shower stall, scanning you up and down. You quickly wrapped your towel around your body and started getting dressed, trying to let him see as little as possible.

"What do you want?", you made sure to sound upset this time.

"You got what I was waiting for?", he sat at the bench outside the showers. You grabbed a small bag with herb from inside your pants and tossed it at him. He put it in his pocket. "Good".

He stood there, watching you, but he didn't say anything else. You frowned, trying to decrypt his expression. It wasn't the one he usually had. He seemed to be eyeing you with pity, but had at the same time he had a knowing look.

"Want anything else?", you crossed your arms and leaned on the lockers. He kept his pitiful, knowing look displayed on his eyes.

"Yeah", he looked down for a moment. "I wanted to talk to you about something. It's not about me this time, promise", he moved to the side of the bench and patted the spot next to him so you would sit. You reluctantly did. "You see...", he cleared his throat. "There's one of my dogs that... Well, actually a couple of 'em... that know about your... physical condition", he stared into his eyes.

Your heart started beating quickly, anger cursing through your veins.

"Some of them have been in here for a quite some time now, and... Well, they haven't had fun in a while, and since you're doing me some favors, I thought you wouldn't have trouble doing some to the—".

Your fist crashed against his face, this time harder than the last time you had punched him. Your other fist did, too. One, two, three, four times, you lost count.

"You think I'm some slut you can sell?! Huh?! That's what you like?! Fucking little boys like me?!", you spat on his face, hitting it again and again. "You fucking pervert, son of a bitch, piece of—!".

Now it was his fist what impacted on your face.

You fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He got on top of you, just like you had done with him, and started punching your face again and again and again.

Eventually, you lost conscience of your surroundings. Probably one of his blows hit you somewhere in the brain and left you dizzy. You could just feel more pain in your face and head, even though you couldn't even lift your arms or legs to try and defend yourself. The only thing you got to hear before you fell completely unconscious was how someone pulled him away from you and grabbed you to take you somewhere.

He was in his cell with his cellmate —who he usually didn't pay much attention to— when some guy came to tell them some shit about you.

The truth about you.

Frankie didn't want to believe it at first. He couldn't. But the more he thought about it, more sense it made to him. Aside from your short frame and your beautiful little face —focus, Frankie, this ain't about that—, your explosive personality and your obsession over you being too weak or small kind of gave it away. It actually made sense. It was true.

He went that same day —after the night of your encounter with that fucker— to check on you to the infirmary. He wanted to know how were you doing, and he wanted to hear from you the truth of all the scene those guys were making over you. He was told you weren't conscious yet, but he stayed nonetheless —grabbed a chair and sat beside your bed.

He had been watching you ever since you got in that prison. And when the group got inside your cell that day, his suspicions about you were confirmed. You were exactly what they needed. Why would a little man like you make the cops think you were dangerous? Simple, you weren't. That's why they picked you out of everyone.

You were right thinking Frankie wanted to protect you from them. Not because you were small —he was sure you could defend yourself just right— but because he needed to, because his heart told him it was the right thing to do. That's why he insisted on approaching you as well.

He knew you were going to be close friends the moment you apologized for talking to him in such a rude way. And he knew he liked you too much for his own good. But honestly, he didn't care. The need to protect you made him not care at all. It actually just made him embrace his feelings more. It never really bothered him to be attracted to someone. He knew he was a bit of a lovestruck guy, and whenever he knew he liked someone he didn't hesitate to admit it —unlike you.

He told you what he used to do before ending up in prison, what he did to end up in there, the reason why he didn't get any visits... He wouldn't usually tell someone that, but it was different with you. He had the feeling that you understood him, that you could empathize with him and wouldn't judge him for just anything. On the other hand, he knew you were lying to him about why you ended up in prison and why you didn't really have any friends —in or out. But he knew it wasn't easy for you —he had already seen how difficult it was for you to keep your feelings controlled, so he didn't want to push things unnecessarily further. He wanted to give you your space, since he knew he had already kind of taken that from you the moment he insisted on continuing to talk with you.

Or at least he wanted to, until he saw that asshole beating the shit out of you in the shower stalls.

Frankie got there just in time before he punched all the teeth out of your mouth. He pulled him back and hit his head against one of the lockers, leaving him unconscious as well. Then he grabbed you and took you to the infirmary. He stayed there long enough to hear them say you were going to take some time until you were fully recovered, and that you would probably be unconscious for a couple days. He also heard them mention the other guy was better than you, that his time in bed would be briefer than yours.

A cop came to them both and asked them about what had happened. Frankie could only say that he had seen that asshole already beating you when he arrived. The cop could only say he would have to do extra work for a week as a punishment for leaving the other guy unconscious, but at least he understood Frankie just wanted to protect you.

"You did good", he said to him.

Then he went to talk to the other guy. And Frankie could only fist his hands and hope no to break anything.

"I was asking him to help me with something in the shower and he just started punching me!", was what he said.

"What about the wounds on his face?".

"Well, I had to protect myself!".

"Sure", the cop wrote something on a paper, then stood up. "As soon as you're out of bed, you're being transferred to the next block".

A smile formed on Frankie's lips as the guy shouted complaints at the cop. Still, he knew you weren't safe. Not yet. Not even with him away. And he knew his dogs were everywhere —this block, the next, the prison some kilometers away from that one...

But he would still try to keep you out of danger.

The next day, he was in his cell with his cellmate—who he usually didn't pay much attention to— when some guy came to tell them some shit about you.

The truth about you.

He grabbed your hand softly in his, examining your broken knuckles and bloodied skin. He should have known better than to leave you alone like that in the shower stalls. He should have been with you. He should have protected you, like he had told himself he would.

"I'm sorry", he whispered.

Distant voices woke you up. A female one and two males. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you didn't need to. You remembered everything pretty well.

You tried to stretch yourself, despite the way your face was hurting terribly. Still, you couldn't move one of your arms. Your hand was being held by another.

You opened your eyes and saw Frankie sitting beside you, his hand holding yours even with his eyes closed. As soon as he felt you move, he opened them and sat up, staring into your eyes.

"Oh god", he breathed out. A smile played on his lips as he examined you. "You okay?".

His question made you laugh.

"Well, I've been better", you smiled at him. "But I'll survive", you looked around. "How long have I been...?".

"Four days. Well, three and a half", he swiped his thumb over the back of your hand, you figured involuntarily. "They've been taking good care of you".

"I bet...", you looked down at his hand on yours. Frankie pulled away as soon as he saw you do it.

"Sorry—".

"No, it's okay", you were the one to grab his hand this time. "I don't mind...", you whispered that last part. Frankie tried to hold back his own smile. Then something he remembered made it go away as soon as it had come. "What?", you stared into his eyes. He kept swiping his thumb small soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Will you tell me—", he paused to breathe; "What's the deal with you?".

"What do you mean—".

"I know you lied to me, Lost", he tried to keep it cool, but his eyes gave away how mad he was at you for not having told him the truth and having gotten in so much trouble because of it. "I... I already know... a bit of it, but—".

You turned around to try and find the asshole that had shattered your face, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"They moved him a block away from here", he answered even before you could ask. "He still had the chance to spread the rumor, though".

"Shit", you whispered to yourself. You looked down, biting your downer lip and trying to stop your own tears from coming out, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your face.

"Hey", he grabbed your chin softly, careful not to hurt you more than you already were, and made you look at him. "Tell me what's wrong", he spoke slowly. "Whatever it is, I don't care. It'll still be you no matter what", he caught a tear halfway down your face, his skin grazing lightly against yours. You took a deep breath.

"A... couple years ago... I had someone really close to me", you sniffed. "I... He got me... pregnant... And...", you dried off your tears. "I didn't want... I couldn't..." you took a shaky deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "He also tried to... run away...", you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. "He was into drugs... and was told to move... Without telling me...", you sighed in an attempt to ignore the way your breathing was starting to get heavy and your chest was starting to hurt. "I couldn't take it anymore", you sniffled again and looked away from Frankie, unable to maintain your eyes on his piercing look. "I shot him. And...", you lifted your shirt just enough to reveal a big scar that went across your stomach. "I shot the baby, too", your voice broke.

"Oh, Lost", he reached out to grab and hug you. "I'm so sorry", he rubbed your back, trying to calm you down a little. You held tight onto him, squeezing him as close to you as you could.

He kept you in his arms for a while as you cried out your grief. Everything made more sense after you told him the truth. He finally felt like he understood you, really understood you and your feelings. And he finally felt like his feelings were resolved, just like yours.

He had to leave when some cops came to interrogate you about what had happened in the shower stalls a few days ago, but he promised to come back to see you that night. In the meantime, you answered the cops' questions and tried to rest as well as your pain allowed you to.

You got out of bed a week after that. The first thing you did was hug Frankie, since he was waiting outside the infirmary. He took you to your cell, staying by your side and not walking more than two steps away from you. Everyone was looking at you either with a weirded out expression or with hungry eyes. As soon as you noticed, you got even closer to Frankie.

That was the moment you gave up on trying not to look small or weak. Every single man on that prison was now trying to fuck you or fuck you up. Damn, you had never felt so vulnerable.

Good thing I have my brick wall over here, you thought.

Frankie could see the looks the other inmates gave you, and the ones you gave them. If he felt like he had to protect you before, now he felt even more responsible —especially since he had let that motherfucker beat you like that. He felt guilty, and even though you tried to tell him it wasn't his fault he couldn't get that thought out of his mind.

"Look at me", you grabbed his jaw, making him look at you, just like he had down a week before when you were still in that bed in the infirmary —though this time you were in your bed. "It wasn't your fault. I told you it was my problem and that I'd deal with it, and so I did".

"I know", he stared into your eyes. "But if I had done something, if I had gone talk to him or—".

"You couldn't, Frankie", you tightened your grip on his jaw. "Look, he had threatened to tell everyone if he found out I told you anything. It would've happened sooner or later, I just exploded when he asked me to do that with he and his men", you let go of him. "Think about it this way —if you hadn't come just in time to stop him from beating me to death, I wouldn't be here right now", you patted his thigh. "So you saved me anyway. And I also got you to keep me away from those creeps", you both laughed at that.

"I guess you're right", he sighed. "Still sorry".

"Didn't I just tell you not to be?", you crossed your arms and stared into his eyes with a frown. He couldn't help the smile that crept on his lips.

"But I still am", he crossed his arms as well. "What, am I not allowed to be?".

"Not if I tell you not to be".

"Ooh, getting bossy", he chuckled. "I like that".

"Okay, now you're acting like one of those freaks out there".

"Come on, y'know I'm not like—".

"Shut up, old man".

You grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, passionate, nice kiss. Frankie stayed still for a moment before replying with just as much passion. You then pulled away to look into his eyes. You were both smiling.

"Wow", he whispered. "Didn't think you'd take the lead".

"Well, someone had to, and you didn't seem to be going to, so...", you grabbed his hand. "I couldn't bear the sexual tension anymore".

"Oh, sexual tension?", he rolled on top of you. "We can fix that...".

"No! Gross! Get away!", you laughed and pulled him off of you.

"Why?" he approached again, leaning down to leave a trail of small kisses down your neck. "I wanna...".

"Frankie, no", you pulled him off again, this time with a serious look on your face. Frankie's smirk was immediately deleted when he saw you, and seemed to be asking for an explanation. "I... I can't", you looked down. "Not like this, I'm... not ready", you cleared your throat before looking back up at him.

"M'kay", he grabbed your hand once more. "We won't do anythin' you don't wanna".

You smiled at him, thankful. He understood that you needed space and you weren't ready yet to show him that part of you. And he would respect you and your decision not to. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, make you push him away from you. So he put it back in his pants and gave you a comforting smile.

He stuck with you all the time, by your side, not daring to leave you alone. Whenever some guy would look at you with a weird face, he gave him a warning look —or push him away from you both. He didn't let anyone other than the cops get close to you, which you thanked him for in multiple occasions. For once in a long, long time, you weren't afraid of being too small or weak. You weren't worried about your looks anymore. You weren't worried about anything with Frankie beside you. He was your only reason to want to keep going despite being in a place such as that damned prison. The only reason why you wanted to keep going at all.

The only reason why you preferred spending twenty years in prison before being back out in that shitty world.

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