#mmm such a fair battle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

braaan · 1 year ago

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In all the ways that matter (w/ Yunjin)

male reader & lesserafim yunjin

smut & angst & fluff (the one where you want more of what’s already yours), 6k words

Let’s be honest: you don’t deserve Huh Yunjin.

She’s an ambitious mishmash of love languages. But from the way she’s always including you in wishlists back to her parents in New York, how she’s always testing new big-stretch-and-yawn-at-the-movies level ways to get her hands on you, or how she’s going on her eighth permutation of pet names and emojis for you on her phone (it’s been POOKIE🧸🦷🤭💙 for the past 2 weeks — your longest running), anyone would guess that she was fluent across the board.

And that’s only while you’re pretending that looks don’t matter.

Because whenever it feels like you have to chalk up a point for Yunjin’s personality, one of her physical features always stops you at the blackboard.

Yunjin looks like she was grandma-knit: finished patiently and smoothed tender. Where skin would normally crease, Yunjin softens. And between the way her eyes sweeten into crescent moons when she laughs, how her lips always find a way to ease back into their permanent pout, or how perfectly her chin nestles in between your fingers, there was nothing about her that didn’t compete to be your favorite.

But all of them have to settle for second best.

Because your favorite thing about Yunjin is her eyebrows.

They waltz between well-learned battle lines on her forehead, stretching emphatically behind boundaries they know other features did not dare cross, because compared to the rest of her face, they’re bold. They explode from sienna to whiskey and hook insultingly fast, threading down to points so sharp that it only feels right to dot them at the end like exclamation marks, putting a megaphone to the stories that her eyes tell. Only on Yunjin’s face does softness ring loudly. Eye contact morphs into reverie, amusement magnitudes up into hilarity, and tenderness becomes love.

You think it’s unfair.

It’s unfair that the reasons you could fall in love with her are endless. It’s unfair that she can simultaneously make the world the two of you share both so tiny, special, and unreplicable and then larger than life, ever-expansive, and infinite. And it’s unfair that she makes doing all of this at the same time look so effortless.

It’s a high bar to clear.

But you try anyway.

If not to at least get close to the standard she sets, for the sex.

The two of you are practically asking for it the time you get caught.

Standing at the far end of a HYBE practice room, it’s all so fitting: under the only lit floodlight, her on her knees, your cock at attention inches from her lips, tension teetering above climax — Huh Yunjin was going to give you a performance.

She’s kissing at the bottom of your shaft, lingering half a second longer each time as she slowly makes her way up your length. She mewls, ad libbing your grunts with soft, venom-laced yeah?s.

“You sound so pent up,” she starts, thumbing your cockhead counterclockwise.

You give her bits and pieces of an affirmative response: you let out a forced breath somewhere between a grunt and an exhale, grip your cock tighter, and pinch one of her nipples with your free hand. She translates.

“Mmm?” Yunjin purrs. She runs the flat of her tongue long across your entirety, flicking up as she reaches the tip.

You’re gripping at anything you can to stay alive. Trying to keep the facade up that you can compete. You splay your free hand and grab at her chest, playing dirty; grasping for a reaction. She plays your game and picks up the rhythm on your cock.

“You don’t want to just paint my face right now?”

Your breath is hot on your lips, tight in your chest. You’re parrying, blocking, countering. You look deep into the pools of honey bourbon in her eyes. You’re falling into the abyss.

Who fights fair with a poisoned blade? Yunjin? Not with the tears dotting the corners of her eyes; not with the drool running down her chin. Her cheeks are hollow as she swallows further and further down your cock. Her lips brush the base of your shaft. It feels good. She knows it feels good, the way she’s looking back up at you; the way you’re groaning.

She raises her eyebrows.

You cum.

And despite all of the preposition, conviction building, and white-knuckle–steeling, you think, you don’t really ever lose. Because the moment you ride out your orgasm, it’s great.

You can’t compete. You kick off the cliffhanger and throw yourself into freefall. You see white flashes where there used to be color, and the tightness under your stomach evaporates into a vacuum: hot, and all at once. You can fully exhale and for what has to be a full minute, you die.

And as usual, after she makes peace with killing you, Yunjin brings you back to life.

She kisses the top of your cockhead before sitting back on her heels. Under the spotlight, sweat literally shimmering, she’s glowing, and she’s ethereal. Her tongue darts at the sides of her mouth before retreating, replaced by her bottom lip, equal parts pink and proud; satisfied and smug. She grabs at a small towel sitting next to her before beginning to clean up, dabbing at where you’d made a fucking mess out of her face.

But not before the door to the practice room opens. Your stomach shatters, and everywhere you just felt warm goes cold. A woman takes the empty space in the doorway, starts in your direction, and continues way too fast.

Your brain is instantly numb, and you scramble for something further than a stone’s toss away from the plot of a cheap porno. She slipped on her towel and grabbed my zipper on the way down! What do you mean Yunjin’s in this room with us? My COCK? God no, this is a thermometer that just looks a lot like- You don’t get far.

And before you try at reasoning that would effectively end you on the spot, the woman gets close enough. She yelps, producing a folder from behind her to try and shield you from any further consequences.

“Can you put-” she shakes her hands — folder and all — in your general direction, “everything away?”

Jolted awake, you scramble at your pants at your ankles, pulling anything your fingers brushed against in the direction you thought was closed. In hindsight, the zippers for your pants pockets probably didn’t matter much, but you zip those too, hoping the thought counted. Yunjin reappears next to you, the straps of her newly stretched tank top sitting awkwardly on top of her shoulders, now resembling probably anything else closer than they would elastic.

The woman gingerly peeks an eye over at the two of you and lets out a deep, full exhale. “Good, phew!”

“You would think we’d have that practiced by now,” she tuts, using what was once her plastic barrier to fan herself. She shoots a dirtier glare at Yunjin before turning towards you, and her expression visibly softens. “Oh! Same guy!”

And instantly, anything that would give off that she was disappointed just a moment ago dissipates, and is replaced by genuine admiration.

“I respect that you guys are trying to make the dating thing work!”

There were some things that practice wouldn’t get you used to.

See, when you and Yunjin first started dating, you expected a little bit of onboarding. A little bit of catching up to speed: When were her parents’ birthdays? Was she allergic to anything? What were her favorite movies? For extra credit, you’re even brushing up on the idol industry: How long was a comeback promotion period? What was an aegyo? — the usual.

But you’re still taking notes to this day.

(It’s a Saturday a couple of months ago, and you and Yunjin are snaking through the aisles of a thrift store.

“And Chaewon’s seeing them?"

Okay: Yunjin’s snaking through the aisles of a thrift store. You’re trailing behind her, making sure you connected all the right dots together.

“Nope,” she says, eyes scanning a tattered band tee. Then, equally nonchalantly: “Idols get horny, too. Dating just makes things messier than they need to be.”

There’s an expectant pause, then Yunjin turns to look at you.

“Not that that’s a rule or anything,” she adds, placing a hand on yours as if to close the lid on any implication that tried to escape. “It’s just not most people’s style.”)

‘Given’ was probably the word for it, you think. The idol industry collected teenagers at their most formative periods, and where others their age condensed pre-calculus and high school breakups, they learned choreography and how to introduce themselves across the language spectrum. When other kids’ hormones flared up and made them deal with acne, they were digitally edited, scrubbed clean, and hidden behind locked doors. An industry formed on cherry-picking highlights had to have a gnarly underbelly — what would be taboo had to be a given — and it probably only helped that everyone had to look like sex.

So you try to catch up and blend in. Try to not get hung up on how casually sex, drugs, and secrets are laced in sentences. Try to take what Yunjin says at face value.

Still, as her manager leads you through the lobby towards the revolving doors, and you’re bowing profusely as you try to apologize for what she brushes off as not the first time and very normal, there’s a certain edge about it all. Like no matter how airtight Yunjin’s grip tried to be, that you were fortifying a house of cards with pillars of paper mâché.

And it sure as hell didn’t help that halfway through the lobby, you trade greetings with her fake boyfriend.

There were some things that practice wouldn’t get you used to.

So get this: your girlfriend was going to be one half of a manufactured dating scandal.

She stood too close to another idol at a variety show, and online forum sentiment was eating it up (or something like that). There it was: a full page, in bold. All over social media. Yunjin, and the boy with the jawline and swoon-inducing eyes (not that you were jealous), everywhere at once, and on the tips of everyone’s tongue. The buzz brought eyeballs to her group debut, and what better way to snowball that momentum than to confirm it?

Yunjin just didn’t know that you knew yet.

And for your sake, it was probably for the better that she thinks her secret was safe. Firstly, because you don’t know how to feel about how you get the information. You were both at the pinnacle of industry — dating an idol — and at the mercy of it — cobbling together information from vague fan accounts, building a list of social accounts that got leaks right; irony never played fair.

And secondly, because you didn’t know how to bring it up.

Truth be told, you don’t know how to feel about it. You don’t know how you’re supposed to feel about it. You’re equal parts ruptured and reductive. Half of you thinks it borders on trust, and the other half scolds you for thinking that way: that you signed up for this, and don’t know how to compromise. Half of you imagines what they talk about when you’re not around: how far he’ll go to convince the public of a relationship, and the other half thinks you have no self-esteem for stooping that low.

All of you yearns for Yunjin. Because where there were all the things that you had to get used to, there were also the FaceTimes. The phone calls of complete silence when she just wanted someone to listen but was too exhausted to recount what practice was just like. The joy on her face when she told you that was going to debut.

Imposing would be selfish. She deserved everything she worked for, and you don’t even come close to par. Under it all, through the glitz, you see the Huh Yunjin that you fall in love with over again every single day, and she had too tight of a grip on your heart for you to break hers.

So you don’t bring it up, and wait for her to.

It’s quite literally pathetic the way notifications on your phone evoke a physical response out of you. Like it fires a neuron, you’re diving hands outstretched every time you hear it chime.

Sure, it hasn’t paid off yet — you’ve dropped literally everything to be greeted by promotional emails, pushes about the weather, and pings on the latest discounts — but you’ll hold your breath.

Though as you pick yourself up off the floor from familiar disappointment at another non-Yunjin notification, you can’t say that you’re less confused. And you’ve caught yourself multiple times today way too deep in somber tangents for some of it not to start sticking.

The loudest of them all stemmed from the fact that it felt like the answer was implied. That if there was nothing to it, it’d be easy to talk about. That if it was anything like the dating mantra, since it didn’t apply to the two of you, Yunjin would address it at face value.

And tautologically, because she didn’t, it wasn’t.

It’s the end of the week when Yunjin finally texts you.

have dinner plans tonight mister? :)

You draft two texts. The first makes you sound sixteen: obnoxiously sad about the state of affairs of literally everything. The second makes you sound sociopathic: blunt, deflecting, and not enough emojis. You send a third.

Nope! What do you have in mind?

Before long, you’re sitting on a blanket overlooking the Hangang. The sun’s setting, playing a global game of cat and mouse: light spills through the gaps in willow trees, gazebos, and construction, highlighting pockets of parkground with its blessing of orange-red. You’re where the surface area’s the largest, like the paper bowls of ramen didn’t anchor the blanket down enough, and the sun’s rays are what did the trick.

Or, technically speaking: bowl of ramen.

Because while Yunjin was three-quarters of the way finished with hers, sneaking bites in as she took breaths in between practically spoiling her next comeback, yours was virtually untouched. You made do with spinning the floating egg in your bowl dizzy.

“You know,” Yunjin starts, “you didn’t have to come out if you weren’t hungry.”

You look up at her. Her head’s cocked at an angle, piqued such that it catches sunlight. In the glow, she’s beautiful.

“I’m a big girl now,” she emphasizes. “You can tell me no. I might cry myself to sleep after, but — you know — in a big girl way.”

Her eyes curl up into tiny moons like they always do, and you give her a weak response.

It’s tightrope thin. Yunjin’s prodding, expecting you to riposte, poking at things she knows will get a reaction out of you; you don’t bite. You’re both expecting an answer. Your heart is jackhammering at your chest, and between the punctuation, in the offbeats, you want to yell. You want to find out if your house of cards is built on sand.

The both of you are walking back towards HYBE, along the scenic route that you always take, and only someone purposely oblivious would guess that everything was fine.

“Do you,” Yunjin perks up, trailing off, “not like the comeback?”

You don’t say anything.

“Maybe,” she pokes again, “you’re grumpy because I haven’t been texting you?”

You feel her eyes peek at you then retreat. In your peripheral vision you see her purse her lips, nod, and then smirk. You hear a tiny breath.

“Are you,” and she lets out an exaggerated gasp, “seeing someone else?”

“I know about your scandal, Yunjin,” you blurt out, and it's too fast for either of your own goods.

There’s a beat. You both stop walking. You turn her way.

“Your dating scandal — your fake boyfriend — whatever.”

Yunjin isn't great at hiding her emotions — her eyebrows give it away. You see her face gradient across shock, then consideration, before landing on shame. Her eyebrows knit, and she can’t meet your eyes.

There’s another beat. You can hear your heart thump in your ears, and despite the autumn at night, you’re hot. You’re searching her face for a tell, some semblance of an answer; anything.

You’re imposing.

And for the first time in the past week, you’re thinking of her. Of her today and her in the past. Of all the work she put in to get to where she wanted to be. Of what she had to give up to have tonight with you. Of all the nights before this, and the many she had to cancel abruptly because work came up. Of her being here now, and you selfishly making this about yourself.

You’re imposing, and it feels like shit.

“I’m-,” Yunjin starts, voice shaky.

You look at her, and there’s tears pooling in her eyes.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” she continues slowly, and then the surface tension breaks. She shuts her eyes tight, and then she’s crying. “It’s in the contract we signed. It helps our comeback.”

You hear the Huh Yunjin that you first fall in love with. Before the glitz, before she had to pretend like she was an adult-

“I don’t know what to say.”

- before she had to hide anything from you.

(The two of you are in front of the HYBE building, and she’s giving you shit for how messily you eat. It’s a late spring, and Yunjin’s hair is shoulder-length and cherry oak. You’re missing a lecture on the pigeonhole principle, and she’s dodging her manager — sea salt ice cream was seasonal, after all.

“How did you get it on your nose?” She chides you, dabbing around your mouth with a scrunched napkin. “They should have you give your I.D. to see if you can handle a cone instead of a cup. Nine-year olds can do this better than you.”

“What if you don’t debut, Yunjin?”

You were always good at telling it like it was, even if you had to disregard social tact. But you had a point. Yunjin was going on her third trainee year, and internally, it didn’t look like it was going to be her last.

There’s a couple of beats before she softens.

“I don’t know.”

It’s a side of her that really only you do. Under the spunk and the character she has to amplify, there is fear: that she’s taking too large a gamble, that she’d be perpetually behind if she didn’t make it, that it’d be safer if she just did what everyone else was doing.

She can’t meet your eyes, and she’s fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“I just think things tend to happen for a reason,” she says, with more resolve than you expect. “And I don’t think it’s worth it to question it deeper than that.”

“How much of that is because you’re scared of the answer?”

There’s a pause, and the implication is clear.

“Do you always hate to have just a cute, fictional moment?” You look down at her, and she’s expecting it, staring back at you, eyebrows knit, lips in an exaggerated pout. “We can’t just — I don’t know — kiss and end things on the high note?”

You break, and let out the unflattering start to a laugh. She’s deflecting, and you know to let it go. In your heart of hearts, the two of you know that you’re both right. That there’s fear in uncertainty — a lot of it — but also hope. That big payoffs don’t come if you don’t gamble it all.

You lean down and kiss her on the nose.

She’s staring at you as she walks all the way back through the revolving doors, a smirk across her lips, and the unmistakably blue speck of sea salt ice cream on her nose. She’s yelling, letting you know to let the rest of your face have some ice cream, too.)

And you’re staring at her, wishing this time was half as picturesque. She doesn’t have the words; she doesn’t have to. Asking the hard question was your thing. She’s pleading, frantically, and her watery eyes are beckoning. You want to tell her that it’ll all play out, that things happen for a reason; you don’t have to — that was her thing.

Under the soft, streetlamp glow, you see the Yunjin the public doesn’t — the uncertainty, the gamble, the fear. You hear the desperation in the dark days; the resolve, unconvincing yet unabashed, that what was far out was not so; the throughline: that if she pretended to be convinced, maybe you would, too.

You see the Yunjin you love, and you’re so fucking whipped.

You thumb the tear trailing down her cheek. You’re defeated, and it bleeds into your voice, but never going to pass on hitting where it hurts. “What happened to changing the idol industry?”

She chokes back a laugh through tears. “Okay,” she starts, and through the sarcasm she tries for — and how muddy it was between sniffles — she’s glad to hear your voice. “It’s the goddamn industry. What am I supposed to do in the debut video: admit defeat? Who’d watch that?”

“Sorry, it’s just — all of it — so dumb,” she adds for good measure, swiping at her eyes.

Hanging in the night, in the words unsaid, in between the watery sarcasm and the tension quickly evaporating, it’s clear. The two of you resolve a silent conversation. You’re punctuating her apologies with eye rolls, and she wants to hear you say you love her, but she knows that already. You say you don’t deserve her, and she calls you stupid.

Tears hot down your cheeks, you’re both laughing now, bouncing off of each other. And then, into the what’s next of it all: “I can try to get out of it,” Yunjin says.

It’s cathartic and real, and should disarm you.

But you say no.

Down to your cores, you and Yunjin were infinitely kindred. Intertwined forever, etched in the books of fate with permanent marker. You were after each other's hearts, molded from the same cosmic clay. You had each other in all the ways that mattered, and that would never change.

The last stop on your train home is when you get the notification.

are you headed home?

And in the moment, you catastrophize. It was in the middle of the weekend of her comeback. What was she thinking? Did something happen? How far were you away from HYBE?

But even if you played the same situation back a hundred times over, there was no way in hell you’d get to the conclusion that Huh Yunjin was in your foyer, behind your door, and wearing what didn’t leave much to imagination.

“Yunjin-” you try and start, before you’re kissed quiet.

Her hands are on top of yours, leading, as you smooth down the creases of her vanilla crop top and run your thumbs down her body. Your fingers are fluid, filling the divots, tracing along the lines, running the valleys of muscle in the flat of her stomach. Between bouts, as her lips linger inches away from yours, for a moment uncaptured, you breathe in air nonvenomous, and try to grapple with it all, scrambling for something to hold on to before your brain short circuits.

You’re sinking, and you don’t know how to wrestle rights from rudimentaries. Yunjin’s eyes, glazed over, zero in on yours, and she kisses you again. Her lips are sweet and have a bite to them, yours smack as you swallow the venom thick on your tongue. She pulls away, you come up for air.

Standing in the soft, orange-yellow glow of light from the room adjacent, you see the Yunjin the public does — the siren, sultry and seductive: her eyes, soft, malleable, and unassuming — how she could convince you that your name was something else entirely if she looked at you head on — her lips, venom-laced and tantalizing — how she’d push the agenda.

Except this time, you’re finally lucid, and you see the parallel. In the muscles — impressive in the light, but meek at the same time, like it split moments in the spotlight with softness — in the eyes — perpetually provocative, but infinitely innocent — in the perfect unattainable. Everything is polished, nudged purposefully in its direction. It’s all artificial, doctored, and done up.

Huh Yunjin is a product of industry, and you were going to fuck it out of her.

Yunjin’s smirk dismantles as you rip your hands from her grip. It completely falls apart as you pull her into you face first, thumbs across her cheeks. And as she tries to pull back, you’re keeping her where you want her, kissing into the poison. Her hands grab at your chest; at your dress shirt, half foregoing permission, pulling buttons apart, and half to steady herself as you move your dance deeper into your living room.

You’re leading this time, and as your knees bump brown velvet, you’re able to rasp: “Yunjin, on the couch.”

“How do you want me?” she whispers, breath hot on your lips.

“Legs apart.” You push her into the middle seat, and her hands are working at her shorts. There’s an audible zip, and they’re on your hardwood.

And as you’re kneeling down into the negative space in between Yunjin’s thighs, in the seconds, sultry and slow-burn, you catch a glimpse of her face. Spread across the finger in her mouth, eyes half-lidded, and eyebrows upturned, you think you see anticipation. Like you were going to rip Yunjin apart, and — straying away from what she was taught, coloring outside the lines — she might let you.

You test the theory: you take her into your mouth.

And you don’t think you’ve heard an exhale more pained.

You’re generous — lapping at her heat through lace, grazing against her clit — and with variety — kissing her inner thighs, nipping at skin. Yunjin’s sensitive and unintelligible.

“Fuck,” she manages to get out, her hips bucking, searching for more of you. One of her hands tries to meet you where you are, to pull her panties to the side, to feel you on her. But you redirect her to where you want her to be: your free hand on her wrist, you lead her up her chest. And though reluctantly, she translates. Together, you’re undoing buttons, palming the fullness of her breast, and flicking at the hard bud of her nipple.

Eventually, you give Yunjin what she wants.

You’re cradling her thighs around your forearms, and at the angle you have her, suspended, supported by the small of her back, you swear she yelps. You draw her underwear to the side, and then Yunjin’s squealing. She’s whining, she’s so wet, she’s raking her nails at your scalp. Your mouth’s on her cunt, drawing long across her folds, tonguing the alphabet over her clit.

There’s this moment. She’s arching, thighs hooked tight at your arms, on her tiptoes. You poke your tongue into her heat, there’s a high note, and then Yunjin’s cumming in your mouth.

And as you coax her through it, tongue flat, letting her ride your mouth, you’re sharing a gaze. Morbid curiosity can’t stop her from peeking at the mess she’s making, and you want to see what it looks like to kill a goddess.

“Fuck,” Yunjin repeats, like it’s the only word she knows, as you lick your lips. Her head’s tucked into her chest, and the orange bask she’s painted in is competing with the blush sauntering across her cheeks.

“You’re so-” she starts, dodging your eyes, kicking out gingerly at you.

“Mm?” you beckon, easing yourself in between her legs, undoing the button at your pants, freeing your cock tenting at the fabric. “I’m so?” you press again, tugging her panties off, soaked beyond belief.

And how you have her under you, top unbuttoned, hanging off her shoulders, how she can’t meet your eyes, it’s apt. Like she’s disarmed. Like under the layers of polish and practice, purposefully put away; under the glitz, the expensive everything: multisyllabic and most likely mispronounced; under the spunk, in her personal space, when she wasn’t allowed to deflect, Huh Yunjin was naked, and like putty in your hands.

All it took was your mouth on her cunt.

And she sure as shit didn’t need to say anything to you to admit it. It’s hard to miss, the way she’s folding her legs behind your waist, the red across her cheeks deepening.

“Think about your answer,” you quip for good measure, and with your cock hovering inches away from her pussy: “I’m going to fuck you now.”

And truthfully, the confidence is more for you than it is for Yunjin. It’s far from your first time, but every time you slide your cock in Yunjin’s cunt, it’s like everything around you takes a collective deep breath. Time becomes measured in fractions of a second, and you’re clairvoyant and hypersensitive. The head of your cock pushes into her pussy, and it’s hot.

You inhale a breath, picking up the sex in the air.

You swear your vision inverts. There’s white where there used to be color.

You catch the entirety of Yunjin’s mewling, as she goes from fuck, please, and your cock into falsetto. She’s mixing your name with untranslatables.

You feel her fucking cunt.

Teeth gritted, you’re pairing hard and soft. You bury your length in her, the front of your thighs slapping the back of hers, and kiss her lips tender. You only taste Yunjin, and you kiss her like she’s lifeblood. It’s sweet: her lipstick, her taste still on your lips, the breaths you’re sharing. And as Yunjin breaks for air, you’re whispering in the negative space, breath hot.

“Yeah?”

And she’s nodding her head, uncontrollably. Agreeing to anything you put forward, before you even asked. Anything that kept your cock in her.

“You’re-” you try again.

Your hands wrap around her midriff, her hands wrap around your wrists.

“You’re such a-”

God, her fucking cunt.

Except you need to hear it. You want to hear her say it, airtight, with no room for implication to escape.

“Yunjin,” you finally manage, and then in whole: “You’re such a good girl for my cock, aren’t you?”

She’s nodding her head, mumbling. But that wasn’t good enough for you. You’re hilting, deep in her cunt, and steadying yourself, curling a hand around her neck. “Yunjin” — a little louder — “answer me.”

Her hands around your wrists tighten, and she lets out this moan. Like she’s trying to give you the answer you want, and frustrated that she can only whine. Finally, through the untranslatables: yes, yes, all for your cock-

But that wasn’t it. Your fingers are pressing into her throat, and you’re pounding into her, wet all over you; imprinting her into the sofa. “Yunjin,” and it’s dark. “This is all you want, isn’t it?”

And she’s doing everything she can to convince you. She’s pushing herself into your length, grabbing at your hands, and through eyes half-lidded, staring deep at you. To show you she can compete, to show you just how good she was — just for you. And through your grip: “Yes, fuck. God, yes — this is all I-”

But it’s not what you want to hear. You’re riding the line. You’re biting your tongue bloody. Yunjin’s cunt is suffocatingly tight against your cock. Your grip’s white-knuckle on her skin. You shut your eyes tight. You know what you wanted to hear.

“Your other boyfriend can’t give it to you like this, can he?”

And you spend all the luck that was supposed to last you this lifetime, because in a moment of lucidity, you pull out. But immediately after that, you’re left to your own devices, and of course, you cum.

It’s hot, and you feel like a rubber band twanged across the middle. Like everything tight is wrenched out of you, and then let go, left to ricochet on your spine, springing back and forth. Your ears are ringing, your toes are curling; you’re letting out an orgasm so deep, you’re only saved by the fact that your eyes are closed for half of it.

And as you stir, blinking vision back into your eyes, your brain coming back to center, you’re thinking back, and you realize what the fuck you just said.

Yunjin’s meeting you where your eyes are at. Your brain’s numb, her jaw’s frozen in this half-scoff, lips untouching. She raises her eyebrows, giving you somewhere between what the fuck and intrigued. It’s expectant. You opened this up, she’s saying, now what?

You’re standing in the sand, and your house of cards is crumbling. You’re toeing where you expect the line to be, can’t find it, and don’t need to look to know it’s long behind you. Your chest is tight, and the implication is still in the air. You’re scrambling for something: something to walk it back, something in between the lines, anything to drive a stake through the premise and kill it entirely.

Yunjin is less patient. She ventures into the unknown, since you won’t. “Has this been about that the entire time?”

“Yunjin,” and you’re honest, preemptively reaching your hands out to her. “I don’t know why I said that.”

You’re looking straight into her eyes, completely wide. Her eyebrows pinch, and there’s a couple of beats. You know you should take them, to fill in the blanks; not to let the implication linger. But before you do: “I thought about my answer,” Yunjin starts, lowering her fingers to where you left yourself on her stomach.

And only after she runs her forefinger across her tongue, only after she cleans it of cum: “You’re so good, and no one can give it to me like you do.”

Spread across the bite in her lip, eyes half-lidded, and how she’s staring at you through her lashes, the implication’s crystal. And you would probably literally short circuit, if not for the second wind that was Yunjin licking you off of her fingers as she doubled down.

It all crescendos. She’s flipped over, and you’re pounding her into the couch, half to punctuate any sentences that implied she wasn’t completely yours, and the other half because her cunt was still so goddamn tight. The upholstery’s harmonizing, the hardwood exhaling on her offbeat.

You’re gripping Yunjin’s hips, bottoming out in her cunt at an angle, pulling her back into you. And she’s writhing, whining, taking your cock deeper and deeper.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she’s saying, and it irks you a little more than it should.

“Yunjin,” you spit, and you’re pressing your thumbs into her skin. “Shut up and take this dick like a good girl.”

And when you’re both pressing the buttons-

“Who else can fuck you like this, Yunjin?”

no one no sorry so sorry all yours this pussy yours you fuck me so- so hot when you’re jealous

“Yeah? You want me to? You’re such a good girl for me, baby,”

yes so good only for you so messy all over your cock fuck cum in me cum in me please i’ve been such a good girl please

- the gray area might as well be a chasm.

Because after you cum inside her, Yunjin drooling over your sofa, breath shuddering, leaking all over your cock, you have a mountain to climb. Physically — how you’re crumpled over her, exhausted, entangled — emotionally — how you’ll both put a cap on this in its entirety — and all of the rest of the above.

You’ll wait for her to bring it up.

Yunjin’s wrapped in your dress shirt, two sizes too big, and her head’s on your chest. Nothing short of Herculean, you’re in bed, and under polyester.

“He has a girlfriend, you know,” she says.

“Huh?” you manage intelligibly.

“My scandal.” Yunjin motions under the sheets, like the word needed air quotes. “Cute little thing. Works at an animal hospital. Always the loudest voice in the fanchants.”

You’re stunned, and don’t know what the right line of conversation is. “How are they taking it?”

“Probably makes their sex hotter, too.”

Dating made everything so much messier than it needed to be.

Two weeks after their comeback, the scandal breaks.

The official post is tame, but knowing netizens — a look at the comments confirming your suspicions — they’re feral. It’s a collage of three photos that look like they were taken from fifty feet away, but unmistakably of Yunjin an arm’s length away from another figure. They’re on a blanket overlooking the Hangang; she’s cuddled up in one of your hoodies, two sizes too big; and in the third photo, enlarged in post for emphasis, Yunjin’s nestled in his arm, selling the relationship pretty goddamn well.

You open an alt account and leave a hate comment.

LET’S BE HONEST HE DON’T DESERVE HER 💀💀💀😭😭😭

---

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #idol x male reader #idol x reader #lesserafim smut #yunjin smut

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cyborg-franky · 3 months ago

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Something for @corpusprion for guessing the movie the other night! Pleas enjoy <3

GN Reader X Marco SFW Ace Lives Au Word count: 682

The events of Marineford had been intense. Bodies and hearts ached. Pain drenched every inch of your wary body and a relief tinged with sadness filled you. You sighed and looked at Marco who sat on your shared bed looking exhausted. You’d never seen him look so tired, never seen the tell tail signs of his age. He looked every bit the image of a forty-something man who’d spent his entire life working hard, working his fingers to the bone. His phoenix power all but drained from healing others, it could barely spare a spark of flame to heal the cut on his forehead.

He let out a shaky sigh, wincing as he felt the simple act rattle his bones. “Not used to being so beat up huh?” You called, a medpack in your arms as you kicked the door to the room closed. You saw the lazy smirk on his face as he chuckled. “Do I detect a hint of gloating yoi?” he asked and you shrugged as you set the kit down on the bedside table.

“Maybe,”

The fight had been intense, everyone had battled their hardest, and shed more than their fair share of sweat, blood and tears to save Ace and Pops, a feat they almost had failed to achieve. There had still been casualties, injuries that would show for years both in scars and in memories. You tried not to think about those you’d lost. Trying to remind yourself Ace was safe.

You masked the worry about your partner with jokes and a plastered-on smile, during the war you knew he was going to be fine, he was so strong and confident. Too smart to let anyone get the upper hand on him, though the seastone handcuffs had your pulse in your throat for a moment.

No, you were more concerned about the bruised and bloody man sitting on your bed now. His cuts refused to close as he was out of energy. Spent on others, that was just typical of him. Putting his crew before himself.

It was your turn to help him.

You sat next to him on the bed and gently cupped his face, looking at those tired half-lidded eyes and seeing the wrinkles where he frowned, where he smiled, where he laughed with all his heart. He was still the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You could see whisps of greying hair in his eyebrows and the scruff at his chin. “Feeling rough?” you asked as he held your hand to his face, turning enough to kiss your fingers. “Mmm,”

Marco hated the the flashes of mortality that ebbed through him when he was this depleted of his phoenix given vitality. He just leaned into your touches, desperate for your comforting warmth and words as he tried not to feel sorry for himself, to let you know how he was aching and hurting. You leaned forward and kissed his nose, just above where a cut crossed the bridge.

“I got you, don’t worry.”

In a comfortable silence you washed his skin, taking away the crusted blood and the dirt of the battlefield. He only grimaced once or twice at the disinfectant you used on his scrapes and cuts before you dressed them with bandages and bandaids.

You sat back and looked at Marco. You’d never seen him so banged up and in such a state. You smiled weakly, feeling as sorry for him as he looked for himself. “Want me to get us something to eat?” you asked, but he shook his head, brushing off any wrappers and leftover bandages from the bed, strong arms pulling you against him before he flopped back on the bed. You blinked, a little confused, but soon heard him take in your scent. You felt his nose nuzzle into your neck as he kept you close.

He just needed this.

And that was fine by you.

You held one another until sleep came for your tired and worn bodies. The comfort and safety of one another's arms whisking you both into a much-needed and well-deserved slumber.

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year ago

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Nothing Better than What We’ve Got

Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: You once said you wouldn’t marry anyone unless you were with them for at least a year, but maybe with Jake, your mind has changed.

Warnings: Allusion to smut(ish). That’s probably it. A MASSIVE BALL OF FLUFF!!!

Notes: Part of the Oh, Baby Universe.

Words: 2600

---

He slept well these days. As deeply and thoroughly as the little girl nestled in her crib down the hall. All traces of nightmares were long gone and he woke perfectly rested with a smile across his face before he dropped a kiss to your forehead, then your lips. Every morning the same confirmation of his happiness.

You were thankful for that; that he had fought his way through the pain you had caused, the added stress of dealing with your mother, and the unease and fear of facing his own parents to get to a place of peace. But that was Jake. Put a wall in front of him and he would fight his way over it. That is, with the exception of the time when you were gone. I wasn't getting over you, he'd said. There's no way. In that area, you had stunted him.

Pinpricks of guilt lingered, occasionally making themselves a tad sharper; impossible to ignore. But despite what you had done, Jake remained a fighter, tackling all battles that quite literally kicked down his front door. Just as he was a protector; fierce and unrelenting when it came to keeping you and your shared daughter safe. And yet, those prominent qualities made him no less of a lover. Your lover, your man—the only one you ever cared to have.

You loved him so terribly much. He made up a piece of your world that if taken away from you would leave an unfillable void. Jake Seresin was it. He was everything. Of that, you'd been so sure of for so long, and you were tired of not letting him know it in every way possible.

"Jake," you whispered.

His eyes were closed, mouth ever so slightly parted so his gentle breaths could warm your face. You really hated to wake him, but not so much that you paused to consider stopping your light shaking of his shoulder.

"Jake!"

He began to stir, brows furrowing, consciousness tugging at him. "Mmm, Honey," he muttered. Lazily shifting onto his side, his hand found your bare hip, a weight holding you down.

"Baby, wake up. I need you."

He mumbled your name, but when your words sunk in, his torso shot up in bed. Eyes wide. Chest heaving. "What? What's wrong?" he rushed out as his head turned in all directions to scan the room. "Are you ok? Where's Eve?"

"No, baby," you soothed. "We're fine." With your hand pressed into his chest—feeling the intensity of his rapid, thudding heartbeat—you helped settle him back onto the mattress. Head again cushioned by a pillow, Jake blew out a breath and gave you a look that barely concealed the merest bit of irritation for nearly causing his heart attack.

His hand layered yours for a moment before he grasped it tightly and brought your palm to his lips for a kiss. He kissed it once more, the second time longer.

"You can't do that to me, Honey. You know how I am." A mild scolding; maybe a fair one. You did know how he was. His sleep might have improved exponentially, but he was still a military man, still a man who had suffered enough and worried enough and feared enough for the sake of his family that he could be pulled from that deep sleep for next to nothing. Just a whiff of danger or threat was all it took, and your words were not so carefully chosen as to protect him from questioning your safety in the dead of night.

"Sorry."

"It's ok," he smiled, flipping back onto his side. He kissed your forehead, pulled your body into the cocoon of his frame, and closed his eyes again. You cupped his cheek and ran your thumb over the scruff of dark blond whiskers.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said, but his voice was already fading as exhaustion draped over him.

"Nothing."

"No?" You could hardly make out the weak syllable.

"Wrong? No," you confirmed. Those lips were parting once more. Light puffs traveled in and out of his lungs. You considered letting him be, but then you said, "I want to marry you."

You'd stared into his eyes countless times, but this was different. When eyelids shot open to reveal green orbs, they held an array of emotions, each one of them struggling to claim the forefront. His eyes flicked back and forth between yours in search of the meaning within your gaze, but he wouldn't be searching long. You knew your emotion was solidly present. The love you felt for him splayed across the surface of you, an abundance pouring out through your eyes and smile and touch.

"You—" His inhale was sharp; exhale heavy. He blinked and shook his head like he was trying to understand if he heard you right. "You what?"

Your thumb reached lower to graze over his bottom lip. "I want to be married to you."

"I thought…" From his continuous disbelief you chuckled. "You said not for a year."

"Jake, we have a child together. And I love you so much," you said softly. His hand on your waist squeezed your flesh. "I don't want to wait anymore to be your wife."

He stopped blinking altogether, but then a smile cracked his face and he threw the comforter off his bare body to hop out of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

He crossed the room in record time and, opening one of the dresser drawers, began to rifle through his neatly folded underwear. When he pulled his hand back, a little black box was clutched in his shaky fingers.

Any amusement on your face dissipated and you sat up quickly, the sheets falling away to expose your chest, but you didn't care. He took his spot across from you and recovered his lower half. Both sets of eyes were glued to the box as he placed it atop the bed between you.

You almost didn’t want to touch it. Well, truly, you knew it wasn’t yours to touch quite yet. But still, it felt like that box had some sort of magic inside it—the culmination of all you’d been through with the man you loved somehow stuffed into one tiny hollow cube—and that opening it would overwhelmingly drench you in every feeling you’d ever had for Jake, every emotion that ever passed through you. And that was so, so, much.

You never needed a ring to prove anything to one another. It wasn’t the physical symbol of love that would forever hold you and Jake together. If anything, you had Eve for that. Nevertheless, you wanted it. You wanted to be his wife. You wanted him as your husband.

"You had this already?" You asked, vision beginning to haze from a damp coating.

Jake swallowed, finally looking up at you. You met the sweetness in his eyes. "I'd been thinking about all of it for a while. I got the ring made a couple months ago."

"How long is a while?"

Some of that sweetness fell away to nerves. His smile faltered so he could clear his throat. "You don't want to know."

You nodded encouragingly, weaving your fingers with his.

For a minute, you weren’t sure he was going to answer you, but then he sighed. "Honey," he said. He paused again, his mouth opening and closing. He shook his head to himself and looked back at you. "I used to imagine you being my wife well before you ever kissed me."

Your eyes went wide as saucers.

That day was permanently vivid in your mind. The day you took that leap. The day you finally grasped that Jake—the potential of finally being with him after a year of back and forth—was worth the risk of any humiliation had you misunderstood what he felt for you. That one day changed your entire world. You’d kissed him, you’d slept with him, you’d conceived your daughter without knowing it. It felt so long ago and yet if you closed your eyes and reached out your hand, you were sure your fingertips would brush along the memory.

"A while,” you whispered.

He nodded. "A while."

Each breath was loud in your ears, each heartbeat adding to the echo-like rhythm.

“So, Honey…” Jake took the box in one hand, and with the other, pulled back the hinged lid. The diamond sparkled despite the lack of light in the room. “Will you–"

"You don't have to ask," you said as you scrambled into his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs. His arm held you tightly to help steady the sudden collision of your bodies as your hands framed his face. Leaning down, you kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him—every inch of his face you could claim. "You already know the answer."

Feathery touch traveled up and down your spine, then he pressed his lips to yours; softer; delicate and thorough compared to the frenzy of yours. "Let me hear it,” he pleaded. “I want to hear it so bad.”

The corners of your lips quirked up just slightly at the desperation in his voice. You could see how much it meant to him, so you didn’t make him wait.

"Yes, Jake,” you said, nudging your nose against his, “I will marry you."

He let out a deep groan and his hand dropped the box so it could weave into your hair as mouths melded again. Your lips tingled in the aftermath of your words, the sensation making its way throughout your entire system the longer you stayed intertwined with the man you were going to call your husband.

You were so close to losing yourself, as you always did when you were with him. But then it hit you.

You released a muffled squeak and pushed against his chest. "Wait, wait, wait," you stopped him.

"What?” His voice was husky. His eyelids heavy over the love and lust swirling in emerald irises, and he licked his lips, the hand at the base of your neck already starting to draw you back into his kiss.

"You forgot to put it on me,” you said quickly.

"Oh!" A genuine expression of surprise took over his face. He looked around the mattress until he found the box with its ring still snuggled inside. Plucking out the silver band, he said, "Sorry, Honey. Got distracted.”

You giggled at his renewed eagerness.

Few things in your life had been more beautiful than Jake sliding that ring on your finger. When the nurse placed a swaddled Eve against your breast so you could get your first good look at your daughter’s perfect little face. When you saw Jake after nearly a year of being apart and realized that not only did you want to be with him, you belonged with him. And when you tucked your daughter into his awaiting arms and heard his declaration of love for her only minutes after his learning of the circumstances of her existence.

Those moments gave you life. Hidden away, but always accessible. Never did you spend a day in darkness with the light of them behind you. They helped you to remember that nothing mattered but Jake and your baby. His father, your mother, the difficulties of past choices, and anything the future may throw at you were weak under the weight of each beautiful building block that made up the life you and Jake shared.

And now you had another moment. Another memory. Another block to squash your troubles.

“I love you,” he said, letting his lips brush over the diamond. “Don’t ever take this off.”

“I’ll never want to,” you replied.

—-

He’d worn you out.

It wasn’t exactly intentional, but he couldn’t stop wanting you. He couldn’t tamp down how badly he needed to be inside of you again and again. And he thought he would pass out alongside you, he really did, but there was no resting his eyes after all of that. You were going to be his wife.

His Wife.

A part of him was too stunned to believe it, but every time he glanced down at your hand, the ring was still there and his heart burst in his chest all over again. So, no, he didn’t rest. There were too many emotions bouncing around within the confines of his body.

Instead, he watched you sleep, occasionally tucking back strands of your hair when your shifting caused them to fall into your face so he could press his lips to your skin. Every few minutes he found somewhere else to kiss. Your fingers, shoulder, cheek, temple, neck. As long as he didn’t wake you, his careful kisses continued to find new places until the first rays of sunlight broke through the curtains.

Jake sighed. He didn’t wish to leave you, but Eve’s cries would begin soon. Slept peacefully, she did, but like clockwork, his baby girl woke so early it was as if the dawn itself whispered in her ear each morning.

With a final kiss, Jake stood from the bed and grabbed his sweatpants off the floor so he could pull them up his legs. He made his way down the hall into the nursery and took the stirring girl in his arms before she had a chance to question his absence.

Jake had learned his daughter’s needs rather soon into their budding relationship; something he took great pride in. And he knew she favored touch. Had to be greeted with cuddles and kisses before anything else could be considered important. Their routine was not one she cared to have interrupted, so, as always, Jake quickly changed Eve’s diaper before taking a seat in the rocking chair his Gram had gifted, keeping her snug against his chest while they swayed with the back-and-forth motion.

His eyes welcomed hers.

“Well, good morning, baby girl,” he said.

She granted him the most delicate of smiles. As incredible and heart-stopping as yours.

Jake knew she’d destroy someone when the day came—would absolutely wreck them from the inside out because of that smile, exactly how you had done to him. He just hoped that if he had to watch his daughter with anyone, despite the anxiety that zig-zagged up and down his spine at the thought, that person would be worth Eve putting her love and time into. And if they were worth it, he’d wish them luck. Because as much as Eve’s face matched his, her personality was clearly going to develop into a carbon copy of yours. In his daughter was your wit and love, but he didn’t kid himself into thinking she didn’t also have your stubbornness and grit. But thankfully, it would be a while before he’d be forced to worry over anything like that. For now, other matters were to be shared.

“I’ve got news for you,” he continued, extending his hand so Eve could wrap her five little fingers around his larger one. “Mama and Daddy are getting married.”

She blinked, then giggled.

“I know. I’m sure it seems awfully fast to you,” he said with a chuckle of his own, “but I’ve loved your Mama longer than you know. Longer than she knew, too.

“And she’s going to be so beautiful in her dress, and you’re going to be so beautiful in whatever doesn’t make you grumpy that day. You can be our flower girl and we’ll have Uncle Rooster carry you and help you toss petals down the aisle, doesn’t that sound good?”

At her look of awe, Jake gave a peck to her forehead.

“I’d say things will be perfect, baby girl,” he grinned, running his thumb over the back of her hand, “But they already are.”

---

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ram-bam-writes · 7 months ago

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RHO (Ridin’ Him Out) Pt. 2 [Hangman x NB Reader]

A/N: No apologies. Some plot. Mostly horny thoughts :>

Word Count: 2233

CW: Smut (explicit), fingering, semi-public fucking, truck kink, piv (wrap before tap), slight degradation, no beta we die like goose, etc

“Hey Hangman!”

You peek up from your kindle to see Bradley grinning up at your boyfriend, two rusted axes he’d taken from Mav a while back in his hands. Your boyfriend, without even hesitating, stands up and strips off his flannel, stomping confidently over to his opposing pilot. Wild smirk and all, he takes one of them and spins it far too dangerously in his hands.

Everyone had just gotten finished setting up the camping lot. Bob and Nat had set up a small patio-like area right outside of their trailer with large tables, since they’d focus on being the dining area for the trip. Meanwhile, Bradley and his partner used their trailer area for the outdoor games and campfire as the lounge area. Rueben and Mickey set up their tent a few yards away from you and Jake’s truck, which, in your opinion, was far too grand for a simple camping trip. To each their own. Javy brought a more modest tent, something simple to share with his partner and their pup.

You and Jake had settled for a simple truck bed tent. It was easy, and you liked the coziness of it. After all, you had two other trailers to hang out in during the day if you needed, so you both only needed the tent for sleep. It came with a zippered entrance and a zippered top. The top would unzip to a mesh window, something Jake had gushed about the moment he saw it. He loved sleeping under the stars, and so did you.

Now, you and the rest of the group sit underneath the patio of Nat and Bob’s trailer. The sun is still pretty high despite it being 20:00, but it seems Bradley wants to show off to his sweetheart, and there’s no doubt Jake wishes to do the same to you. Had Javy not just gotten back from medical leave due to a dislocated shoulder, he probably would have joined.

If only Jake knew what it would lead to…

You’re practically drooling as Jake’s sweat runs down his toned body. His hair is disheveled as he runs his fingers through the dirty blond locks, a lazy grin on his flushed face. He swings the axe again, breaking apart the pre-chopped logs Javy had agreed to bring.

“Likin’ the view, sweetheart?” Your boyfriend asks in that all too familiar teasing tone.

You could only whistle, throat too dry to produce an audible sound. The way his fingers curled around the axe, and — gods — the way he grit his teeth as he swung it once again… It made you squirm in your seat, eyes already glossing over as you licked your lips.

For the next 30 minutes you were greeted with the hot sight of your boyfriend’s muscles straining and tensing as he and Bradley battled it out. Eventually there was no wood left, and the two agreed a reluctant tie for the competition of who could go longest.

“Alright, alright… a tie.” Bradley offered his hand with a lazy grin, Jake shaking it with a more arrogant one.

“For now…”

Jake plopped back on the camping chair next to yours, his hand immediately coming down to clasp around your thigh. The action made you jump, eyes widening as a quiet gasp fell from your lips. Your boyfriend raised a brow at you. His brows twitch as he process your reaction, and in half a second, his lips brush against your ear.

“Don’t tell me you’re fucked-up already, darlin’…” His voice is practically a damn purr.

You push him away, desperate to keep your sanity for the time being, especially when Bob’s eyes flick to Nat’s for help as she snickers quietly. Nat had always been the one to catch onto these sorts of things, and she could do it for Bradley and his partner, too.

——

“That wasn’t fair, y’know…” You pouted, climbing up into the tent that rests atop the muddy Ram truck.

“Mmm… I never said I’d go easy on you. C’mon, darlin’, you can last a few more days, can’t you?”

You could only huff in response, quickly changing into something more comfortable before settling down. You watch as your boyfriend’s eyes glitter when he sees you, a challenging look in them. You know that look all too well…

You opt to fling his sleep shirt at him, muttering an on-brand, “Fuck you,” all the while.

He zips the tent up behind himself, making a loud thud as he drops to his elbows next to you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was exhausted. Alas, you did know him better, and can only mentally die when you hear those heavy breaths fall from his mouth.

You tried your hardest not to think about the rough surface beneath the blanket you lay on. If you thought any harder about it, you might actually combust. His truck, his brand-new, stupid fucking truck. The one that’s as beefy as any military-grade vehicle and as loud as any military jet. The one he treats just as roughly as he treats you in bed, leaving an equal amount of mess on both.

He had no right to get that truck. No right at all. But you couldn’t argue with him when he pulled into the driveway of your apartment, a lazy, confident smirk filling out his features. He pulled the classic move of leaning against the truck’s door, arms crossed to give his biceps a chance to flex right in your face. If that wasn’t enough, he hadn’t changed out of his Navy Khaki’s, toothpick between his lips and aviators on his face.

He knew what he was doing.

Every ride since then had been the same. His hands squeezing your thigh, fleeting glances here and there, all too teasing comments out of the blue. That man was conditioning you — and fuck if it wasn’t working. Before you knew it, your thighs would clench the moment you got into his truck, mouth salivating simply at the sight of the bed. Your mind wouldn’t give you rest, not when he revved the engine and let you feel the bass against your seat. Not when he’d play the heaviest, dirtiest songs and drive down an old dirt road, watching your eyes glaze over and your mouth part in the prettiest of sounds.

Fuck it.

Your hands slam against the bed of his truck, and you used the force to push you up and over until your thighs are firmly planted on either sides of his hips. He made this problem, and he’d sure as hell fix it.

“There’s my pretty thing…” He purrs, hands firm on your hips as he bucks up into you.

You mewl a pretty, breathy sound, eyes fluttering as you flop against his chest. The little energy you had to climb him has been spent, leaving your hands to rest against his chest and claw at his faded Navy shirt. Your mouth presses firmly against his neck, and his hand grips your scalp and pushes you further. The man always has a thing for marks, especially on his own body.

“C’mon, hun… show ‘em fuckers what you can do…” His hips grind against yours, other hand snaking around your waist to ease you into a steady rhythm.

He yanks your head back, releasing your scalp to press two fingers in between your lips. You eagerly suck the digits, far too used to the motion to think. All that runs through your mind is the haze of pleasure and the scent of sex already thick in the tent. Your tongue laps eagerly at those thick fingers, eyes rolling at the salty taste that coats them.

The hand around your waist strips you of your pajama bottoms, easily slipping off your underwear and holding you against himself. His hands swap places, tugging them away from from your mouth to see the spit drip down your lips.

“So messy…”

His dry fingers focus on that pleasure spot between your thighs, long strokes up and down just to tease. Edging that pleasure, keeping you high on your toes and drunk off your mind. And when his mouth wraps around your soft, perky nipples, the howl you let out might truly be mistaken for a jackal by the team.

It takes a moment for your clouded, pleasure-filled mind to recognize the movements of his tongue. But when you feel the pattern of letters, you nearly cum right then and there. The pilot makes a mess of your chest, never relenting his sucks and licks and certainly never easing up on his strokes.

He releases your nipple with a sweet pop, eyes glittering dangerously. “Gotta be quiet, hun… don’t want the team peeking in, do ya?”

Fuck if that didn’t make you twitch.

“Perv…” He hisses, nipping your neck and forcing your head close to his chest with his dry hand, ignoring your hips for now. “My pretty, filthy little perv…”

You don’t get a chance to react. Before you know it, your face meets the cold bed of his truck. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d moved the blanket, but fuck if it wasn’t sexy as all hell to be forced against it. The cool metal shines from your spit.

“I know all about your little kink, darlin’…” Jakes fingers prod at your tight hole, slipping one finger in before curling it. “Can’t wait to finish this fucking trip… can’t wait to figure out how many damn ways I can fuck you in, on, and against this goddamn RHO…”

Tears pool on your lashes at his words, oh so humiliating yet oh so hot. He knocks the wind out of you not a second later, three fingers working to open you up, dragging against that pad of nerves deep within you. You fight against his hand to throw your head back and cry from the pleasure, but you’re left with your cheek firm against the truck bed, drool and tears pooling.

He feels the warmth of your insides clamping down on his fingers, that telltale warning you always give when you’re close. But you don’t get release just yet. No, he has other plans for you. You don’t fight when he hauls you up and onto your back. He’s rock hard because of you, dragging his wet tip against you before pressing an inch inside of you.

He always goes slow with you when he starts. The last thing he wants is to genuinely injure you. But once he’s in, once he recognizes that movement of your shoulders falling lax and walls easing up…

He goes fucking feral.

One arm holds Jake upright, his chest firm against yours to keep you pinned. The other if keeping your head pressed against his neck, lips stretching into a smile as he feels your familiar bites. You bite him, and you bite him hard. If he doesn’t bleed, he’ll sure as hell bruise. The thought makes his cock twitch, dragging the thickness in and out of you, veins pulsing against your walls.

Your head spins, eyes rolled back as you babble incoherently. Nothing else mattered but the feel of his cock inside of you, that familiar warmth sending your mind into a frenzy. You pant and cry like a hound, the sweet sounds muffled by his sweat-slick skin.

“That’s it baby… that’s it, c’mon… c’mon darlin’…” He licks and nips your earlobe, pants and moans falling from his own lips.

And you’re so close. So, so fucking close. All you want is to have him cum deep inside of you — to fill you up and mark you as his. To feel the thick wetness spill out from your roughed-up hole, to feel his tongue clean you up.

But he doesn’t give that to you. Not quite.

“Cum for me, hun… cum all over my fucking truck…”

He works you until you cum, wetness pooling beneath you on the black metal of his truck. And instead of summing inside of you like you so often to and he so often complies, he pulls out and lets his white-hot ropes spill out freely. Some of the sticky mess coats your thighs and abused hole, but most land on the metal beneath you.

You gasp, eyes glazed over as your head spins. Not only has your orgasm been ripped out of you like a goddamn pull-tab, but you’re flipped onto your belly before you get a chance to recover. You glance up to see him smirking down at you, a newer, more dangerous look in his eyes. His grip tightens in your scalp, the muscles in his arms flexing as he does so.

“Clean up your mess, you nasty little perv…” He purrs, pushing you down roughly until your lips hover over the mix of cum that coats his truck. “Clean your mess like a good little fuck…”

——

Bonus:

Nat is the first to speak the following morning when Jake slips out of the tent, you still sound asleep. Her eyes focus on glaring at your boyfriend. “Y’know… the RHO is soundproof. Just for reference.”

Rueben exhales deeply, rubbing the sleep from his face as he sits next to an equally exhausted Javy.

“Please use that tip. Mick’ is the only one with noise-cancelling headphones…”

The shit-eating grin your boyfriend has for the rest of the trip is unlike any of his smirks you’ve seen before.

#hangman x reader #top gun hangman #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #hangman smut #top gun fanfic #top gun smut #jake hangman seresin #top gun x reader

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fishsticksloser · 1 year ago

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If RoTTMNT requests are open, can I request a fluff Future Leo x Male Reader? Getting one for my bestie teehee, he is a simp :³

Fine Wine

F!Leo x male!reader

Warnings: playful banter, kissing, flirting, swearing, a tiny bit suggestive...

A/N: I had... Maybe a bit too much fun with this. To be fair, you left it open so don't judge me! 🫵 I hope your friend enjoys this. I don't blame him for being a simp... Have you seen my posts (or even my reblog account?)

You walk into Leo's room, he's sitting on his bed. His back against the wall, a book in his hand. "What're you doing?" Leo asks, setting his book on the table nearby.

"Ah. Just checking the fermentation that's going on in here." You tease, leaning against the doorframe. You smile brightly at Leo as he seems to get more comfortable. "You aging more like a fine wine or sauerkraut?"

Leo raised an eyebrow at your comment, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh, I see how it is. Comparing me to sauerkraut now, huh? Well, I'll have you know, I age like a fine wine, sweetheart. Full-bodied and just a little rough around the edges." He chuckled, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. "But hey, if you're into that tangy, fermented goodness, who am I to judge?"

You step into his room, standing next to his side of the bed. "Mmm..." You hum softly, gently cupping his cheek. "I'd say a very fine wine." Leo's eyes widened slightly at your touch, his smirk fading into a more genuine smile. He leaned into your hand, enjoying the warmth of your touch.

"Well, well, aren't you full of compliments tonight," he responded, his voice softer now. "Guess I must be doing something right if I've earned your praise." He paused for a moment, his gaze meeting yours. "You know, I could use a taste tester. Care to join me in sampling this 'fine wine'?" he asked, his tone suggestive.

"How could I possibly say no?" You laugh softly, feeling Leo pull you closer. "Think I'm drunk already..." You whisper as your faces get closer. Leo's expression turned more serious as he pulled you closer, his gaze locked with yours.

His voice dropped to a low, husky tone. "Drunk on what, sweetheart? The taste of adventure? The thrill of danger? Or maybe... just maybe... the intoxicating presence of a certain red eared slider?" His lips brushed against yours in a teasing manner, his tone laced with a hint of mischief. "Either way, I'm more than happy to be your drink of choice tonight."

"Oh? Are you dangerous?" You ask, smiling as your lips brush his. Your other hand cups his other cheek, noses bumping. Leo's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and desire as he felt your hand cup his other cheek. His lips curled into a mischievous grin.

"Dangerous? Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "I've battled countless enemies, faced down the Kraang, and survived against all odds. But the most dangerous thing about me?" His voice lowered to a seductive murmur. "It's the way I make your heart race, the way I make you crave more." His lips claimed yours in a deep, passionate kiss, his arm wrapping around your waist.

You kiss him back slowly, cupping the base of his skull. Your lips meld and mold against his. Leo's chest rose and fell with a mixture of desire and frustration as he pulled away from the kiss, his eyes locked with yours. "Damn... You'd make a pretty fine wine..." You mumble breathlessly.

He chuckled softly, his voice husky. "Well, sweetheart, I could say the same about you. Fine wine or not, you've got me craving another taste." He leaned in once more, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing manner before he pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But let's take it slow, shall we? We've got all night to savor the flavor."

Leo's lips lingered against yours, a hunger evident in his eyes. He chuckled softly, it's low and gravelly. His missing arm reaching out to you, but he leaned in once more, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss. Leo's arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you onto his lap as your lips melded together. He lost himself in the taste and feel of you, his body responding instinctively to the closeness. His tongue teased against yours, exploring and savoring the taste of you, his body pressing against yours with a raw, desperate desire. His hand slid up your back, his touch firm yet gentle as he deepened the kiss, your tongues dancing in a passionate rhythm. In this moment, there was no past, no regrets, only the intoxicating connection between two souls. The world outside ceased to exist as he focused solely on savoring every touch, every breath, and every moment of blissful escape.

You slowly move your kisses to his jaw and neck, wanting him to feel loved and wanted. You gently bite his neck, humming softly. Leo's breath hitched as your lips and teeth grazed his jaw and neck, a shiver coursing through his body. "Good year..." You tease lightly, still keeping up the playful banter.

He chuckled softly, his voice laced with desire. "Oh, a connoisseur of fine wines, are we? Well, I must say, this year is particularly exceptional." He tilted his head back slightly, giving you better access to his neck, a low growl escaping his throat as you gently bit down. "But I must warn you, sweetheart, once you've tasted the best, there's no going back." His tone was filled with both amusement and longing, his body responding eagerly to your touch.

"Don't I know it... But I wouldn't have it any other way..." You whisper, biting his bottom lip and tugging it slightly. "Can't get enough..." Leo's eyes darkened with desire as he felt your teeth graze his bottom lip. He let out a low growl of pleasure, his body responding to your touch.

"You know, I've always been one to indulge in the things I can't get enough of. Believe me, sweetheart, the feeling is mutual," he murmured, his voice husky. "It seems I've found something truly irresistible." His hand trailed up your back, fingers grazing along your spine, as he deepened the kiss once more. The taste of you, the feel of your body pressed against his, ignited a fire within him. He couldn't get enough of you, craving the intoxicating passion that flowed between you.

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ashprince-of-bel-air · 4 months ago

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Reading by firelight.

AN: a short Gale oneshot, I typed this on mobile so please forgive any errors or formatting.

Summary: Gale watches Tav read by the fire.

The sun was setting softly over the camp, casting a warm orange glow over the horizon. This had always been Gales favourite time of the day. The cool afternoon breeze sweeping through the camp as he again started to prepare supper over the campfire. It wasn't the silence that he enjoyed, as the rest of his campmates retired to their tents for a while, to rest their battle weary bodies, it was the fact he could watch Tav. Their afternoon ritual of sitting by the campfire after battle, engrossed in a large tome left him utterly speechless. The way the light from the fire flickered against their soft skin, still a little grimy from the days adventure, causing shadows to dance over their visage was like a drug to him; more often than not he had to remind himself to focus on making sure the stew in the pot didn't over boil or burn. He never had a problem serving perfect meals when he first joined the delightfully weird selection of comrades he now had, but now the amount of spoiled food was becoming suspicious to the group as they all tried to create conspiracies surrounding this new phenomenon. The current favourite conspiracy coming from Astarion claiming "Maybe Gale is going senile in his old age, either that or the tadpole has helped itself to a few two many braincells". Wyll was ever the gentleman and always suggested that the days adventuring were getting harder, that it wasn't fair to put such undue pressure on him. Lae'zel would just tut at the rest of the camp and eat whatever was given to her, warriors were not afforded the constant luxury of exquisite food.

Gale would look longingly at Tav as they read, they were completely absorbed with their book every night so he wasn't scared of being caught, he'd imagine their long slender fingers stroking against his skin softly as he watched Tav gently stroke the pages of the book many a night, yearning to feel their delicate touch along his body and tangled in his hair, wanting to know what it would feel like for Tav to massage away his aches at the end of a long day or even relieve his frustrations.

Every night he would tell himself mentally "Come on Gale, go talk to them, you don't shut up any other time." He would try to gear himself up, he'd even thought of a good pick up line to use, yet in every scenario he thought up, it just didn't come out right, mentally cursing Astarion and his charm for raising the bar impossibly high; jealous of the way the pale elf could seemingly flirt and seduce with ease.

"Hey Tav, I'm an open book too... and you can read me any time you like." Gale shuddered at the thought of him actually trying to say that, in each made up scenario he always came across as awkward and stuttering, then Tav would look at him like he was a creep. Tonight, he told himself that he actually would talk to them, it didn't matter what it was about, hells he would talk about crop rotation or the rising 'wizarding insurance' prices in Waterdeep, he just needed to talk to them. He could talk to them out in the road but could never bring himself to speak when it was just him and Tav alone. For a man who had a propensity towards verbosity, he was always rendered speechless when alone with them.

Gale checked the cooking stew, making sure it was simmering and wouldn't over boil again, for what would be the 5th time in a fortnight. He ran his now clammy hands through his hair in the hopes to make himself more presentable, although, considering he hadn't had chance to change from his grubby blood stained robe, he didn't think Tav would be offended if his hair was a little messy. His mouth began to open and form words as he stepped towards you until Astarion burst out of his tent and called out.

"Mmm Darling." His voice as it's usual delicate purr. "Something smells delicious." Astarion takes a seat by Tav, their shoulders and knees touching in an overly friendly manner, his eyes flitting between their face and their neck."and I definitely don't mean the food." Astarions voice dropped into a lower more lustful purr as he admired Tav's long and slender neck.

Gale was stopped dead in his tracks by the interaction and stepped back towards the pot of stew, his head slumped down in disappointment, watching through a contemptuous gaze as Tav closed their book and began chatting energetically with Astarion. "It's always that damned vampire" Gale cursed to himself, wondering jokingly if he could find a pointy stick in the woods to acquainte Astarion with. He shook his head to clear away those thoughts, tonight was not his time, but maybe tomorrow it could be. "No, it would be." He told himself sternly. He promised himself that he would speak to Tav tomorrow. But for now, he would have the memory of their soft and slender hands to take back to his tent with him, it was always a welcome thought on these lonely nights, forever wishing he had more than his imagination.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x tav #baldurs gate 3 gale #i want to make it very clear #the book tav is reading every night is the filthiest smut you can imagine.

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bonefall · 1 year ago

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mmm would it be possible for Mistystar and Leopardstar to fight/met during the BOTTE? or was Leopard already fed up with Tigerstar, his batshit insane plans and her status reduced to 'Tiger's another lackey' (like Darkstripe and many others) to really care about revenge? if she ever thought about it, that is.. im assuming she would be pretty pissed about being killed (there was a post about Mistyfoot first trying to poison her and Leopard realized it and instead decided to take her on a solo patrol to.. deal with a rogue i think? and then Misty gave her a rock appointment) and might had thought about making Mistystar pay, but it's been soooo long before BOTTE that she might had.. moved on? or just decided she had better things to do, not sure.

I have a BIG rule for the BOTTE, an unmoveable object, which I will abide by like a solemn vow;

NO spirit will be killed by the same cat twice.

I already changed it so Yellowfang doesn't get Brokenstar (he's not even present) and Brambleclaw doesn't get Hawkfrost, so I certainly wouldn't have Mistystar do it to Leopardstar!

I have some ideas but first; context.

The Killing of Leopardstar

Mistyfoot was sloppy.

Leopardstar recognized the way that Mistyfoot had poisoned her food, because she'd done the same thing to Crookedstar before her. Not enough to make it quick, just enough to weaken.

The emotion that licks at her is frustration.

Is this what her life has come to? Dramatic irony? Is this some kind of cosmic joke? To die just like her predecessor, wasting away for a few seasons in the darkness of this musty den, before solemn mourning and empty platitudes from her underhanded murderer.

What should she even do about this? Reveal Mistyfoot in front of everyone, exile her, she plots against her from the safety of another Clan, some kind of rebellion, rah rah rah we just dealt with this.

It's boring. It's so boring it's offensive. This will be the state of RiverClan forever, deputies poisoning leaders and taking power quietly until the end of days. No honor, no nobility, just treachery until the sky dries up and its rich blue becomes a crackled pale-brown.

If she is to die, she will not go out in the slow and painful way she killed crookedstar without a fight.

So she smacks the limp fish aside and brushes past Mistyfoot with a snarl, not even caring enough to drink in the way her traitorous deputy's ears flushed pale, knowing she'd been caught.

Leopardstar calls for a rushed meeting, telling them all that there's actually 40 - 50 feral rogues on the border right now and she saw them all last night or something, so she's taking Mistyfoot to go confront them right now. Don't follow us.

(Something that the more astute members of the Clan immediately recognize as Leopardstar setting up cover for a death match, including Misty's brother Swansong. She snaps at him when he runs to stop her, Don't Follow.)

Once they're a fair distance away, at the southern delta that divides WindClan and RiverClan, where the cliffs will hide them and the wet stones will not catch the scent (and where Reedwhisker will die, someday), Leopardstar lays it out.

No more tricks. No more schemes. If one of them is to die, it will be with honor.

"You want my lives?"

(Boss music fades in. Misty sees the health bar appear lmao)

"Come and take them."

After she came and took them

Leopardstar is kind of obsessed with the final battle of her life. That fight was everything she hoped for, except that she didn't win.

She wants it again, and she will triumph this time.

Hawkfrost is easily able to twist it into, "You lost only because StarClan shone upon her with that stone. It wasn't real skill. Join our cause and we can get you that rematch, we will defeat Mistystar, win back RiverClan, and dethrone the Stars!" But at the end of the day, it's an excuse.

Same sort of excuse Leopardstar came up with when she believed she wanted an honorable battle, rejecting the guilt and fear that clawed at her to think about dying the way Crookedstar did.

She does this a lot. Dodging feelings of remorse or regret by substituting power fantasies, avoiding any hard lessons. She says she wants revenge, but what she's actually doing is avoiding taking an L. Shame is a vagrant in Leopardstar's heart; she will never let it stay for long.

But...

That's really hard to do when Tigerstar is actively using her and speaking over her in every interaction. Being here, in the Dark Forest, taking the SAME advice she once groomed into Hawkfrost to only look at the positives of Tigerstar's legacy and ignore atrocities, is embarassing.

It's HUMILIATING.

She had her starshine BASHED out of her with a rock and went to the hell she'd been downplaying since she "regrettably" tore down the Bonehill. Being Tigerstar's stooge. Reducing the proud, ferocious leader of RiverClan into a goon.

Towards the end, she will have a scene with Hawkfrost, proud warriors that they are as mentor and apprentice, and vaguely address this. As far as Leopardstar's ego will allow, of course... the shame of it.

It's an important moment, because it's as much about Leopardstar and Hawkfrost as it is about Hawkfrost and Ivypool.

Leopard is too set in her ways to change, even if she is capable of brief glimpses of self-reflection, of which this is one. Hawkfrost, however, is seeing his mentor and himself in a different light. How she'll let herself be humiliated over and over as long as she can cling to her ego... and how by doing Tigerstar's diplomacy work, Hawkfrost is doing the same.

And he's dragged his OWN apprentice into it, too. She accidentally double-killed her friend, Antpelt, but he killed him more by bringing all of these trainees here to begin with. How Ivypool gets pitted against Tigerheart because TigerSTAR is playing mind games, how it's destroying her bond with her sister, how much fun and joy in the Dark Forest he's missing out on by not giving the afterLIFE a chance...

How much he's thrown away for this, before and after his death.

I'm not sure yet if it's the LAST stop before the BOTTE, but it's close to the end of Hawkfrost's redemption arc. Recognition of self through the other. He is part of a cycle he has a choice to break.

But anyway... back to Leopardstar.

She wants to fight Mistystar, but I don't think I'll let her have that satisfaction. She has already gotten nearly everything she ever asked for and can't even acknowledge that she did.

I think it's most fitting for SWANSONG to finally get what he craves; a chance to take a burden off his sister.

Leopardstar allowed TigerClan to STRIP his brotherhood from her because they don't share blood. Forced him to pretend like Rippleclaw meant anything to him, as if Oakheart hadn't been his proud baba as long as he could remember. Stonefur, Mistyfoot, and Swansong are the kits of Graypool; and he's not gonna let this golden FART ignore that ever again.

So my idea is that when Leopardstar meets Mistyfoot in the Second Wave of the BOTTE, she pounces onto her for her rematch, but Swansong BURSTS out of the crowd in response and rips her off, allowing Mistystar to go back to defending their Clanmates

"I don't want YOU," Leopardstar spits, "My battle is with Mistystar!"

"Tough titfeathers! It's MY turn to get a hit in for Stonefur!" He bristles with equal parts fury and excitement, lunging towards a fight he's dreamed of for years.

Still subject to change, though! And I'm not sure if Swansong dies here, or in the 3rd Wave, or if maybe he succumbs to injuries after the BOTTE is over.

It would also be fitting if he got a whack on Mapleshade though... since Maple doesn't even consider him Applekin and won't curse him. It would be neat for him to get angry about that lmao. "What do you MEAN my siblings are haunted by a demon? But NOT ME?? What ELSE am I getting left out of???"

EDIT: I'm currently planning to kill him in the 2nd Wave

#better bones au #BOTTE #BB!Leopardstar #BB!Mistystar #BB!Swansong #BB!Hawkfrost #BB!OOTS #I say this about a lot of BB characters (because I love this project) but man I really like Swansong #Context btw because he hasn't come up in a while: Swan is the adopted brother of Stone and Misty. His biosibs were faders.#Beloved golden retriever coming up for his fake ear medicine to suffer as Part Of The Family #Oak was only going to ask Gray to suckle Misty and Stone for him but then they were like #''Hey wait. Ripple was only an honor sire anyway. This is super convenient wanna parent together?''#And BB!Oak is such a DUDE he was like ''Yooooo ABSOLUTELY I'd LOVE another baby with a friend!!''#Oak cannot walk 5 foxlengths without making a friend. He's just like that.#Sqweezy type grindset #They never really told the kits about Ripple because he wasn't relevant + Queen’s Rights anyway #But everyone else knew Ripple was Swan's biodad because he's the river's reflection of him. and the other two are literally blue.#The three of them were the last to know.#But Swansong is great because he's such a happy kind of angry when it comes to defending his family #He's like ''We have to hide a body? Girlie SAY NO MORE I have already compiled a list of top 10 places they'll never look''#''No we dont need to hide the body..'' ''Ah. Well. Ok that's fine too. Anyway. What is our cover story let's get the details straight''#She couldn't make him deputy because he's too aggressive and supportive lmao #He's actually a lot like a meaner and smarter Oak. He was super close to their dad.#Also he's the mate of Moss instead of Frog because I put it to a vote and we collectively said so #Fixing a minor inconsistency where Moss has more kits after Frog is supposed to be dead #Also Frog was a sleaze where Swankit from the Missing Kits was a blank slate.#Slaps the roof of the RiverClan this bad boy can fit so many blorbos in it #Between Hawk and Leopard and the entire Applekin family I really adore it

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theplottdump · 9 months ago

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ＳＩＤＥＰＬＯＴＴ - ＰＵＲＥＨＥＤＯＮＩＳＭ - PART 2 🔞 - 𝙶𝚎𝚗 𝟼: 𝚅𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚍 -

heat level: 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶 (It's Smut with a Plot) content warnings: simdick, choking, graphic depictions of gay sex, I'm literally warning you now!!

Forward: This scene is something that I wanted to write anyway for the main plott eventually, and the PG-13 parts will end up popping up again in the main storyline - but for Valentines smut sake I thought it would be fun to jump ahead and take way farther than reasonably necessary. Godspeed. Don't say I didn't warn you.

PART ONE: ( The One with the Plott, Rating PG ) PART TWO: ( The One with the Smut, Rating R )

~ continued from part 1 ~

Leanne nodded a goodnight to her boys and left the room as wordlessly as she entered it. They might have taken the time to actually notice her departure if their eyes weren't fiercely locked on one another, both mentally preparing for the battle to come.

"Valerian, you're overreacting again." "Kindly explain how." "You're sure you want to do this right now?" "I'm not afraid of you darling."

Ask any couple about the secret to a long happy relationship and they'll likely explain the importance of communication and compromise. Sure, the two had their fair share of arguments and disagreements over the years, especially when it came to raising their baby girl-

-but they communicated and compromised just as much as any successful normal domestic relationship.

The only caveat: their communication and compromise skills often presented themselves in more… explosive manner.

And it was at this point as Chad studied Val's practiced stony expression that an idea started to take shape.

Tonight, he wasn't going to compromise. Oh no, Tonight he was going to 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

Chad rested his forehead against Val's temple, looking up at him like a fox playing with it's next meal.

"We don't have to make it into a big deal, just some friends and family on the beach." "I don't have friends."

"You'd get to dress up, Sexy lil suit, Sunny can be our flower girl... I'd only have a few demands."

"Demands?" Val studied him, attempting to predict his partner's next move. It was like a mental game of chess, but if all the pieces spelled out 'this man is going to eat you.'

“I want a cake animation that doesn't work, flowers we forget to use-“ “Okay, fine.” “I want to try that mod that lets HANSEL walk down the aisle with a bouquet” “Maybe.” "And I want Poppy there." "No." "I want 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 to walk me down the aisle." "I said no."

Chad snaked his arms around Valerian's waist, pulling him to his hips, effectively closing any distance between them that might have led Val to believe he was getting out of this easily.

"I believe is what you actually meant to say is 'Yes Chad. Whatever you want my darling.'"

"You're delusional if you think I'm going to let that woman anywhere near my happiness. She would just poison it like she poisons everything good in her life." "You're just mad because she read you like a book. I do the same thing Val." "Yes, but I actually like you."

"Mmm, yes, I can tell." Chad slowly starting to grind his hips against Val's thigh, slipping two fingers into the waistband of his joggers and giving them a quick 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱.

Val's eyes darkened again as they fought, rain against fire- Chad smile grew as he observed his favorite little cracks starting to form on Val's evil mask of concentration.

Yes, the Agent decided, this was going to be quite fun for him indeed.

"You're being ridiculous-" "Then tell me to stop." Any lightness in Chad's tone had been completely lost, leaving only a deep predatory growl in its place.

Val raised a hand to protest, his partner snatching it from the air without breaking eye contact, holding him close. Chad continued on in his low growl, "But know this 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳. If you concede, 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗻."

"Those rules hardly seem fair."

Val's demeanor had retained it's cool quality so far, but the cracks in his facade were growing deeper and more fractured. Through the gaps between the pieces, Chad could see his beautifully soft overgrown edgelord, and feel the prize for all his coercing stiffen against his leg.

He slowly brought Val's captured wrist to his lips, keeping a dedicated eye on the man's face. Chad wanted to watch his favorite part of their little dance. Mouth met it's target as tongue tasted heartbeat- villainous mask falling to the ground, leaving Val vulnerable once more.

His heart, which Val professed died long ago, was beating deliciously faster than the man wanted to let on. Persona broken, Chad earned an involuntary shiver from his beautiful, overzealous, and positivity fucked supervillain.

"Oh my love, you know I never play fair."

( concluded on Pillowfort - explicit content ahead 🔞 )

#sim spice #side plott #valerian plott #chad chinsley #spice level: absolutely fucked

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arvensimp · 2 years ago

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Hello! Can I make a fluffy request where the reader calls arven’s name when they are sleeping/dreaming? And arven heard it? I just want arven to feel that he is loved by the reader!

Hello! I hope this is nice and fluffy enough!

A Wish Your Heart Makes

Arven x reader, pure fluff, no gendered pronouns are used to describe the reader

So... Arven is a little jealous. Not in like a mean way, or in a way where he gets mad about it, but he's definitely jealous.

You fall asleep so easily!

It's not that he has sleep problems, per say, but he's absolutely spent a good amount of time in the evenings counting mareep before sleep eventually takes him. He'll lay there on his phone for ages, scrolling through blogs and social media, willing his mind to calm down and be tired, and you're already passed out and softly snoring beside him.

It's infuriating! Not the snoring. Just the falling asleep. Besides, your snores aren't loud, and he'd never tell you about it because it's not like it's something you can help anyway.

So he usually just puts on some headphones to block out the soft, even sound from you, and he goes from there. Sometimes he listens to lofi, sometimes it's ASMR sounds, really just anything chill and calming.

Tonight though, he's quietly seething to himself. He'd forgotten his portable charger back at his place, and his headphones are dead.

So he's laying next to you in your campsite berating himself and trying to concentrate on anything but you next to him.

It'd help if more pokemon were around even! Just a flock of murkrow softly chirping or some yungoos scurrying around the cave, but they're too far away from you both.

He tosses and turns in his sleeping bag, getting more frustrated with himself. Maybe it's just him being tired (it probably is) but he can't help but think about all the stupid shit he did today.

Like, he fell over during a battle again. Why does he do that?! It's not like he gets hit by the moves himself. He just falls over!

Ugh, you must think he's so lame.

Then he dropped a whole tupperware of deli meats! Now, in fairness, that was 'Raidon's fault for purposefully bumping him to get at the food, but still. He should know better.

He's just been fucking up lately, and it's stupid. He's stupid. Why are you traveling with him anyway? You're a stupid Champion rank trainer. You'd be better off hanging out with Nemona or...or like Geeta even.

"Arven..."

Your voice pulls him from his negative thoughts.

"Shit. Sorry." He whispers, turning to you. "Did I wake you?"

But your eyes are peacefully closed with no furrow in your brow to indicate you'd been woken. You're just softly smiling, still breathing slowly and evenly.

He whispers your name.

You just sigh happily.

Are you...still asleep? For real?

"Arvennnnn..." You sleepily say again, drawing out the 'n' in a little giggle.

He raises an eyebrow. "Y...you're sleeping, right?"

"Mmm...." You respond, still smiling.

He doesn't know why he does this, but...well he does. It just feels right.

Arven reaches out a hand from his sleeping bag. It trembles just the tiniest bit before he's resting his palm on your sleep-warmed cheek.

"Mmm.... Ar...ven..." You respond, nuzzling into his touch.

He lays there with you like that for just a moment, heart melting, then silently dares his thumb to rub gentle circles into the smooth skin of your cheek.

You hum a tiny little laugh. "Mmm..."

Then your soft snoring starts back up again, but Arven can't bring himself to move his hand from you.

He ends up falling asleep just like that, and when you wake up, he doesn't say anything about the red palm mark that he unintentionally left behind by leaving his skin on yours for so long.

It'll fade before anyone else sees it anyway.

#arven fanfic #arven x reader #trainer arven #arven pokemon #rival arven #arven

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obsidiancreates · 1 year ago

Text

He Was A Dwarf, He Was A Hobbit, Can I Make It Anymore Obvious

How can I be more obvious?

Thorin should probably be listening to the meeting more intently, but his mind can't help it's focus elsewhere.

He's given Bilbo armor of Mithril, not only a metal more valuable than any other single item in the treasury, but a piece of light weight and easy maneuverability, such as fits Bilbo's methods of fighting and defending.

He did so in front of the whole company, and professed that he trusted only Bilbo of all of them. Perhaps these were dismissed by the hobbit as acts of pure madness, which would be... more than fair, but Thorin had reiterated Bilbo's deserving of the gift many times after The Battle, to prove the act genuine.

He defends Bilbo at every turn, against any who dare question his place in Erebor. He's had plants and books and cookware and even soil itself brought over from Hobbiton specifically, after learning of the various Shire settlements. He's asked Bilbo about his family history many times, always prompting Bilbo to go on when the hobbit worried he'd become too long-winded.

Mahal knows those times were near brain-melting, with how each family branch came with several stories, and those stories came with stories, and how the family tree was really more a twisting vine that kept merging and then splitting off and merging again with other vines.

But he'd paid attention, and made sure to let Bilbo know by referencing some of those stories sometimes. And it always made Bilbo smile brightly, gleam brighter than any jewel, than even the Arkenstone itself.

And yet, Bilbo seems to remain under the impression that the only intent is friendship.

Even when Thorin asks him to weigh in on "Matters of the royal family". When Thorin says he considers Bilbo apart of the family.

So obviously, the question occupies him often.

How can I be more obvious?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bilbo angrily shoves another pie Bombur's way. Bombur looks at him.

"Not that I'm complain', Bilbo," he says, grabbing his fork. "But this is the third one, you know."

"Well aware," Bilbo huffs. "But the meat's too dry again. I'm still struggling with adjusting to cooking so far below ground."

"Is it that different from your smial?"

"You've no idea," Bilbo grumbles, rolling out more dough. "It may be under dirt, but under dirt is very different from under stone. Not to mention cooking with coal instead of wood. And the difference in grain types, herbs, even the texture of the meats are different."

"Can't get it to taste like home?"

"I'm not trying to make it for myself, I'm trying to perfect it for Thorin."

Bombur grins. "Really?"

"Mmm, he mentioned once the texture he prefers his meats to be in pies, and I haven't been able to get it right yet. If I was at home, it'd be perfect every time, mind you."

"Why're you so focused on that, then?" Bombur hopes this means Thorin will finally stop with his shameless and, frankly, desperate flirting.

"Trying to court him, obviously. But don't you dare tell him I said so!"

Bombur chokes on the pie. "What?!"

"No way to start a courtship, asking outright like that. Makes a bloody scene of everything," Bilbo mutters as he puts the new pie in to bake. "The things I would hear about Primula after she asked Drogo, just out in the open like that, ha! Good for them that it worked out, but I'm too old to risk that kind of humiliation now."

"Humiliation?"

"The gossip." Bilbo's tone is so somber that Bombur wonders if perhaps 'gossip' means in Hobbiton what 'beheadings' means in Erebor. "Everyone knowing you're trying to start a relationship with someone, it always breeds misery."

"How?"

"Well," Bilbo starts with a rueful chuckle, "Angry competition, for one! If everyone knows who everyone's after so obviously, things sour quick. Attempts to ruin the courtships, mainly. The lies Prim had to deal with, just unbelievable, all to try and drive Drogo away from her."

"There's that little respect for courtships?"

"On the surface, there's plenty. Behind one's back, though, that's when it becomes a dreadful business. Not to mention the risk of rejection. Better for a quiet one where nothing goes anywhere and things can stay amicable. If it's public, well." Bilbo shakes his head. "That always gets messy."

"You think Thorin would you reject you?"

"I've no idea. Which is exactly how I want it." Bilbo sits down. "As long as I continue with this path, Bombur, I might never have to have my heart broken."

"And... what if he doesn't know you're trying?"

"Same result."

"And you'd just never ask?"

"Nope."

"... How do you think dwarves court, then?"

"I heard something about gifts, I think. Three of them, right?"

"Usually, yeah." Like a Mithril shirt, for example. Or moving almost the whole of Hobbiton into the mountain. As to if that counts as one gift or as many, that depends on who you ask.

"And something about braids and beads, I believe."

"Right. Has Thorin asked to braid your hair?"

"No, of course not. I don't know if he could, actually." Bilbo frowns suddenly, and touches his hair. "It's a bit too short for dwarven braids, isn't it?"

"He could make do."

"Mmm... but we're talking as if he'll return the affection."

"What would he have to do, then? To return it?"

"Usually it's done quite slowly. Having something to give back when food is brought over, like having a tart ready at the table. Checking if they're low on anything, as well, which basically amounts to sharing one's kitchen. Offering to mend things that may need mending in return, and then after a bit insisting it's no trouble and no return needed. And sharing, that is what really makes it official. Especially if in public."

"Really?"

"Sharing a pie in public is as good as shouting it from the top of the hill."

"Never would've thought Hobbits to be subtle courters."

"Please," Bilbo huffs again. "If we were anything but, I assure you idle gossip sessions would end up more like what happens here after insulting someone's metalworking in the forges."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"That's the problem?" Kili groans and plops his forehead down onto the table. "Uncle's been going mad, and Bilbo's been flirting right back the whole time!"

"Why don't they just ask each other about courting rituals?" Fili says, throwing his hands up. "We're the ones suffering watching all of this!"

"Tauriel and I talked about all this ages ago," Kili says into the stone tabletop. "How has Uncle not realized Bilbo has no way of knowing Dwarf courting?"

"Should we tell him?"

"Someone has to, he'll never figure it out at this rate."

"Should someone tell Bilbo, also?"

"Can you imagine? Bilbo learning Uncle has been very publicly trying to court him this whole time? He'll die of shame!"

"He won't ever figure it out either, though."

"You tell Bilbo then, Fili. I refuse to watch him turn to smoke and ash when he finds out the whole mountain knows about this."

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #thorin x bilbo #bagginshield #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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stari-hun · 3 months ago

Text

Limbus Maxxing

My live rambles on limbus company as I play (I like Mili so imma play for them).

Prologue rambles under the cut

TRUCK KUN?!

Ok Kaalaa Baunaa ass

Oh great so our name is Dante and we just made a pact with some unknown entities who are vaguely ominous and homosexual

Faust: Wassup dawg ur now leader of the squad

MC: what squad??? WHO ARE YOU???

Faust: Not the people killing you

OH GOD WHY DOES THE BATTLE MECHANIC LOOK SO SCARY-

Oh god I’m not understanding shit. Can’t wait to overlevel and just be op

Panther: 0 stars on Yelp, shit theatre kid performance, will not be going back

Ah yes a clock with a time gimmick very unexpected much wow very woah

The CG art is so cool, fully how it’s different than the sprites

MC is fr deciding trust purely off vibe checking people

MC: why is everyone calling me Dante?

Faust: It’s your name

MC: Nuh uh

Faust, ignoring MC: You’ll get used to it

Gregor: ay Buddy just to start off with, I’m not judging with anyone’s representation and what they decide to do with their head yk? Your body ur choice

Mmm delicious immoral actions and expectations from a higher organization in control the group is forced to rely on. I eat it up every time. Constantine would thrive in this world

Ishmael: All of your introductions are disappointing as hell. You do know this is us introducing ourselves to a superior right? We’re working right now.

Also Ishmael: I’m Ishmael

LIKE LMAOO????? All that and she also gives an informal introduction. Also the similarities in the way the intro cards treat Sinners and how Arcanists are treated in hit game Reverse 1999

Heathcliff: Yeah I don’t care about trying to please you or fitting in (proceeds to give one of the only proper self introductions)

HELLOOOO???? If he gets angry we contact HR lmaoooo

Ok Tsukasa move it on

Ah yes, the token autistic member, I see you Hong Lu

Ignoring that lady-

Ah another autistic, this time one with an unfortunate but definitely gendered name. Love me a character who just wants to do their job then clock out

Oh ew Dante is French /silly

MC: wow Meursault you’re really one of the polite people here :)

Meursault: This is the normal reaction for this situation

MC: :)

MC’s thoughts: Something’s deeply wrong with him.

Outis going on this long chuunibiyou like rant to MC while they have no clue what’s going on still

Outis: I vow to serve you with unrivaled devotion, Executive Manager. My blade is yours to wield.

MC: here I thought you’d be one of the normal ones….

MC: I mean I want my head back but eh….. eH

Vergilius: smh, I tell you to go to hell and you hesitate? Smh.

Imagine losing ur head and memories and non-binary company takes you, dies, gets revived, and tells you to literally go to hell

Faust: Ur strategy game is clearly shit so let me tell you how to improve

Vergilius: enough useless chatter

No???? Knowing how to revive people is actually incredibly useful?? I need to know how to be doing that

WE HAVE A FUCKING SANITY BAR??? NOOOOOOOOOOO

Oh god the designated driver is a speed demon-

Yeah Kagamine Rin, speak ur truth

Vergilius is such an antiyapper. Get bro some noise cancelling headphones with the way he hates background dialogue

Charon: Damn. A missed chance to run someone over.

AYYYYYYY MILI SONGGG WRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Oh damn it really is a bus and not a train- though to be fair it is like the outer look of a train just compressed into one car

#honeystar #yapping #limbus company #complete shitpost of no value

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pocketfullofpearlies · 2 months ago

Text

RISE OF RED: A TALE OF HEADS AND HEARTS

(Descendants: Rise of Red Fan fiction/Re-imagining)

Chapter 3

Clothes? Check.

Shoes? Check.

"Chloe!"

Skincare and makeup? Check.

"Chloe!"

Jewelry? Check.

Interior decor for room? Check.

Devices? Check.

"Chloe!"

Extra notebooks and journals?

Extra notebooks and journals!

"CHLOE!"

King Charming's raised voice jolted his daughter out of her thoughts and she blinked at him, putting her sword down at her side.

"Dad..why'd you stop?"

"Maybe because you zoned out for almost three minutes there, hon. If this had been an actual battle ground, you'd be long gone by now,'' King Charming said, walking over to a table at the side and grabbing a glass of water.

Chloe groaned and itched at her neck awkwardly.

''I'm sorry, Daddy. I know I got you out here so I could do some sword training with you to get my mind off of things, yet here I am still stressing over the fact that I might not have enough notebooks for the semester.''

''I doubt that'll be an issue, Chloe,'' a calm, soft, lightly accented voice spoke, causing both Chloe and the King to turn round.

Queen Cinderella walked in to meet her husband and daughter, looking elegant in a simple yet stunning day gown that was silvery-white but shone with a blue hue when hit by the light. The dress complimented her gorgeous brown skin and went well with her honey blonde hair, done up in braids and held in an intricate fish-tail plait.

Chloe loved the way her mother's bedazzled crown was placed on her bed of glorious hair, although she already looked like royalty regardless of it.

''If you run out, which I doubt you will,'' she continued, ''the school has more than enough that you can use, ma cherie.''

''I never once carried a book at the beginning of a new semester,'' the King said, going up to meet his wife.

''And yet he always managed to pass excellently well,'' the Queen said, leaning into her husband's arms.

''What can I say? I am charming,'' he said, giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

''Mmm....that's debatable,'' she teased.

Chloe rolled her eyes playfully.

Her parents were never shy in expressing their love for each other.

Her phone buzzed from a pocket in her pants and she pulled it out only to see yet other text from her older brother.

AP Tip #765: Compliment the lunch lady and she'll give you the Bayou Special like we had at Queen Tiana's restaurant last time we visited.

''Qui est-ce, bébé? (Who is it, baby?)'' the Queen when she noticed Chloe typing back a reply.

''It's just Chad, Mum,'' Chloe answered. ''And now he's video calling.''

She picked and raised her phone up immediately greeted by her brother's smiling face.

''Bonjour, baby sis,'' he said, shaking his golden curls out of his face.

Chad had inherited his features from their grandfather, having fair skin, hair the colour of a wheat field and eyes like a tropical waterfall.

Chloe, on the other hand, had combined their parents looks, with her skin that was a perfect light brown, deeper toned blonde hair like their mother and eyes like a flickering fireplace that matched their father's.

''I assume the pink thong on your lamp doesn't belong to you?'' she whispered back.

''H-how did that get there?'' Chad laughed awkwardly, moving his phone so it wouldn't show.

''Tell Audrey I said hi,'' Chloe said, still in a low voice.

''Yeah, well, she's out getting her hair done so I'll see her much later.''

''Are you talking to Chad, baby? Bring the phone over!'' Queen Cinderella said, gesturing for Chloe to come.

''Mommy! Pops!'' Chad said immediately the Queen took the phone from Chloe.

''Chadwick, mon fils!(my son!)'' the Queen gushed.

''How you doing, bud?'' asked the King.

''About to finish getting ready for the tourney match. You still coming?''

''Of course! Your mum's gonna drop Chlo off, help her settle down and join us there.''

''Really wish I could be there with you, Chloster, but Jay has been on everyone's asses about the game-''

''-Language, Chadwick!'' his mother scolded.

''Yeah, watch your tone around your mama, college boy,'' the King warned, his voice strict, but giving his son a wink through the screen.

''What happened to your manners, your royal blondness?'' Chloe teased.

Chad made a face at her and was about to continue talking when Chloe's phone started beeping and buzzing.

''What's that?'' he asked.

''The alarm I set so mum and I would leave the castle on time,'' she replied, tapping her phone screen to deactivate it.

''I think we'd better head out now, ma cherie. It's a two hour drive to Auradon if we don't run into any traffic,'' the Queen said.

Chloe nodded but her brother noticed how her face fell slightly.

''Hey, it's gonna be okay, Chlo. Auradon Prep is the-''

''-the best, I know,'' she completed. ''And it's even more special because mum and dad went there and so did you.''

''Exactly! It'll be a breeze. Don't be such a worry wart like mum.''

''Very funny, Chadwick," the Queen said sarcastically, but with a small smile on her face .“I’ll see you when I’m done at AP.”

“See you soon, Mummy,” Chad said. “Bye, Dad. Eat rocks, Chlo. Love you.”

The call went off and Chloe sighed, pocketing her phone.

“I guess it’s time to say the final goodbyes,” she said, looking at her dad.

“Aww, hon.”

King Charming wrapped his daughter in a big hug, resting his head on top of her blonde curls.

“I’m gonna miss you, mouse,” he said.

“Me too, Daddy.”

Chloe inhaled his clean, woody scent, knowing she wouldn’t get to smell his cologne for the next few months.

“My princess,” the king said, when he released her from the hug, admiring her features that were so similar to his own.

Queen Cinderella watched them, blinking rapidly to avoiding tearing up.

“Your Majesty,” a servant said, bowing as he stood in the doorway. “All the princess’ bags have been loaded into the car.”

“Thank you, Mithius,” the Queen said. “My loves, I’ll be in the car too.”

She kissed her husband again and stroked Chloe’s face lovingly.

“You can put any last minute things from your room in your rucksack,” the king said as she walked away, “including a new pair of shoes your mum and I got for the semester.”

That made Chloe light up and she beamed.

“Really?”

“But of course. Our baby can’t start school without some new kicks. It’s like a family tradition.”

“Now I’m gonna miss you more than ever.”

“I know, I know. What can I say? I’m amazing.”

“Daddy!”

The king chuckled. “Your mum and I will come visit you regularly, mouse, don’t worry. Plus I’m sure you’re gonna make so many new friends; you won’t ever be lonely.”

Chloe laughed with him. “Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it. Now, go on. You don’t want to keep your mama waiting.”

After one last hug and a trip to her room to pick up some notebooks and her new shoes, Chloe was seated with her mum in their cream coloured limousine.

“This is it, Cherie. You’re on your way to a bright and beautiful future,” Queen Cinderella said, smiling sweetly at her daughter.

“Is that how you felt on your first day?”

“You mean my first day in a new school in a whole new country with step-sisters that hated my guts? Absolutely not.”

“My bad; you definitely had it worse.”

“Well, it’s not a competition, dear. And my greatest joy is that you and your brother have never faced any of the difficulties I did.”

“Do you think grandmere and grandpere would’ve wanted you to attend Auradon Prep? Grandpere was a lord, right?”

“He was, and the title was supposed to be passed onto me when he died, but my step-mother had other ideas and I didn’t have the power to go against her. When we moved from France down here, the only reason she put me in school at all was to avoid suspicion, and even though my step-sisters literally wanted to die at the prospect of me being in the same school as them, she couldn’t bear the thought of anyone thinking she couldn’t afford the best money could buy for even someone as lowly as me.”

“And as chance would have it, you met a French prince that swept you off your feet, and your life has been a fairytale ever since.”

“That’s why I want you to go there and find your own. We can’t keep you hidden away in Cinderellasburg forever. The world deserves to meet you, and you deserve to experience it all.”

“You make it all sound so dreamy, but I don’t know, I’m still scared. I hope I can live up to the legacy you, Dad and Chad have set…..okay maybe just you and Dad’s legacy. You get what I mean, though.”

Queen Cinderella laughed at Chloe’s expression, reaching out to arrange her curls.

“Just be yourself, Chloe. Be true to who you are; don’t compromise. You’re perfect. Okay?”

Chloe smiled gratefully. “Merci, maman.”

Her phone buzzed and she looked at the screen, brightening up immediately.

“It’s Dizzy. She’s asking if we’re on the way,’ she told her mum as she began rapidly typing out a reply.

“Tell her we’ll be there in half an hour, and that her mum can only use a vacation as an excuse to not call back three times before it gets sus.”

“I am not telling my cousin that you just used the word ‘sus’.”

“I know for a fact that I used it within the right context.”

Chloe bit back a snort, raising her eyes from her phone briefly to see her mum’s nose in the air sassily.

It was from moments like this that one could tell where Chad got some of his whims from.

“Ooh, Dizzy says Aunt Faye’s going to be at the Welcome Ceremony today.”

“Yes, she’s officially handing over the role of Principal to Uma today. The ceremony’s going to be incredible.”

“Wait…Uma the pirate? My Principal? Okay, now I can’t wait to get to school.”

The minutes in the car seemed to fly away as a comfortable silence washed over mother and daughter.

Before Chloe knew it, they were driving over the smooth, cobbled paths of Auradon Prep.

The car was parked in the designated spot for the Charmings in the parking lot and the Queen and princess came down.

As usual, there were bows and greetings directed to them the moment they were sighted.

Chloe smiled politely in return as they walked the path together, only to hear an ear-shattering squeal that made her smile double in size.

Dizzy, her step-cousin, ran up to meet them, wearing a green, silky romper with reddish brown hair styled atop her head in space buns that were both childish and mature at once.

“Hey,” they chorused as soon as she got to them and they shared a hug.

“It’s so good to see you again, Chloe. You look sooo cute. And Aunt Ella, ravishing as always. Is that a custom design?”

“But of course. I designed it specially for my baby’s big day.”

Dizzy observed the dress closely, nodding in awe and approval.

“The stitch work is phenomenal.”

“I know. The mice really outdid themselves on this one.”

“I’ll definitely come round the castle sometime to check out your new work. But for now, I need to get Chloe settled it.”

Chloe then noticed the bedazzled ear-piece Dizzy was wearing and the clipboard and pen in her right hand.

“I’m still on the clock right now, but you can just join the line over there to meet my girl Celia. I’ve already picked out the perfect room for you in the system beforehand, so all you have to do is sign in with Celia and pick up your dorm key, okay?”

“Okay,” Chloe said with a nod.

Dizzy gave her step-aunt and cousin one last smile before she walked past them to continue welcoming new students.

“You ready, angel?” Queen Cinderella asked.

Chloe took in a deep breath and released.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

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aishangotome · 5 months ago

Text

Minamoto No Yoritomo: Chapter 24

Chapter 23

♡———♡

As I looked at him longingly, our breaths mingled...

In the darkness with my eyes closed... our lips softly met.

Yoshino: Mmm...

(I like him)

(I like Yoritomo-sama)

The core of my head tingles, and I forget everything else.

Before I know it, Yoritomo-sama's tongue slips in and tickles the inside of my mouth.

Yoshino: Nn... ah...

My skin grows hot at the sweet sound that escapes unconsciously.

Our lips part with a fleeting watery sound... and Yoritomo-sama lets out a faint breath.

Yoritomo: You're having a melting reaction, aren't you?

Yoshino: I'm not...

Yoritomo: You are. Or are you not aware of it?

Yoritomo: Then I can make you aware of it.

Even though he's saying teasing words, Yoritomo-sama's eyes are filled with unconcealable heat.

It's embarrassing, but it's also unbearably joyful and makes my chest ache.

(But I've been...)

I knew deep down that my body was showing the exact reaction he was teasing me about.

Yoshino: It's not fair... You're the only one who's so composed, Yoritomo-sama.

(I'm already overwhelmed...)

Yoritomo: I'm not particularly composed.

Yoritomo: I've wanted to kiss you like this for a long time.

Yoshino: Is that so...?

Yoritomo: Yes.

(...I didn't know being loved with the same intensity could be so fulfilling.)

Happiness fills me as I'm held tightly and his face is buried in my shoulder.

Yoritomo: But...

Yoritomo: Now that I've kissed you, you're even more enticing than I imagined, and I don't know what to do with you.

Yoshino: ...That's not true.

Yoritomo: It is. You're a troublesome one.

His breath tickles my neck, and I squirm.

Yoritomo: I guess I'll have to teach you properly after all?

Yoshino: Ah...

His lips touched my pale skin, and my shoulders jumped in surprise.

Yoritomo: Look, what's wrong?

Yoshino: Ah... wait a moment... ah...

Yoritomo: I can't hear you.

A soft touch trails down my neck, and wet kisses are dropped.

Each time, a sweet shiver runs through me...

(...I feel strange.)

(Is this what happens when you're touched by someone you truly love?)

Even if I had the strength, I definitely couldn't escape his embrace.

Yoritomo: You're cute.

The large palm that was supporting my back suddenly loosens its grip...

(...!)

Helplessly, my vision flips, and I'm gently lowered onto the bedding.

Yoshino: Yoritomo-sama...

Yoritomo: What is it, Yoshino?

My voice, which had called out his name in desperation, melts into a whimper.

Yoritomo: ...I can't take it anymore.

Yoritomo: That face that says "do whatever you want with me."

His intense gaze falls on me, and my skin flushes with shame.

Yoritomo-sama's hair, which covers me, sways softly.

Yoshino: I... but...

(When you look at me like that... touch me like that, I can't help it.)

Yoritomo: ...You're truly an unmanageable woman.

Yoshino: ...Nn...

His lips lightly press against mine, silencing my protest, and then quickly parts.

He then gently bumps his forehead against mine...

Yoritomo: It's a shame.

Yoritomo: If you were in perfect health, I'd take you right here, but...

(Take...!)

Yoshino: ...Please don't say such things.

Yoritomo sits up, chuckles lowly, and gently strokes my cheek.

Yoritomo: Don't worry.

Yoritomo: I intended to savor the pleasure after settling the war anyway.

Yoritomo: When everything is over, I'll torment you to my heart's content... and cherish you.

Yoshino: That's not reassuring at all!

If he touches me any more than this, I'll surely melt with happiness.

I look up at Yoritomo, completely at a loss.

Yoritomo: Then don't be reassured.

Yoritomo: Remember what I said and be adorably nervous.

(Oh no...)

Yoritomo: Understand? When this battle is settled, I'll claim you.

Yoritomo: You can pretend to forget and resist from scratch, but I won't stop next time.

(...Even if he doesn't say it, I'm already his.)

With just a little touch, I was easily made aware of that fact.

Yoshino: ...Mean.

I turn away, and instead of replying, I gently grasp Yoritomo's hand.

Yoshino: You're a terrible person, Yoritomo-sama.

Yoritomo: Have you come to dislike me?

(No way.)

Yoshino: It's too late for that now.

Hearing my answer, Yoritomo laughs contentedly above me.

Yoritomo: Then sleep a little longer.

Yoritomo: If you can eat, I'll bring you some food later.

Yoshino: Yes, thank you very much.

Carefully wrapped in a blanket, the heat from her body, which had been fanned just a moment ago, gradually changed into a comfortable warmth.

The feeling of being cherished made her feel a little ticklish.

Yoshino: I'll recover quickly... so I can be by your side again.

Yoshino: You'll be back on the battlefield tomorrow, won't you?

Yoritomo: Don't rush.

Yoritomo: You're the only one who has the power to counter Yoshitsune and Kurama's curse,

Yoritomo: But Morinaga and I have already discussed a plan in case you don't recover in time.

(Yoritomo is being considerate.)

(But I still hate not being useful... so I need to rest my body.)

As Yoritomo-sama gently stroked my hair, I began to doze off.

Yoshino: I'm sure I'll be able to get up tomorrow.

Yoritomo: I want to see Morinaga and the rest of the soldiers and make sure they're okay.

Yoritomo: You idiot. You're the one who needs to be checked on.

Yoritomo: Everyone was so worried about you. Put their minds at ease.

Yoshino: Y-yes...

Her eyelids grew heavy, and she slowly drifted off to sleep.

(Hmm... It's bright.)

I slowly opened my eyes to see the morning light filtering through the tent.

(What happened yesterday? Yoritomo-sama is...?)

I looked around with a hazy head,

Yoshino: Ah...

Yoritomo was sitting with his back lightly against a pile of luggage, his eyes closed.

(Sleeping in a place like this... Did he stay with me the whole time?)

As I got up from the bedding, she felt a slight dizziness.

(I'm still not back to normal. But I can move properly.)

Yoshino: Thank goodness.

After a sigh of relief, I slowly walked over and knelt in front of Yoritomo-sama.

(What a beautiful face.)

The morning light softly illuminated his masculine face with its high nose bridge.

(I'm really in love with this man...)

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, I tried to stand up when,

Yoshino: Ah!

My arm was grabbed.

Yoritomo: Yoshino.

(Yoritomo-sama...!)

His navy blue eyes, instantly filled with a strong light, reflected my image.

Yoritomo: Good morning. You're already up?

Yoshino: Ah... Good morning.

Yoritomo: There's still time before the battle. You can rest a little longer.

His slightly hoarse voice was the only indication that he had just woken up.

Yoritomo: How are you feeling?

Yoshino: Thanks to you, I think I'm fine now.

Yoshino: Even though I'm still dragging around the lingering fatigue of a cold, yesterday, my body had felt as heavy as lead, but that all feels like a lie now.

Yoritomo: Is that so? That's good to hear.

Yoshino: Yes!

(Oh, but...)

Yoshino: If Yoritomo-sama doesn't sleep properly in bed, his fatigue won't go away...

Yoritomo: I'm used to it. I slept plenty for a battlefield.

Yoshino: Well, if that's the case, then it's fine...

(...That's right!)

I look around and see that my luggage has also been brought into the tent.

I search through it and take out some pills I had prepared beforehand.

Yoshino: Here you go, Yoritomo-sama.

Yoritomo: Hm?

Yoshino: It's a tonic. It's effective in relieving fatigue.

Yoritomo: What are you talking about?

With a slightly exasperated look, Yoritomo slapped my cheeks.

Yoritomo: You're the one who needs nourishment. Your face still doesn't look good.

(Ugh...)

Yoshino: Of course, I was planning to take it too, but it would definitely be better for you to take it, Yoritomo-sama!

Yoshino: You have an important body that leads everyone.

Yoritomo: --I understand.

Yoritomo casually took the pill and put it in his mouth...

(Huh?)

He pulled my neck towards him and kissed me.

Yoshino: Hmm... uh...

(Wh-Why?)

A deft tongue delivers medicine, a faint bitterness spreading in the mouth.

Yet the lingering sensation of departing lips is unbearably sweet.

Yoshino: Just a moment, Yoritomo-sama...

Yoritomo: Here.

Water is handed over before any complaint can be voiced.

(Geez, really...)

Reluctantly swallowing, a resentful gaze is directed at Yoritomo.

Yoritomo: There, there. You were so good at drinking it all up.

Yoshino: I can drink by myself, you know!

Yoritomo: Is that so?

Yoritomo: I can't.

(......)

His long fingers pick up the pill and it touches my lips.

Yoritomo: Let me drink it, Yoshino.

(...Yoritomo-sama is really sly.)

I can't refuse his sweet teasing because I've somehow grown to love his mischievous smile.

Yoshino: Mmm.

I obediently take the medicine and hesitantly press my lips against Yoritomo-sama's.

(His face is hot.)

Even after the short kiss ends, the slight fever in my skin doesn't subside.

Yoritomo: Thank you for your effort.

Yoshino: But... Yoritomo-sama, aren't you embarrassed?

Yoritomo: Not at all.

Yoritomo finishes drinking his water with a cool expression.

Yoritomo: Why should I be embarrassed to kiss a woman I'm in love with?

Yoshino: We only became lovers yesterday?

Yoritomo: It took quite a while to get to this point. I'm allowed this much, right?

Yoshino: That's going a bit too far... I think your reasoning is a bit forceful...

Yoritomo: You're not used to it, are you?

(The truth is, I don't mind it at all, so it's troubling.)

Yoritomo gives a small laugh at my pursed lips.

Yoritomo: Before I went into battle today, I wanted to kiss you.

Yoritomo: ...Would you believe me if I said that?

Yoshino: ...Is that true?

Yoritomo: Who knows. Decide for yourself.

(Oh, come on!)

I give a resentful look at Yoritomo as he calmly begins to get ready.

Yoshino: Even though we're lovers now, that part of you hasn't changed.

Yoritomo: What part?

Yoshino: The part where you enjoy teasing people.

Yoritomo: That's right.

Yoritomo's eyes sparkle with amusement as he looks at me.

Yoritomo: Give up. You'll be teased by me for the rest of your life.

Yoshino: For the rest of my life...

Yoritomo: Yes, for the rest of your life.

His arrogantly declared words pierce the center of my chest and melt softly within.

Yoritomo: So live, and let's return together.

(Ah...)

I remember the words Yoritomo-sama said to me yesterday as he led a small number of soldiers and survived the battlefield.

*flashback*

Yoritomo: Yoshino, I will definitely bring you back alive. No matter what.

Yoshino: I... want you to live too.

Yoritomo: Don't be cheeky.

*flashback over*

At that time, Yoritomo didn't give me a clear answer when I wished for him to live.

(Probably... because Yoritomo looks ahead and acts accordingly, he didn't say anything uncertain.)

(But now, he said we'll return together.)

My feelings turn into determination and rage through my body like a storm.

Yoshino: I... want to live with you tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and forever after that.

Yoshino: I want to live and see the world you create.

Yoritomo: Yes. I promise you.

Yoritomo: When this battle is over, I'll be by your side.

Yoritomo: And then... I'll dedicate the victory we've won to you and the Kamakura shogunate.

Yoshino: ...Thank you.

(I'm not afraid of anything anymore.)

The light of Yoritomo's will was surely imprinted on my heart through our exchanged gaze.

A while later... I finish getting ready and head outside with Yoritomo-sama.

Morinaga: Yoritomo-sama, Yoshino!

Yoshino: Morinaga-san...

Recognizing us, Morinaga-san runs over with a big smile on his face.

Yoritomo responds with a slight wave of his hand.

(It feels like it's been a long time since I've seen Morinaga-san.)

(Maybe it's because so much has happened in such a short time.)

My chest tightens at his familiar smile.

Yoritomo: What is it? Were you waiting for us?

Morinaga: I was just about to go greet you.

Morinaga: I was worried about Yoshino, you know.

(Morinaga-san...)

Morinaga: Yoshino, you're able to get up now. Are you alright?

Yoshino: Yes! Um... I'm sorry for worrying you.

Morinaga: Don't worry about it. Yesterday was tough, wasn't it? I heard from Yoritomo-sama.

Morinaga: Please forgive me for not being able to get there when you were suffering the most.

He bows his head with a serious expression, and I hurriedly shake my head.

Yoshino: Don't say that!

Yoshino: I heard you guys were also unable to move. It was tough for both of us, wasn't it?

Morinaga: It was my lack of strength that made it difficult to deal with the enemy.

Morinaga: I couldn't even grasp the fact that the main unit was in such a dangerous situation.

Yoritomo: Don't get the wrong idea, Morinaga. Your mission was to hold back Benkei, not to protect me.

Morinaga: No.

Morinaga: Ever since we shared a life in exile in Izu, it has been my job to protect Yoritomo-sama.

Yoritomo: You're talking big.

Morinaga sighed deeply at Yoritomo, who shrugged his shoulders.

Morinaga: I'm not joking.

Morinaga: The thought of losing you sends chills down my spine.

(I've never seen Morinaga-san like this...)

Yoritomo: I was aware of the danger. I was prepared for the worst.

Yoritomo: But I knew that if I could just get this far, I could turn the tide of this battle again.

Yoritomo's fist tapped Morinaga's chest.

Morinaga: Yoritomo-sama...

Yoritomo: We don't have time to regret.

Yoritomo: We need you to work, Morinaga.

After staring at Yoritomo's bright eyes, Morinaga smiled happily.

Morinaga: As you wish.

(Seeing these two makes me feel at ease...)

Yoritomo: Yoshino. I'm sorry to ask this of you when you're just recovering from your illness, but I need your help too. Are you ready?

Yoshino: Of course!

As we walked, we arrived in the middle of the camp, which was bustling with preparations for battle...

Soldiers: ....!

The soldiers, recognizing Yoritomo, straightened up in unison.

Yoritomo: Thank you for your hard work, everyone. Continue your preparations.

Soldiers: Yes, sir!

(Oh, there are people from the same unit as yesterday!)

I'm relieved to see that they're safe.

(...But they seem to be looking at me strangely.)

I'm startled to realize that I'm being looked at with a clearly different gaze than yesterday.

Yoshino: ...! Um, Yoritomo-sama.

Yoritomo: Hmm?

Yoshino: Um, about me using the fox spirit's power yesterday...

Yoritomo: Ah. Some of the soldiers saw you.

(I knew it...!)

Yoritomo: If you had just taken the curse power in the midst of the chaos, no one would have noticed.

Yoritomo: But you did it so conspicuously. It couldn't be helped.

Yoshino: But...

Yoritomo: For now, I've hidden the fact that Tamamo is a yokai and just explained to them that you have mysterious powers.

Yoritomo: I've made sure they won't pry any further, so don't worry.

Yoshino: Thank you...

(But, those looks... I guess I creeped them out.)

Morinaga: Oh. They're coming this way.

Yoshino: Huh?

The soldiers, who had been cautiously approaching, knelt on the ground and greeted Yoritomo-sama.

Yoritomo: It's fine. Relax.

Soldiers: Yes, sir!

The soldier who seemed to be the leader spoke up on behalf of everyone.

Soldier 1: With all due respect... we have something we would like to convey to Yoritomo-sama and Yoshino-sama.

(Hmm? Yoshino-sama?)

Yoritomo: You may speak.

The soldier's expression relaxed as if relieved, and he continued speaking.

Soldier 1: First of all, Yoshino-sama... thank you for saving us with your divine power yesterday!

Yoshino: ...! Divine power...?

(I just borrowed curse power from Tamamo...)

I noticed that the other soldiers were also looking at me with sparkling eyes.

Soldier 2: Your power is our hope.

Yoritomo: That's what they say, Yoshino.

Morinaga: Amazing. You were already being thanked on the battlefield for your work as a healer,

Morinaga: but at this rate, the day you become known as the shogunate's priestess may be near.

(That would be a problem!)

I frantically think while trying to find the right words.

Yoshino: Um... first of all, please stop calling me "-sama." I'm just a healer.

Soldier 2: But...

Yoshino: My power isn't that great.

Yoshino: I was just desperate at the time... I couldn't do anything in normal battles.

Yoshino: So, I think we were able to get this far thanks to Yoritomo-sama and all of you.

Soldier 3: Oh, you're too kind! We didn't do anything...

The soldiers looked at each other in a flustered manner.

(I'm happy to be thanked, but this praise is too much for me.)

A warm hand was placed on my back as I hesitated.

(Yoritomo-sama?)

Yoritomo: It wouldn't be fair to stubbornly refuse their gratitude.

Yoritomo: What Yoshino did has that much value.

Yoritomo addressed the soldiers once again.

Yoritomo: May I ask you a question?

Soldier 1: Yes, anything!

Yoritomo: Then...

While speaking in a friendly manner, Yoritomo's eyes thoughtfully observed everyone's faces.

Yoritomo: Her power yesterday was the result of pushing herself to help us.

Yoritomo: Do you understand that miracles don't happen twice?

Soldier 1: Of course. That's why we're even more grateful,

Soldier 1: and now we want to protect Yoshino-sama... Yoshino, with our lives.

(...They were thinking that...?)

Yoritomo: I see.

Yoritomo's voice took on a slight softness that wasn't artificial.

Yoritomo: Yoshino, their feelings seem genuine. How do you respond?

Yoshino: Yes. I gratefully accept your feelings...

Yoshino: Thank you very much. Let's end this war together.

Soldier 1: ...Yes!

After bowing their heads deeply once more, the soldiers straightened their posture again.

Soldier 1: We would also like to express our deepest gratitude to Yoritomo-sama once again.

Soldier 1: It is thanks to Yoritomo-sama's leadership that we are here.

Yoritomo: You're getting ahead of yourselves. You can thank me when we return to Kamakura, right?

Soldier 1: I apologize! I wanted to express my gratitude as soon as possible.

The other soldiers nodded nervously.

Soldier 2: Of course, I have always respected you, but my desire to serve you, Yoritomo-sama, has grown even stronger.

Soldier 3: Seeing Yoritomo-sama's back as he continued to fight in the face of adversity inspired me many times!

Soldier 3: I'm ashamed of myself for always being so cowardly. In today's battle, I will definitely be of use!

(Everyone's faces are completely different from before...)

The words Tamamo said when Yoritomo left the mountain temple with them crossed my mind.

*flashback*

Tamamo: It's not just a matter of physical condition. If you only gather those with weak hearts, it will be difficult to win the battle in the first place.

Tamamo: Moreover, the influence of the yokai should make the soldiers even more discouraged than usual...

Tamamo: Yoritomo, are you going to lead those people alone and fight through?

Yoritomo: .....

*flashback over*

The faces of the soldiers in front of me were now filled with determination.

(Everyone has changed too. By seeing Yoritomo-sama's back.)

Yoritomo must have sensed it too, as he smiled faintly.

Yoritomo: I will also gratefully accept your feelings. I'm counting on you, your active participation.

Soldiers: Yes, sir!

As I watched everyone's faces light up, I realized something.

Yoshino: Um, is everyone feeling better now?

There must have been some people who were possessed by yokai during the battle with Yoshitsune-sama.

(Everyone seems to be injured, but not affected by the curse power...)

Soldier 1: Yes. When we arrived here and started talking about the two of you, our bodies felt strangely lighter...

Yoshino: Is that so...? That's good.

(Does that mean...?)

After that, while facing Yoritomo-sama and Morinaga-san at the headquarters, I shared my thoughts.

Morinaga: The soldiers stopped being affected by the yokai because they had a strong resolve?

Yoshino: Yes.

Yoritomo: It's not impossible.

Yoritomo: Tamamo said that those with weak hearts are easily possessed by yokai.

Yoritomo: But if their hearts are filled with strong wishes or hopes for some reason...

(No matter what difficulties they face, I'm sure those people will be alright now.)

Morinaga nodded as if impressed.

Morinaga: You mean the soldiers' hearts grew by seeing you two fight firsthand?

Morinaga: If that's the case, it's a tremendously good story.

Yoritomo: It's an unexpected miscalculation. On the good side, of course.

Yoritomo, who seemed to be thinking about something, smiled.

Yoritomo: ---Now I can make a move with confidence.

Yoshino: A move?

Yoritomo: Yes.

Yoritomo: It's time to turn the tide of the battle.

Chapter 25

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

#ikemen series #cybird #cybird otome #cybird ikemen #ikemen genjiden translations #ikegen translations #ikemen genjiden yoritomo translations #minamoto no yoritomo translations #ikegen minamoto no yoritomo translation #yoritomo main story translation #yoritomo main route translation

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years ago

Note

Personal opinion but I feel quite a let down when Vil's new SSR card is just a bonus card for Jamil's hometown event, even if they made a slight change to the story to include him?? The last Vil's event SSR card is Halloween part 1 which to be fair all 3 SSR cards were barely focused or main character-ish. So I was expecting for a Vil focused event, like hometown or anything that would give him the spotlight more... So yeah, quite a let down, and the card doesn't even have a vignette. Guestroom furnitures are cool, but I still prefer vignettes 😔

[Referencing this post!]

Mmm, I think the thing with the first Halloween event is that the three featured SSRs did play a somewhat more significant role than the others, but they were also bogged down by having to compete with EVERY other main cast student, NRC Staff, and even the Ramshackle Ghosts also appearing in the event. (If I remember correctly, it was Cater who informed everyone about the Magicam Monsters, Jade who encouraged everyone to fight back using scare tactics, and Vil who headed the Halloween planning committee.) Considering all of this, I get why the importance of Vil's first event SSR may have seemed to be minimized. It felt like a mainly “Cater” event of the SSR trio. I do think Vil is an odd choice to give a SSR for Jamil's hometown event of all things 😅 I mean, it has been years since Vil last got an event SSR, but in terms of context this just seems... out of nowhere?

I guess Vil can technically be easily thrown in with the excuse of "oh, he's there on an acting/modeling gig", but then that would work for any event?? And it isn't really justified with a change in the story either (it sounds like it will be 100% the same; Vil doesn't even come with vignettes but with furniture recipes so we won't ever formally get an explanation for why he's in Yasmina Silk). It's a CRIME that Vil won't get to hang out with best girl Najma 😭 LET THEM TEASE JAMIL TOGETHER-- I would have thought the natural new SSR to come for this event would be Kalim (who already has a presence in the event, but not a new outfit, so you wouldn't even have to write much new dialogue for him; this would be similar to what was done for SSR Suitor Suit Idia and SR Suitor Suit Lilia). Even Lilia would work, as he was originally intended to go with Malleus as his +1 (although this route would have warranted considerable new chunks of story to incorporate Lilia into the narrative). Like… are those two not the Obvious Choices???

Maybe I just feel this way because I prefer story and character to how something looks (although nice aesthetics are always a bonus)?? Honestly, I don't really care for decorating the Guest Room or making furniture, I find it very annoying and time-consuming to gather the materials especially since you usually can't auto the Extra battles and the Guest Room isn't all that interactive anyway 😂 I also just don’t see a point in releasing a new card when there’s no story at all associated with it??? That’s probably why Yasmine Silk Vil and his lack of event presence seems more egregious to me... It is what it is, unfortunately 💦 I'm sure there are people who love decorating and are excited that Vil is finally getting a new (non-obligatory, non-birthday) card regardless. I'm happy for them and hope that they enjoy him when he releases!

#twst #twisted wonderland #Vil Schoenheit #Idia Shroud #Malleus Draconia #Kalim Al-Asim #Lilia Vanrouge #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #Najma Viper #Jamil Viper #Scarabia #Cater Diamond #Jade Leech

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aemonds-wifey · 2 years ago

Text

A Stolen Kiss Over Wine

Chapter 2

Summary: You wake up with hazy memories of last night and see where that leaves you and Aegon.

You blinked repeatedly As you sat up in bed, hearing music faintly travelling through the walls of your apartment mixed with the sizzling scent of eggs and bacon being cooked. You were still wearing your Bowie shirt and underwear , you looked around and then reality hit you hard.

“You kissed your best friend ! You kissed your best friend! You kissed your best friend!” It was on a loop in your head and you couldn’t switch it off. You lazily rolled your legs out of the bed and steadily got up and moved carefully to the door,

As you managed to make your way to the kitchen You heard Tom singing “The secrets he had missed…was lying at you finger tips …” he was wearing the same clothes from last night. You hated how gifted he was with his voice, he sang so beautifully .

He stood over the hob frying some eggs and bacon, you noticed the table by the kitchen window was set, a large pot of coffee was in the centre , with a glass jug full of orange juice beside it.

He turned around and smiled at your state “Morning.” He said

You only waved “Mmm…I’ll erm.” You said wondering to the table.

“Oh uh…bad head? You drank a fair bit last night mate…” he said as you sank onto the chair and propped your elbows on the table and held you head in your hands, rubbing your temple gently.

He used the word “mate” your emotions and headache battled each other thinking about the word he used.

“So did you…mate” you emphasized the word ‘mate’ with a tone to it, you had no idea what you were thinking. You kept replaying the kiss over and over in your head as you watched him through your fingers finish up breakfast.

“I remember dancing …and pizza.” You said quietly

He giggled which in turn made your own lips curve into a smile.

“Good old Chris Rea …even drunk you dance so gracefully.” He said

You saw him almost so differently, you put your hands on the table, fidgeting with the cutlery that laid before you. You were doing anything in your power to stop looking at him, when he handed you a glass of orange juice and his finger trips had brushed with yours you felt a nerve tingle your skin.

Your eyes briefly met as he retreated to plate up some breakfast for you, he set the plate in front of you “Bon appetite!” He said before getting his own breakfast. He reached up the top cabinet which exposed the base of his back, the skin looked soft and all you wanted to do was dig your fingers in- briefly you shook your head to get these thoughts out of your head. He was your best friend. He came to the table and handed you two paracetamol

“Take them it will clear your head.” He said.

“Mm thanks.” You said with a small smile.

As he sat down and poured himself some coffee you couldn’t take your eyes off his lips, his hands and the way he took a sip of coffee and when your eyes met you quickly

Glanced down at your food and sheepishly picked up your knife and folk. He ate a slice of bread , occasionally glancing at you as you noticed when you took a long gulp of orange juice.

The electricity was intense and bubbling like a volcano, your fingers tapped along the table surface and you noticed him bite his lip slightly at your nails scratched the wood.

Again your eyes met and you held your breath slightly , he picked up his coffee and took a few sips.

You ate in silence, you picked at the bacon with your folk but had no desire to eat it. You dropped your folk on the plate, the clash of the metal made Aegon put down his coffee cup with a curious but surprised smile, he picked up some food with his folk And opened his mouth to eat.

“Are we gonna…talk about last night,” you blurted out.

Aegon paused as he was in the middle of a mouthful of bacon and sourdough bread. Your timing was disastrous. As he chewed the food you could see the cogs of his mind twisting as he was contemplating how to answer your question, as the silence drew out longer you shook your head with a defeated smile

“Forget I asked…”

He swallows the food “No I…just…”

“Yes…?” You answered a little too eagerly.

“I think…..Listen Y/N I -“

His phone started to ring …you both looked around to see where it was coming from. Aegon looked at you for a moment before getting to his feet and looking for it.

He stopped at the couch and found it on the table , he answered it “Hey? Oh Zoe yeah hi…” he said.

Your heart sank too quickly and you heard his voice get quieter , he took himself into the bathroom and closed the door.

He was in there for a while , you could hear his voice muffle against the walls- an occasional laugh and more words followed. You pushed your plate in front of you a little and poured a cup of coffee for yourself and sat back.

You held your cup against the base of your chin and held your other hand against your stomach, leaning back frustrated.

He came back with the phone against his chest and he wore an apologetic smile , his voice was low “Hey…I have to nip off …I’ll call you later?”

You briefly glanced at him “Sure.”

He walked over to you , you watched him approach and keeping the phone pressed against his chest he leant down quickly and kissed the top of your head. He paused for a moment as he looked down at you , he broke out of the trance when you both heard Zoe’s voice from his chest

“Aegon? You there?”

He blinked and picked up the phone “yeah I’m here just leaving now.” He was gone in one swift movement and you exhaled sharply.

You felt so confused , he called you ‘’mate’ yet he kissed your head- what would he have said if Zoey had not called him?

You got to your feet and immediately paced around the flat, you had some work to finish but first you had to shower and wake yourself up.

As you soaked up the hot steamy water and ran your fingers through your wet hair your mind began to wonder, closing your eyes you gave in and imagined how you wanted Aegon to join you in the shower and kiss you the way he kissed you last night. You wanted him

To mark your skin with his lips , have his hands roam your wet body , you wanted to explore his body with your fingers, lips …everything.

When you finished from your shower you went into your room and sat on the edge of the bed, drying yourself off and getting dressed in your oversized jumper and Cookie Monster lounge pants, you picked up your phone from the bedside table - no messages from Aegon. Just a long and rather pathetic apology text from Jacob which you did not even bother to read in full. You made yourself a large pot of your favourite tea and set yourself down to occupy your thoughts with work- anything to get Aegon out of your head.

🌤️

As the day progresses slowly you finished marking up the last manuscript for the day, you were sat at the desk which was based beneath one of the Windows’s. As you began to note it with your pen , as you frantically searched for a post it note and was alarmed by your phone ringing. You immediately dived for it and looked at who was calling.

It was Aegon.

Chapter 3