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abiiors · 9 months ago

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cherry // ross macdonald x reader

valentine's week - day 1: secret admirer

a/n: before you say anything, yes there will be a part 2 that's literally just a nasty fuck fest. i just wanted to get the plot bits out of the way and it got way too long as you can see. cw: age gap (10-12 years), highkey ooc, incredibly self-indulgent btw, ummm kinda dom/sub? hand kink, kinda corruption kink also wc: 7.8k

it’s been twenty minutes that they’re all sat in this room—concrete walls, a little like matty’s house honestly, simple furniture and minimalist decor. it feels anything but sparse though—there’s the mic guy and the cameraman and a few assistants. there’s the host, a cheery, fresh faced woman dressed to the nines. but ross can’t stop staring. which is a problem because he really should stop staring and focus on his actual job. except the girl in front of him is distraction personified.

next to him matty babbles on about the cultural and political significance of their latest album—all interesting, thoughtful stuff. ross, however, stares at the girl transcribing it all. and that’s what she is really, a girl. all softness and innocence, gently rolling the end of a pencil between her perfectly pink lips in a room full of lecherous men. unaware. aloof. or maybe he’s projecting. maybe he’s the lecherous one for staring at a girl who’s most definitely in her early twenties; at the pencil between her lips, at her cherry red dress.

every now and then she pulls the pencil away from her mouth and scribbles a few notes—something in neat, curving handwriting that is a little too far for him to read properly. every once in a while she also types something on her laptop, long, painted nails clacking so softly on the keyboard that the mic probably won’t pick up any of the sounds.

on her notepad, ross can see little doodled flowers—a bit janky and uneven petals, underneath it she’s doodled a box. thin, pencil lines tracing the same shape over and over again until the paper almost rips.

he tries not to be so obvious—tries not to stare at her face so much, at the curve of her cheek and the long lashes almost touching it, at the sharp line of her jaw, and the claw clip holding her hair up and out of her face. a few strands escape though, blowing gently against the air blasting from the aircon.

he tries to keep his attention back on the interview. and he tries to give himself little goals—he can only look at her if matty says a certain word. he can only look at her every time the host laughs—all trivial stuff that goes out the window every time she shifts in her seat and he catches the movement from the corner of his eye.

more than a few times, he catches her staring back—big eyes lingering right on his face with a distinctly interested expression. every time it happenes, he straightens a bit more and runs his hands through his neatly trimmed beard.

the girl follows the movement with her eyes and ross wonders what she makes of him.

“ross?” someone calls out for him. the host stares, expectant, and he stifles the urge to curse. searching his memory for the question that was just asked is useless; it’s not like he was listening to a word that was said in the last two minutes. but now everyone’s eyes are on him and the collar of his shirt feels tighter than it is. his cheeks grow warmer but ross laughs it off.

“yeah, agree with what matty said,” he replies quickly and clears his throat. he has no idea what matty said last but the host seems satisfied and moves on to the next question. the girl looks up at him again and quickly presses her lips together. still, he sees the slight quirk of them, almost like she’s trying to stifle a smile or a laugh.

this time he stares back just a bit longer, meets her eyes with intention and raises an eyebrow almost in challenge; just to see if she’d keep staring so blatantly. her eyes widen a fraction and the pencil stills on her lips. her teeth graze its end and almost dent her soft lip.

ross sees the movement of her iris, unsure where to look. she fidgets in her seat, shifting again and crossing her legs. then she averts her eyes entirely and goes back to scribbling on her notepad.

“your head’s in the fucking clouds,” george deadpans the moment they step outside on the balcony. there’s already a cigarette dangling between his fingers and smoke curls around his head.

ross groans. “haven’t slept properly.”

it’s not exactly a lie. he was up pretty late last night but ross lights a cigarette of his own if only to avoid looking at george. they stand there in comfortable silence for a bit, letting the smoke settle into their lungs and blowing it out. matty’s boisterous laugh floats outside and ross thinks back to the shitshow of an interview.

there’s a reason he hates doing these, there’s a reason matty always speaks on all of their behalf. but ross knows big publications want all four of them and it’s good to create hype and get the fans excited. and he knows it’s just necessary—

the balcony door open with a creek.

at first, ross doesn’t turn. it’s probably adam who’s bored of the conversation or matty who’s managed to escape it but out of the corner of his eye, he sees george turn around and straighten imperceptibly.

and so he follows suit.

the girl clears her throat. “uh… sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you.” there’s a slight tremor in her voice and she looks up quickly from george to ross. she’s shorter than he’d realised before, only coming up to the base of his throat, fucking tiny compared to him and george and he pointedly ignores what it does to his brain to see her staring up at him, craning her neck just to meet his eyes.

“ross…mr macdonald. sir.” she comes to a stop in front of him, all wide-eyed and flustered and calling him sir for fucks sake. he can almost feel the laugh george is trying to hold in. this isn’t the first time a nervous fan’s approached them and he’s had far weirder interaction. still he plans to smack george later for making him lose his composure

“just ross,” he corrects on autopilot then gestures for her to continue. he expects the usual—a selfie or autograph on a vinyl. to his surprise she holds up a phone in front of him and ross almost gapes before reigning it in.

“your phone,” she says. “you left it on the set.”

quickly, he taps his back pocket and feels nothing.

up close, he can see the tiny smudge of mascara under her eyelashes and the precise shade of red on her lips. up close he can smell her perfume too—sweet and warm, something that definitely suits her.

the girls stares up at him expectantly, still holding out his phone.

“thanks,” he mumbles, voice almost gruff and takes his phone back. his hand brushes her for just a moment—the pad of his finger against the back of her hand. but ross swears he feels a little jolt. quickly, she drops her hand and looks at his chest.

“you’re welcome,” she says and this time her voice is a bit steadier than before. he’s about to ask her more. anything to make her talk more when george steps forward.

“thank you, darling,” he says and gives her a winning smile, “he would have made us all search for it later.”

the girl blushes furiously under all the attention, trying to maintain her bravado from before. ross stifles the urge to roll his eyes but takes the time to quickly look at her again. her hair’s down now, falling over her shoulders and hiding half her neck that was exposed to him before. he has the sudden and visceral urge to touch it, to run his fingers through it and tug on the strands until her chin tilts up to him. until she’s looking right at him.

what the actual fuck is wrong with him!

he steps back and takes a deep drag of his cigarette untilt he smoke burns, until his eyes water. the girl nods and stammers a goodbye. then she quickly scurries back inside.

george snorts and ross shoots him a death glare.

“head in the fucking clouds,” george singsongs under his breath and puts out the rest of his cigarette. then before ross has the chance to respond, he opens the balcony door and disappears inside.

ross stays back on the balcony and groans in his hands. then he lights another cigarette.

there’s a rot in his brain, gnawing at his neurons and eating through the organ until everything is replaced by a single image of her sucking on the end of her pencil absentmindedly. ross has been through this scenario a dozen times now. it was fine when he was busy, staving the thought away by replacing it with work related things.

a million things he’s got on his schedule…

but in the comfort of his home, his bedroom, he can’t stop picturing the hollow of her throat—delicate and unmarred skin in direct contrast to her dress, her voice calling him sir. god, she’d even looked at him like a fucking fawn—all wide-eyed and unsure. he would have fucking loved to trace his finger over her bottom lip right then, if only to steal a sweet sound of surprise right out of her.

he’s going straight to hell for this, straight to the fiery pits for doing what he’s about to do.

ross props himself up on the pillows, delaying the inevitable, or trying to at least. but the ache in him won’t subside, the throbbing between his legs, the dizziness as all his blood rushes south. the tent in his joggers taunting him as if he were a teenager in heat. he groans. the sound echoes around the room.

shame courses through him, already overshadowed by the heat that flows through his veins at the speed of lightning.

he needs to stop thinking about her, this girl who he has barely said two words to. maybe this is how he gets her out of his system. instinctively, his hand creeps towards his thighs.

he wastes no time dipping a hand in his pants, the other arm supports his head; nothing he hasn’t done a million times since he hit puberty. somehow this feels more electric than ever before.

ross palms himself, eyes fluttering close and muscles pulled taut. he’s aware of everything—from the stretch of his soft cotton t-shirt against his skin, to his head touching the bedframe. he needs to keep what little sanity he has left, trying to sort through all the depraved and deviant thoughts racing through his mind. what would she have done if she could read his thoughts, if she could see him like this—a mess at the mere thought of her? would she kneel down and crawl towards him, hunger clearly written all over her face, her big eyes hooded with lust.

ross groans loudly, letting out a string of curses, imagining that it’s her hand wrapped around him—small and inexperienced. stroking him up and down with unsurely; long, tentative, languid strokes making his head swim with deluded thoughts.

his cock is painfully hard. ross knows for a fact that he’s never wanted to fuck someone with this intensity before, never before has his brain reverted to its most basic instinct like this.

thoughts of taking her all over his house makes him fuck his fist faster and faster. gone are the gentle, sensual strokes from before, now his hips buck as he thrusts into his hand. his mind plays a slideshow of made up images—her bent over on his kitchen island, the marble biting into her hips as he pounds into her. he would speak the dirtiest and filthiest words to her as he watches her squirming with want; her pussy swollen and wet. his brain conjoures up the phantom feel of her silky tresses between his fingers, gripped tightly in his hands.

ross chokes out a gasp that turns into a broken moan.

this is wrong, this is so wrong and sinful and every other synonym there is for it yet his mind refuses to move on from her. rather, it conjures up more images—her jaw slack with pleasure, eyes rolled back in her head as she rides him at her own pace, figuring it out along the way. he would flip her at the last second, of course, looming over her like a dominating presence, wrenching another orgasm from her after she’s already cum on his tounge, his hand, his stomach. but she would let go for him again. she would do anything to be his good girl.

his pumps grow rougher and more erratic, gasps leaving his mouth, echoing around the room.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

ross wonders if she’s doing the exact same thing he is, hand buried between her thighs, his name spilling out from her perfect lips. he wonders if that would absolve him of his guilt, his shameless act. it’s the thought of her soft sounds that tips him over the edge until he cums so hard, his vision goes black.

his strokes slow down, back to slow and sensual as he watches his cum flow out of him; milky white ropes splashed on his stomach, on his thigh. his hand is a mess, the tissues he had tried to grab at the last second are nowhere near enough to contain all of it.

with her, ross wouldn’t need any of that. he would fill her up with his cum, fucking it into her, watching it drip out of her mixed with her own release, making a mess of her thighs that he could clean with his tongue.

fuck it. he was damned already. he might as well enjoy the ride.

somewhere in this city, she has no clue about all the dark and wretched things ross wants to do to her. and maybe he could get her out of his mind now, have her out of his system.

he could just as easily fuck someone tomorrow. and someone else the day after.

yes. yes, that’s what he should do. he should forget about the girl he’s known for less than twenty-four hours. that’s what he should do.

he settles on it too, making a mental note to text one of his old flings who might still be in the city. he feels very strongly about his resolve too. the interview is done, he’s likely never seeing her again.

until she shows up at the studio the morning after.

the day starts like any other. he drives up to the studio, one of the assistants tells him that the band will be shadowed for a magazine profile—some prolific publication that’s going to document their entire process ahead of the release. he doesn’t worry about it too much, talking is matty’s job. sometimes george chimes in. ross and adam speak only as a last resort.

besides he has his to-do list cut out for him.

last night—the entire day really—was a momentary distraction. now he’s back on track and focused. the track playing on his headphones is all he is thinking about. all he should be thinking about. until jordan taps him on the shoulder.

“need you for a few photos, mate. and the magazine people are here,” he turns around to leave, almost walks up to the door too then turns back to ross to mouth something. someone new! followed by a waggle of his eyebrows.

ross shakes his head, sets his things aside and walks out with jordan.

everyone’s out in the lobby, and ross hears matty laugh before he sees him. then he hears another familiar laugh and turns the corner to a familiar face. he knows tobias, who shakes his hand and gives him a friendly pat on the back. he’s met tobias before—the man is soft spoken and has a keen ear for good music, a quality ross admires and the thought of him documenting their recording process makes him happy.

tobias goes around making the rounds, hugging george and joking with the sound engineers. then he stops and turns to look at them.

“oh i almost forgot!” he claps his hands together, “need to introduce to a fresh face.”

behind tobias, ross catches a movement. and it’s then that everything around him fades away instantly.

there is no mistaking it. it’s her. it’s the girl, stepping out a bit unsurely from behind her boss and smiling tentatively at the room. he observes how she doesn’t look at him—no, rather she doesn’t look at anyone, cleverly staring at a spot just near them. but never direct eye contact and never more than a few seconds.

unlike yesterday, she’s in a simple jeans and a t-shirt—grey with a faded queen logo on it—but it fits her like a glove regardless. and when she introduces herself in a lilting voice, ross feels his thoughts from yesterday threaten to make a comeback.

this cannot be happening… behaving like a horny teenager once was enough. he doesn’t need her working here and being close to him constantly, doesn’t need her to constantly be a presence in his thoughts. thoughts that are already way too focussed on the way her eyes light up after seeing him. it’s a trick of the light and nothing else. he’s sure of it.

she introduces herself—her name, the fact that she’s here to transcribe and take notes and assist tobias. she tells them she really liked their last album and that it was her introduction to them. matty teases her about not being a fan and she blushes deeply, barely making eye contact with him.

ross, in a world of his own, burns with irrational jealousy. of course, it would be matty who makes her blush and gets her to open up. matty’s a flirt—charming and confident and knows how to get people to come out their shells, even the shy ones it seems. in contrast ross feels about as subtle as a boulder.

but she seems slightly relaxed after that conversation, even throwing him a look once (and only once) when he plucks on his bass string a bit too loud. ross doesn’t look at her for the rest of the day though, not a single time. no matter how tempting it is. even when she’s buried deep in her transcripts, murmuring to herself and listening to a recording of something adam said over and over again.

even when she crosses and uncrosses her legs, sucks on the end of her pencil again—clearly a habit, he’s come to realise. not when she stretches and the hem of her t-shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of smooth skin and the hints of cherry coloured lace. not even when she asks him where the espresso machine is.

the rest of the day ross spends hunched over his bass, glowering at the floor. and he doesn’t manage to focus even once.

day two he’s in the studio bright and early, gasping for some very strong coffee after tossing and turning the whole night (quite honestly, he’s gasping for something stronger but it’s 8 am and becoming an alcoholic now is not an option)

every time he closed his eyes, his brain would haunt him with images of soft skin and lips caught between teeth and sucking on the end of a pencil. every time his brain sent his body’s supply of blood to one organ and one organ alone and ross has had enough of it.

starting today he’s focused. he’s serious!

that is until he walks into the tiny kitchen and sees her on her toes, stretching and struggling to get a coffee mug down. a red one. the same one she’d used yesterday. with some amusement, he also notices that there are at least two mugs near the coffee machine—one plain black and one with a swirly pattern. but she hasn’t cast either of them a single glance.

she’s stubborn, someone who knows what she wants.

shamelessly, he staggers to a stop at the threshold, watching her lean against the counter and wiggle her fingertips in the air as if that would magically summon the mug. her calf muscles are pulled taut and visible in the dress she’s wearing. each time she stretches, he sees a flash of her thighs.

his fingers twitch by his sides, desperate to what what it would feel like to drag his knuckles against the inside of her thigh, trailing them up and up and up until he reaches her hip. how she would react if he pinched the skin between his fingers, if he marked it with his teeth.

“need some help?” in the early morning stillness of the kitchen, his voice comes out a bit too loud and a moment later she startles, whipping her head to look at him and hand coming up to her thudding chest.

“christ!” she gasps loudly, closing her eyes and opening them again to look at him properly. “ross–shit! sorry, you scared me a bit is all.”

he can’t help the way his eyes linger on her face—big, wide eyes and scarlet mouth parted open as she blows out a breath. when he starts walking towards her, she stays in her spot, practically transfixed on him as he comes closer. ross stops right in front of her, their bodies so close that another inch and he would be pressing into her, or rather pushing her body back against the kitchen counter. with some satisfaction, he also realises how he towers over her—almost a head taller and practically twice her size.

her breath catches in her throat when he reaches for the mug, pulling it out and setting it next to her. but he makes no move to step back, not until she finally looks up at him instead of just staring at his chest.

her throat moves, her pupils dilate. almost as if she’s doing it involuntarily, she quickly looks at his lips and back into his eyes.

for perhaps the hundredth time, he’s blown away by how beautiful she is, how fucking perfect. and everything he’s thought about her comes rushing back to him, all the times he’s pictured her mouth and her hand, her soft sounds and the feel of her hair between his fingers. his train of thought runs him over so thoroughly that ross actually staggers back a bit, averting his gaze and pointing at the mug.

he has to wait a beat and clear his throat before he can speak.

“there.”

“thank you…” she trails off unsurely, voice barely above a whisper. “did you want some too? i was just about to brew some fresh coffee.”

all he can do is nod. and when she moves around the room, getting other things out and making coffee, all he can do is watch.

by day ten, they talk a few more times, each time being interrupted by someone or the other—first it’s tobias, assigning her frankly trivial tasks (in ross’ opinion anyway) that she agrees to happily. then it’s matty coming over to shamelessly flirt with her which honestly makes ross want to deck him with his bass even though he knows it’s harmless.

but at least with matty she opens up slightly—telling him she’s been working for tobias for almost two years now and that it’s her first adult job. ross finds out that she’s not from london, instead she shares a flat with a friend.

day ten is also when she stays at the studio much later than anyone else, even when the skies outside darken and turn grey and flashes of lighting burst through every few minute. ross watches her anxiously stare out the window once it starts drizzling a little before she buries herself into work again, sorting through the video and audio footage of that day and making her notes that tobias seems to praise so much.

and so ross does the same, putting on his headphones and focusing of the actual music instead of the tip of her nails digging into her jaw, creating slight crescent moons. this time, he even manages to stay focused for ten whole minutes until he hears unsure footsteps walking towards him.

ross looks up at her, nervously playing with the ring on her index finger and takes off his headphones.

“you need anything?”

she shrugs, looking at him and then around him briefly. “yeah i just needed a little break from work and, uh… barely anyone else seems to be here?”

barely anyone. he’d rather there was no one here at all. and even then, the urge to seduce her into the little soundproof recording booth weighs strongly on him. it would be just him and her and the tiny cramped space and all her sounds would belong to him and only him—

“ross?” he jerks back to her looking expectantly at him before her eyes widen. “uness you’re busy, i don’t want to be a bother. sorry.”

he quickly dismisses her apology, motioning for the chair opposite him before ross smirks at her. “so you’d like to sit there and stare at me huh?”

he feels a little evil for enjoying the way she sputters, trying to come up with a retort or just plain denial or whatever else but he gets a little distracted by the faint red tinge to her face…

what else would make her blush like that? he can think of a few thing for sure.

“what? no! no, i just…” she scrunches her eyes shut, trying to gather her bearings. “i like watching you work.”

oh that’s certainly interesting.

“just me? not the others?”

“uh, well.” she leans back in her chair slightly, getting a bit more comfortable than before and catching her bottom lip betweem her teeth for a second. just long enough for ross to go entirely rigid.

“you’re really still when you work,” she continues, “it’s quite calming.”

oh he’s still alright. if only so he won’t give into the urge of constantly looking at her and following her every move with his eyes like some creep. he has to stay still if he needs to stop himself from going to up to her to try and flirt and like matty does, when he will inevitably end up making a fool out of himself.

but she’s entirely unaware of his inner conundrum. she’s all too absorbed in her analysis of the band.

“matty bounces and paces around and it makes me slightly nervous. i like watching george when he’s on the drums or the piano but lately he’s been doing more production work so he’s always on his laptop and well, that’s slightly… boring”

“boring?!” he laughs sharply. “i should tell george that.”

and then he finds it even more amusing when her eyes widen and she scrambles to backpeddle. there’s nothing to salvage it though. so she just sighs in defeat.

“you wouldn’t! would you?” she looks at him with those big, round eyes and juts out her bottom lip and fuck! she could ask him to sign over half his possessions right now and he would say yes.

“no,” ross laughs again, softer this time. “your secret’s safe with me.”

this time he sets the bass aside, all pretenses of work gone as he leans back on the sofa, one arm behind his head. “what about adam? why not him”

she contemplates her answer for a bit before speaking. “i don’t think he likes other people watching him, he looks a bit uncomfortable.”

��love, half our job hinges on other people watching us…”

“no, not like that!” she straightens, gesticulating wildly, “not when you’re playing songs you’ve already played hundreds of times. i’m talking about when he’s experimenting and writing new stuff. i don’t think he likes to be watched then.”

and once again ross is impressed by her astute observation skills. he knows how young she is—younger than him by a decade, yet here she is, reading his best friend of twenty years perfectly in just ten days.

so he leans forward, properly interested now and scans her face for a bit, trying to get a proper read of her, of what she might say next. “and is that what you like to do? watch people?”

“sometimes,” she shrugs, “when i find them really interesting.”

“so you find me really interesting.”

he expects her to blush and stutter again. it is a bold statement after all and yet again she surprises him. “yeah… yes, i do.”

this time she’s the one with her eyes roaming over his face, maybe a bit over his arms too (something he observes with an immense level of satisfaction) and the way they strain against his t-shirt.

“good,” he smiles. “now i know i’m not the only one dying to know more about you…”

he tries not to flirt with her too directly but they talk. he tries not to ask anything and everything all at once and freak her out before she’s entirely comfortable with him but with every question she relaxes even more, leans forward and places her chin in the palm of her hand while he’s explaining something inconsequential about his bass.

it’s only the muscle memory that keeps him going when the strap of her top slides away and a sliver of lace peaks out.

his fingers still on the strings and she frowns. “no, play! i like the way your fingers move.”

the words slip out before she even realises it. in fact, it doesn’t dawn on her until he freezes completely and she goes bright red!

“i– no, that’s– i didn’t–”

but ross laughs it away, if only so he won’t fucking dwell on it until his head feels like it’s going to explode.

“let’s go outside for a bit,” he offers and she accepts gratefully.

the air on the balcony is cool—the sort of breeze before a thunderstorm—and he’s itching for a cigarette. ross looks at her again as she stares out at the trees outside, swaying with the wind. one strong gust and she shivers. her skin erupts in goosebumps.

“you’re cold.”

she quickly shakes her head. “it’s fine, it’s so nice outside. i don’t mind that much.”

he wishes he was wearing some kind of a jacket that he could give her. the though of her in his clothes does something absolutely primal to him to the point where he has to physically stop himself from grabbing her by the waist and kissing her till she’s dizzy and moaning in his mouth. and she doesn’t help matters by moving a little closer to him, until they’re almost touching, until her arm is almost pressed up against his chest.

“you’re cold,” he says again, voice tinged with roughness but she clicks her tongue.

“‘s alright. you’re warm.”

“am i?” he chuckles deeply and takes a hold of her by her arm. “come here then. have a cigarette with me.”

it’s about as bold as he’s been with her. she whips her head up to look at him, and ross doesn’t miss the way her gaze dips to his mouth. just for a moment, maybe even half a second until she quickly looks away and at his chest.

“i don’t… i don’t smoke.”

“ever?”

that makes her giggle. “no ross. i don’t smoke. ever.”

he wants to say something but the words don’t come out easily. the palm of his hand feels electric just from touching her arm, just from being so close to her. and the breeze all around them makes it impossible to escape her sweet perfume.

“i’m not opposed to trying though,” she continues shyly and ross quirks an eyebrow.

“you could try with me…”

“i’d like that.” he studies her face for a moment, looks at her big eyes staring up at him with a mix of sincerity and interest.

“do you know what to do?”

she mulls it over for a moment, pinching her lips together until they’re in a kissy pout. “sure, i’ve seen people do it. i’ve seen you do it.”

“have you now?”

“mmhmm, seems easy enough.”

so ross pulls out a fresh one from the pack and places it between her lips. his finger grazes her bottom lip, the touch electrifying, making him linger there until her gaze dips to his mouth again and a light flush covers her face. she shivers again and steps even closer to him than before.

“should i light it then?”

she nods tentatively, and ross flicks the lighter on. the flame wavers, almost goes out until he shields it with his palm and brings it up to her mouth. the fire casts a warm glow on her face, in her eyes. and she’s somehow even more breathtaking than he’s ever imagined.

once the cigarette lights, she takes an unsure inhale and breaks out into a cough until there are tears brimming on her lashline and she’s pushing ross away lightly for laughing at her.

“you’re helpless,” he teases. “here. let me.”

his hands graze her lips once again as he takes the cigarette from between her lips. it’s smudged with her lipstick, something sheer and pink. then he places it in his mouth, lazily taking a drag.

“watch.” she obeys instantly, pupils dialating when her eyes linger on his mouth until her lips part and she swallows visibly. he takes the moment to blow the smoke out, bending down so he can blow it in her parted mouth without startling her too much. her eyes widen and she sucks in sharply but this time she doesn’t cough. instead, she bunches her lips together and tries to blow out some of the smoke she inhaled. it comes out in broken wisps and disappears on the wind.

“there we go, darling,” he speaks roughly and watches her blush all the way to the tip of her ears. “should we try that again?”

she nods. he takes another drag. this time, he grips her chin between his fingers, tilting it up until her mouth is so close to his and he can practically feel her breath on his skin. her pupils are so blown out, her eyes almost look black. then he lightly brushes her lips to his and blows the smoke out again.

ross stays where he is. he even pulls her closer until she’s pressed against him and her eyes flutter shut. her breath hitches, her hands move up to his biceps, gripping onto him until she exhales again and smoke caresses his mouth before dissipating once more.

“a-again,” she whimpers but he’s already taking the cigarette out of his mouth and putting it out on the railing.

“yeah?” he challenges just to see if she’d move away but her hands move up from his biceps, fingers traliing up his arms until they’re at the nape of his neck, nails softly trailing down his skin. and when she shivers again, it’s definitely not because of the cold.

“yeah,” she nods and presses her lips onto his.

his heart skips at how unsure it feel, how she has to stand on the very tips of her toes and hold onto his just so she won’t lose her balance. he doesn’t give her a lot of time to overthink it though. as soon as he’s over the initial shock, he wraps and arms around her until she’s fully pressed against him, effectively trapped between him and the railing. the light drizzle of rain starts again. ross grabs her face in his hands, keeping her still so her can kiss her properly—the kind that leaves her gasping when he grazes her bottom lip with his teeth, the kind that has her leaning against him entirely for balance when her knees almost buck under her. the kind that makes her moan involuntarily but ross doesn’t let her pull away in embarrassment. instead, he pulls her up until her legs are wrapped around his middle, her thighs pressed against his waist and his hands under her ass. and then he carries her back inside.

just like he predicted, he fills up the tiny little space of the recording booth. the mic stand clatters and she moves it aside with a ferocity that’s unlike anything he’s seen from her before, it’s a nice surprise, to see just a glimpse into her feral side.

ross groans into the kiss and slides his hand under her ass. his fingers snake up her neck, gripping her jaw in a grip that’s almost too tight. it’s tempting to mark her up, to leave behind bitemarks and fingerprints everywhere for people to see. she responds in kind and bites his bottom lip just hard enough to make him hiss.

“someone’s going to hear us”

“it’s a soundproof booth darling, no one’s going to know a thing.”

his hand that’s been cupping her jaw slowly moves to her throat and she lets out a whine so desperate and needy that all the blood rushes straight to his cock. she’s practically begging for more at this point and he hasn’t even properly touched her yet.

he thinks back to all the times he’s thought of her like this, so malleable in his hands—thought of the feel of her hair between his fingers that damned bottom lip that’s driven him so crazy over the last few days. he can’t resist nipping at it and the sting makes her breath catch.

“i’ve nev-i’ve never done this.”

his heart thuds in his chest and for a second he worries she’s entirely inexperienced. not that he’d have a problem being her first… but he’d be damned if he let her first time be in a fucking recording booth.

“done what?”

“hooked up.” she clarifies almost through a gritted tone, almost like she’s trying not to be ashamed of it. “outside of relationships i mean.”

“no? do you want to stop?”

she takes a beat to think then shakes her head. “no, i-i just really want you.”

ross hums in approval. it does stroke his ego immensely if he’s being honest and he can’t help but see how far he can push her buttons. “do you now? what do you want about me?”

just like she had outside, she blushes furiously, to the point where she has to stare right at his chest and take a moment to compose herself. her hands never let go of his chest though. and it’s safe to assume she can feel his racing heartbeat just like he can hear hers.

“your hands are… i like your hands.”

“do you think about my hands a lot?”

“i don’t–i d—” her eyes go round again, wide as saucers, almost like it’s impossible for her to lie.

“no lying, sweetheart.” he tsks, and then bends down just until his mouth caresses her earlobe. “bad girls don’t get what they want.”

she makes a stragled noise, somewhere between a moan and a sound of protest but ross cocks his eyebrow and that shuts her up effective. a beat later, she tries again.

“fine. yes. i think about your hands a lot. all the time…”

“and what are my hands doing when you think about them?”

he enjoys it very much when she stutters, trying and failing to meet his eyes, to say the dirty words in her head out loud. that alone is enough for his painfully hard cock to throb again.

“go on,” he breathes over her skin and lets his hands trail up and down her body, “show me what my hands do.”

she places her palm on the back of his hand, so much smaller in comparison, and moves it down her body. he lets his fingers trail, lets the callouses pads of his fingers brush over every inch of skin he can until she stops just at the waistline of her jeans and looks up at him again.

“i want you t-to…to touch me. use your fingers on me.”

“that what you think about hmm?” slowly, the slowest he possibly can without jumping out of his own skin, he undoes the button of her jeans. then he pulls down the zipper, all the while letting his knuckles drag across her skin. she shivers at the smallest of touches, so responsive and perfect.

“words, darling,” he taunts again. “i’ll stop touching you if you stop telling me what you want.”

“ross,” she whines, and tries to grind against his hand, tries to push it deeper in her pants but he quickly gathers her wrists together and tuts at how little strength he needs, how easily he can hold both her wrists together with just one hand while using the other to feel her up through her underwear.

it’s soaked and he can clearly feel her clenching and unclenching, desperately trying to move her hips and grind shamelessly against his hand but he won’t give her what she wants until she forces the filthy words out.

“please!”

“you’re soaked, sweetheart. i can give you what you want but only if you ask for it.”

her eyebrows knit together and she almost looks… angry, about as feral and threatening as a little bunny. “fine…” she huffs, “i want–i want you to fuck me. with your fingers.”

the crass words sound filthier from her mouth, like she shouldn’t be saying things like these to lecherous old men in dark corners on even darker nights. “see?” he grins at her, all sharp teeth ready to almost rip into her, “was that so hard?”

when they kiss again, ross pushes his tongue inside her mouth until all he can taste is her, until all her can smell is her. his fingers move faster against her clothed pussy, making the fabric soak more than it was before and her legs spread wider, her hips move faster until she’s soaking his hand and practically rutting against it.

she’s shaking, clenching around nothing and looking at him with tears in her eyes—so frustrated now, constantly whining for him to push his fingers inside her. slowly, ross pushes the underwear aside and circles her entrance with his middle finger. before she has the chance to whine again, he plunges the fingers inside and swallows her cry with another kiss.

she clenches around his finger desperately, slickening his hand every time he pushes into her, more so when he adds another finger and thrusts into her faster. as a reward he lets go of her wrists and she immediately latches onto him, pushes her hands inside his shirt and lets them greedily roam all over his body. she traces his chest and down his stomach, she lets her nails trail up his back, scratching and digging into his flesh every time he thrusts his fingers deep inside her.

her breathing quickens and she starts pressing kisses to his jaw, tracing the golden chain around his neck with her tongue. every so often she tries to nip at his skin, to leave some of her own marks behind. once or twice he lets her… but it’s more fun to hear her gasp and mewl and cry out his name.

“good girl,” he coos at her, “taking it so well, sweetheart.”

“feel so good,” she whispers and lets her head fall back. under his hand, her thigh spasms lightly and his pulse pounds all over his body—his chest and throat and stomach and fuck even his cock that so hard and leaking with precum now.

he needs her so bad, bad enough that he entertains the idea of pulling his fingers out and bending her over right there.

but this might be his one and only time with her and he needs to make it memorable.

he needs her to feel him between her legs for days and taste him on her tongue for weeks.

he needs to bottle up her gasps and whimpers and the feel of her cunt around his fingers and keep it hidden away forever.

so he needs to make her cum over and over again until she can’t remember any other name but his.

and he’s not about to do all that here of all places.

“‘m so close,” she moans out, rutting her hips faster now, almost trying to match his thrusts and ross increases his pace, presses his thumb against her clit harder than before. “kiss me.”

instantly, he obeys, getting lost into the kiss and the way it sends little currents through his blood. she’s no better either, exploring the inside of his mouth with her tongue and riding her fingers until he can practically feel her dripping down his hands and wrist. until she lets out a string of curses and her eyes roll back. she lets out a broken moan, louder than all the ones before and he feels her squeeze around his fingers harder then before.

then he feels her release, gushing onto his hand until he has to hold her up so her legs won’t give out on her.

ross doesn’t stop though, he pumps his fingers in and out of her, each time earning himself another cry or hiss or groan until the tremor in her body subsides to a slight shiver and she presses her face into his chest, sweaty and barely coherent.

“that was–” she tries and breaks off. “you were–”

“have i left you speechless, sweetheart?” he teases pointedly. “look at me.”

when she manages to open her eyes, ross pulls his fingers out of her and brings them to her mouth.

“suck,” he orders. to his surprise she obeys without hesitation. her mouth closes over his fingers, taking them all the way in until her lips are around the base of his fingers. then she swirls her tongue around them and licks them clean. every inch, every crevice.

she lets them go with a slight pop and ross almost gets on his knees right there.

“you are not what i imagined,” he whispers, not trusting his voice at all.

“am i better?”

he only nods in response and kisses her deeply, tasting her on his tongue, tasting the tang of her release mixed with her saliva.

“let me take you home,” he offers. “i want to fuck you. but not here. i want to fuck you properly.”

“like a gentleman,” she giggles.

he worries she might say no. but she only pulls away to button her jeans properly.

“let’s go then,” she smiles mischievously and hooks a finger through his chain, eyeing it with intent. “i have thought of loads of other things apart from your hands.”

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy@sierraeslaprincesa@harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet@thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl

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#this is the longest. the others are not going to be this long #well it's already past midnight when i'm posting this so i'm already a day late but shh you didn't see that #valentine75 #valentine's week #ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald smut #minors dni #the 1975 fanfic

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moriwood · 4 months ago

Text

XOXO — k.sn

kim sunoo x male reader fluff (???) 3.1k words

Anonymous love letters land in your mailbox, signed “XOXO.” Determined to discover the author, you search for clues in every letter but you only find dead ends. After some red herrings and an erased memory, the real culprit was hidden in plain sight all along.

includes: you’re kinda dumb here n sunoo’s kinda uhh… creepy? he has superpowers? VERY VERY LOOSELY inspired by the xo mv warning: n/a?

Like a sunflower in meadows of green and gold, I always turn to you, my admiration yet untold.

XOXO

That’s what the scented paper in the navy blue envelope said in neat handwriting. It sat atop your mailbox, along with a small bouquet of sunflowers. The gift and the mysterious message thrilled you, but you have no idea where it came from. Perhaps it was a case of mistaken delivery?

Unable to contain the excitement, you dial Sunoo right away, knowing he’ll be as intrigued as you about romantic things like this.

“Guess what, Sunoo?” you exclaim, a mischievous lilt in your voice. “I got a love letter! And sunflowers—your favorites!”

Sunoo’s loud gasp crackles through your speakers. “Ooh? What does it say? Who sent it?”

“Hold on, let me read it to you,” you say, dramatically clearing your throat and reading the letter aloud to him. “It’s got no name on it though,” you trail off.

Sunoo hums in thought. “Sunflowers… Jay?” he suggests.

“The florist?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Just because of the flowers?” you ask, doubtful of the logical leaps.

“Well,” Sunoo muses, “if the bouquet didn’t come from him, then chances are the mystery person bought it from him…”

Taking Sunoo’s advice, you head to the local flower shop the next day. Tucked away on a small side road, it’s a quaint place nestled between dull low-rise apartments. The doorbell softly chimes as you come in, a wave of floral scents welcoming you. Sunlight spills through the windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wood floors. Behind the counter is the familiar florist, humming contentedly as he meticulously arranges a bouquet as usual.

“Good afternoon,” Jay greets without glancing your way. “Need anything? New flowers in season.”

You cut to the chase. “I got a bouquet of sunflowers yesterday and it made me think of you.”

Jay looks up smiling warmly, although he seems to be quite confused. “Someone gave you sunflowers? Well, they’re beautiful and they’re in season.”

You nod. “With a love letter and everything.”

You watch his reaction closely, hoping for a hint of recognition. Jay’s eyes widen, then he chuckles softly. “Sounds… romantic,” he comments, pausing. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You shake your head. “No idea,” you admit. “The flowers had me thinking they got it from you.”

Jay tilts his head, thinking of his most recent clients. “Sunoo got one. Then I think Heeseung?”

“Heeseung?” you ask, curious how the rugged leather-clad motorbike enthusiast found a reason to visit such a flower shop.

“Said he’s getting ‘em to cheer someone up,” Jay adds. “Maybe it’s him?”

You laugh. “I don’t think he swings my way. If it’s Sunoo or Heeseung, then this person probably bought it elsewhere.”

“I hope you find out soon,” he butts in. “Or maybe not. Then I’ll make you a better bouquet. No secret messages though, just a delicate arrangement of flowers from your favorite florist.”

As you come home to the sunset, you sit at your kitchen table, eyes drawn to the sunflowers that you’ve potted by the windowsill. Their bright yellow petals seemed to glow against the fading daylight. You send Sunoo a message, updating him about what you found out from Jay, but he doesn’t reply.

You then read through the letter again, your finger tracing the ink as if it would help you recognize the handwriting any better. It felt vaguely familiar, with lines and curves you’ve seen elsewhere, but you can’t pin its author.

—

A few days later, another navy blue envelope greets you, this time with a pair of leather gloves. The letter reads:

Under the starry night let's ride, Where our hearts could race side by side.

XOXO

A single name immediately flashes through your mind: Heeseung. You suddenly recall your shared adventures of racing through empty streets on your motorcycles late at night. It has been a few years since he introduced you to the rush of it all. But his mixed reputation has always drawn him as a ladies’ man, it was a very long shot that Heeseung is the suspect you’ve been looking for.

The sun is setting as you pull up to his garage later in the afternoon. He’s hunched over his bike, recklessly tinkering with it. His trademark leather jacket is absent and lousily hanging on a nearby hook, leaving him in a tight white shirt covered in grime. The sharp smell of grease and gasoline is a stark contrast to Jay’s flower shop, yet Heeseung looked surprisingly clean. Heeseung looks up as you approach, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“Ayo!” he greets, wiping his hands on his shirt. “Long time no see. Out tonight?”

“Nah. Just missed you,” you smirk.

“Hm?” Heeseung raises an eyebrow, suspicious of you. “Some shit’s up. My gut says so.”

You hold your hands up. “Got new gloves from a secret admirer,” you proudly announce, showing them off. You study his expression as you did with Jay the previous day, scanning for any hints of shock.

“Attaboy!” he exclaims, leaning on his workbench. “I wish my girl would surprise me like that for a change,” he huffs.

You pause. “Girl?” you ask, not that surprised to finally confirm that it isn’t Heeseung.

“Yeah, been seeing this girl for a while,” he explains. “Been giving her all she wants—flowers, dates, whatever. Not my style, but I kinda wanna make this one last. Settle down, y’know?”

“Good for you, you’ve got a girl. I don’t even know who’s sending me these love letters,” you lament. You proceed to recount the past few days to Heeseung: the envelopes on your mailbox, the poetic messages inside, and the oddly familiar gifts. He listens with a mix of genuine amusement and secondhand embarrassment.

“Poems and gifts!?” he reacts, stunned. “That’s a hopeless romantic, man. Someone real young.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like who?”

Heeseung grins. “Ni-ki?”

You laugh. “Ni-ki? That kid’s barely out his diapers!”

He shrugs. “You never know. Kids these days grow up too fast.”

You leave Heeseung’s garage still puzzled on who the secret admirer is. Before leaving, you promise to race him again soon, by then with your significant others as passengers. Now you lie in bed, one hand wearing the leather glove, playing with your fist as you continue to wonder who could be behind this stunt.

The mystery weighs on your mind, and you decide it’s time to update Sunoo. Picking up your phone, you dial his number and listen to the familiar ring.

“Hey!” Sunoo answers cheerily after the third ring. “What’s up?”

“It’s not Jay and it’s not Heeseung,” you begin, voice tinged with frustration. “Now, Heeseung’s pointing to Ni-ki.”

Sunoo hums. “What if this person’s totally unrelated to the notes… Like they’re intentionally misleading you?”

You pause in thought.

—

A week passes by and a third letter arrives, with two paper rings delicately interlinked together in a chain. It says:

Slow your pace, no need to chase, Soon enough you'll meet my familiar face.

XOXO

The message is quite clear: this is someone who is close to you. As you stand there outside, staring at the letter, you hear a voice call out your name. You turn to see Jake, your neighbor, holding a slice of bread and a copy of the daily newspaper.

“Another love letter?” he asks with a playful grin.

Your heart pounds. “How’d you know?”

“It was obvious from the flowers,” he yawns, stretching lazily. “Who’s it from?”

You hand the envelope to him, and he reads it over, chuckling. “No name, huh? Kinda creepy, not gonna lie.”

“It’s cute and wholesome,” you argue, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Any idea who it might be?”

Jake’s smile widens. “I’m an early riser, you know… Might’ve spotted someone familiar delivering these.” He takes a bite of his bread and mumbles, “But it wouldn’t be fair for me to expose them right now. They’ll reveal themselves in their own time.”

“Come on, Jake,” you plead, “just a hint?”

He shakes his head, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Nope.”

You sigh. “I’m gonna assume it’s you,” you tease him, poking his arm.

“If it’s gonna be me, I’d go straight to the real expensive rings,” he laughs. “I can tell you this much: they’re always carrying around this mask. And their hair is…”

“Their hair is what?”

Jake pauses dramatically as he finishes his bread, brushing the crumbs off his pajamas. “I’ll tell you about it if you get another letter.”

With that, Jake waves you goodbye and heads back to his home, leaving you with more questions than answers. As you stand on your porch, processing Jake’s hint, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out and see Sunghoon’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey, Sunghoon,” you answer.

His calm and collected voice greets you. “Could you meet me at the train station tomorrow?”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Just come,” he repeats, tone firm. “I have something to tell you.”

He abruptly ends the call before you could even respond, leaving you staring at your phone in bewilderment. He simply texts you a meeting place and time, and a brief apology for hanging up so quickly. You send Sunoo a text about the odd event, only to be stunned by him calling you almost immediately.

“Don’t go,” he says, uncharacteristically serious.

“Why not?” you ask, puzzled.

“I just… have a bad feeling about it. Don’t you think it’s suspicious? Like a drug deal or something.”

“Another envelope came in today. Then Sunghoon says he’s got something to tell me. What if it’s him?”

“You should stop trying to find out who it is,” Sunoo grumbles. “It’s really dumb.”

“Weren’t you so interested at first?” you protest. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line before he speaks again. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Please don’t go. Trust me on this.”

With your curiosity fueled by Sunoo’s sudden apprehension, you decide to ignore his warning and head to the train station the next day.

—

The sky is heavy with gray clouds, and the nightwind is unusually cold. You realize it was a poor choice for you to walk outside with no umbrella. Some blocks away from the station, the first drops of rain begin to fall, quickly turning into a cloudburst. You curse under your breath, seeking refuge under the awning of a convenience store.

The rain roughly hits the concrete pavement, the chill seeping through your clothes. You begin to consider cancelling your meeting with Sunghoon, watching the bustling city slowly devolve into a muted gloom.

Just then, you see Jungwon approaching, an umbrella in hand. He spots you and rushes over, pace quickening to avoid getting too wet himself.

“Hey! Waiting for the rain to pass?”

“Yep, forgot my umbrella,” you sigh. “Where’re you going?”

“To the station, seeing my parents back home.”

“I’m going there too,” you reply, glancing at Jungwon’s umbrella that could definitely fit two people.

“Wanna share this with me?” he says with a kind smile, waggling his umbrella.

“Thank you, Jungwon,” you smile.

Grateful for his thoughtfulness, you ask him to come with you inside the store, buying popsicles for the both of you.

“Popsicles in the cold,” Jungwon laughs. “Makes sense.”

“Didn’t your parents tell you that you beat cold with cold?” you reply, making him laugh louder.

You huddle under his umbrella, making small talk as you walk together. The rain remains strong, but Jungwon’s presence brings some comfortable warmth.

As you reach the train station, you thank Jungwon again. He hesitates, looking as if he has something important to say. Despite the downpour outside, the station is busy, with people catching the last trains, announcements of delayed departures and chatter filling the air.

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to tell you,” he starts, cheeks slightly blushing. “I’ve been meaning to—”

Before he can finish, Sunghoon’s presence interrupts him. “You came,” he gently calls out, eyes shifting between you and Jungwon.

Jungwon’s expression shifts to a sour one, but he maintains a polite smile. “I’ll tell you next time,” he says quietly to you, handing you his umbrella before walking away. “I’ll see you around. You too, Sunghoon.”

Jungwon promptly leaves, guilt gnawing at your gut for some reason. You shout after him, “Your umbrella!” but he’s already gone. Turning to Sunghoon, you find him staring straight at you.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?” you ask, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of Jungwon.

“I thought you’d cancel. It’s raining hard,” Sunghoon says, concerned. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you. “Wipe yourself off, you might catch a cold.”

As you wipe off some droplets of rain on your arm, you repeat, “Tell me why you wanted me to come here.”

Sunghoon takes a deep breath. “I’m moving away tonight,” he begins in his earnest voice. “And before I leave, I want to tell you that… I like you.”

You blink once. Suddenly, your vision dissolves into a hazy blur. Sunghoon seems to be saying something but you only hear incoherent noise. Then all you see is pitch black.

—

Today the third letter lands in your mailbox, along with an eccentric kitsune mask. It says:

My immature guise holds a power sublime, A single blink could alter our destined time.

XOXO

This one perplexes you, a poem you cannot comprehend and a gift you cannot link to anyone you know. Could the sender just be an insane stalker? As you stand there outside, staring at the letter, you hear a voice call out your name. You turn to see Jake, your neighbor, holding a slice of bread and a copy of the daily newspaper.

“Another love letter?”

“How’d you know?”

“The bouquet,” he yawns. “Who’s it?”

You hand the envelope to him, and he reads it over, grumbling. “That’s too much for my morning brain.”

“Any idea who it might be?” you ask.

“Come on, Jake,” you plead, “just a hint?”

Jake pauses. “I can tell you this much: they’re always carrying around this mask. And their hair is blonde.”

“As in this mask?” you ask, raising the mask that came along with today’s love letter.

“Yep,” he nods. “I think that’s more than enough for you to guess correctly.”

Jake waves you goodbye and shuts his door on you. As you stand on your porch, processing his hint to the list of people you know, you hear another voice calling for you. It’s Ni-ki, the kid Heeseung told you about.

You turn to see Ni-ki, looking serious as he steps out of his car.

“Let’s go to Sunoo’s right now,” he says in a commanding tone.

“Why? What’s going on?” you reply, confused with what Ni-ki was trying to do.

“He’s been acting strange lately,” he says. “I think he’s hiding something.”

He grabs your hand to pull you away, noticing the mask you are holding.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims. “That’s exactly the one he was wearing. I knew Sunoo got into a cult—”

“What cult?”

“Hurry up!” Ni-ki tugs at your hand, leading you back to his car.

As Ni-ki pulls away, he glances at you with worried eyes. “I just wanted to surprise him with a visit. But he was going out, and he was wearing that mask.”

You carefully inspect the mask. “What do you think this means?”

Ni-ki sighs, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I shouldn’t have followed him. He went to your place so early in the morning then left something. Then he did it again. And again.”

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Sunoo was behind the love letters. You feel shocked, confused, and relieved all at the same time.

You arrive at Sunoo’s house and catch him sneaking back, hooded, holding a kitsune mask that is perfectly identical to yours. Your heart races as the pieces finally fall into place. You rush out of Ni-ki’s car, ignoring his pleas. “What if he casts some curse on you?” he hisses quietly.

“Sunoo!” you shout.

He turns, visibly startled before he musters up a fake smile. “Hey, it’s so early! What brings you to my humble abode?” he awkwardly greets you.

You hold up the latest letter and the mask. “We need to talk.”

Sunoo’s smile falters, spotting Ni-ki’s car behind you. “Ni-ki brought you here?”

“Don’t change the topic,” you grunt, pulling Sunoo inside his home.

The tension in Sunoo’s living room is palpable. Sunoo’s eyes are fixed on his carpet, feet shifting left and right like a child who’s about to be reprimanded.

“Sunoo,” you begin, “I need you to be honest with me. Are you the one who’s been sending me the letters?”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods slowly. “Yes, it’s been me all along.”

You press a finger to your temple and breathe deeply. “Are you making fun of me, Sunoo? Did my enthusiasm satisfy you—”

“It’s not a joke!” Sunoo cuts you off. He meets your eyes, vulnerable. “I didn’t know how to confess, so I came up with all of this. I got a lot more letters prepared but things just went awry.”

You place your mask on his coffee table and pull him into a tight embrace. “You didn’t have to be scared. I’m open to receiving a lot more letters, Sunoo.”

Sunoo chuckles, a bit sheepish. “Although I do admit I enjoyed watching you figure out who I was through our friends.”

You shake your head, smiling. “You really are something else.” You step back, looking at the matching masks that you and Sunoo now have.

“So the sunflowers were because they’re your favorites?” you ask. He nods, a warm grin spreading across his face like the bright petals of a sunflower.

“And the gloves because…?”

“I wanna go on rides with you,” he replies. You nod, imagining Sunoo hugging you from behind as you drive through the city under the night sky.

“And the mask…?”

“That’s a long story,” he replies, voice dropping to a low, enigmatic tone. “You want more letters, right?”

You smile. “I will gladly be your audience. Show me.”

He grabs his mask and slowly puts it on. “I think you should blink first.”

You blink, and immediately your head rings. Your vision blurs, and then everything goes black.

author’s note: i wanted to keep this one very cute and wholesome but i think i just made a horror story AJSFODJZXICVHUOHVBOUAEHRTB

— moriwood.

#enhypen x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop fanfiction #enhypen x reader #kim sunoo x male reader #fluff #kim sunoo x reader #sunoo x male reader #sunoo x reader #sunoo x you #mori fics

95 notes · View notes

hypnoneghoul · 7 months ago

Text

Cosmic Love

WC: 1,3k

Relationship: Swiss & Mountain

Tags: Domestic Fluff, Song Fic, Really Deep Love, Poetic Fic (I hope at least because that was the plan)

“You’re everything, sweetheart,” Swiss says and even though Mountain is asleep, the corners of his lips curl upwards slightly. “You’re everything, darling,” Mountain says and even though Swiss is already grinning, his smile seems to grow and brighten.

Notes: This is kinda special, I took this and made it bigger and better and deeper. Also this is dedicated to @arkeusruin because you don't even know how important your words on friday were. Thank you, you're awesome <3

Read under the cut or on AO3.

To Swiss, Mountain is the prettiest creature that has ever been called up from the Pit. A deity, truly.

“You are so beautiful it's hard to believe you’re real sometimes, my love,” Swiss whispers to him, laying on his side and watching, adoring, loving. “Especially in moments like these.”

He is sprawled out in their nest, wrapped in soft sage sheets and bathed in sunlight coming in from the window. His hair is down, the loose amber strands spilling down his shoulder and chest in a way that looks as if Lucifer himself had gently laid each individual silky wave in this perfect composition.

His face is fully relaxed, a thing so rare Swiss' heart hurts whenever he is rewarded with getting to see Mountain like this. His eyelashes kiss his pink-tinged and freckle-adorned cheeks and his plush lips are slightly parted. The multi ghoul could swear it is an invitation to slot his own against them.

His whole lean body lies limply, but not disorderly—long limbs arranged in a careful, yet unconscious, way. It is just asking to be painted, to be preserved. Such beauty can not be wasted.

Swiss would, if he only had the skill. He would never dare to try, would not risk the desecration of portraying Mountain as less than he really is.

“You’re everything, sweetheart,” the multi ghoul says and even though Mountain is asleep, the corners of his lips curl upwards slightly. Knowing, understanding.

Mountain is to be worshiped and that is something Swiss can do. That is something he does, and will never stop. In any way he would desire, Swiss will worship him. Will pray to him for the gift of it.

He smiles softly and sighs. Words come to his mind and while there is not enough in any language known to man or demon to describe the love he has for Mountain, there is one thing that feels close.

And so Swiss starts to sing quietly.

I'd rather take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

You're too sweet for me

He will sing more and he will wish he had more to give, but for now, Mountain sleeps.

And Swiss watches.

Swiss could cry with love when Mountain wakes. He stretches, as if showing off his perfect body first thing in the morning, and there is a deep rumble coming from within him. Content to be waking, ready to face another day with his mate by his side.

The multi ghoul ends the feast for his eyes and moves closer, truly gluing himself to Mountain’s side. He breathes in his scent—the smell of the first days of summer—and a pleased trill leaves his lips, “Good morning, my love.”

The earth ghoul does not reply, only his purring increases in volume. Swiss understands.

He wraps his hands around Mountain and squeezes him as if he could pull him into his own body and keep him there, safe and sound.

“Wanna stay in here for a bit longer?” Swiss asks and his mate nods gently, rubbing his face against the multi ghoul’s chest. He smiles and settles, letting his eyes slip shut again.

It is soft and warm and just perfect and it is one of those moments that the both of them wish could last forever. Mountain stays awake. It is most likely Swiss who dozes off again, but his mate does not mind.

The silence is comfortable around them and the earth ghoul does not feel the need to fill it. When he starts to sing, it is an expression.

I will leave you notes

Under your door

Under the singing moon

Near the place where your feet pass

Hidden in the holes of wintertime

And when you're alone for a moment...

Kiss me

Whenever you want

Mountain could cry with love as he watches Swiss cook. It is nearly like a dance, the way he moves along the counter, grabbing this and that to make a delicious meal for his mate and the rest of their pack. He is purring—most likely unconsciously—content to pour his feelings out into something physical, something to share.

The earth ghoul sits on the edge of the counter as he sips his tea, feasting his eyes on his mate over the rim of his mug. He chirps when Swiss moves closer to him and steps between his legs to press a kiss to his freckled nose. “What’s that for, my heart?”

The multi ghoul does not reply, only his purring increases in volume. Mountain understands.

He sets his tea down before wrapping his hands around Swiss. He squeezes him as if he could pull him into his own body and keep him there, safe and sound.

“Want to take a break from all the cooking?” Mountain asks, but his mate shakes his head gently, rubbing his nose against the earth ghoul’s shoulder. He smiles and nods, letting him go so he can continue.

It is soft and warm and just perfect and it is one of those moments that the both of them wish could last forever. Mountain stays seated on the counter, watching.

The silence is comfortable around them and neither of them feels the need to fill it. Swiss turns on his music quietly, anyway, but Mountain does not mind. When he starts to sing, it is an expression.

You keep me all together

You take me out whenever I'm lettin' down

You got the motions baby

I got a notion maybe I'll stick around

Because, oh

I can never doubt you for too long

I can't see no reason

You're my kinda lover

To Mountain, Swiss is the prettiest creature that has ever been called up from the Pit. A deity, truly.

“You are so beautiful it's hard to believe you’re real sometimes, my heart,” Mountain whispers to him and his chest squeezes painfully as Swiss smiles. “Especially in moments like these.”

His arms are wrapped all around the one he calls his love. He is smiling as they dance. His hair is down and the night-colored locks jump with his movements, as fluid as the rest of him.

His face is glowing, tawny brown skin shimmering in artificial light not holding a candle to his own shine. His smile is so bright that it could resurrect a dead star and it is framed by plush lips simply begging to be kissed swollen. The whole picture is adorned by two molten drops of gold that Mountain would gladly drown and melt himself in.

Swiss’ whole body—muscled, yet soft around the edges—moves smoothly like water, his hips swaying. It is just asking to be painted in his movement, to be preserved. Such beauty can not be wasted.

Mountain would, if he only had the skill. He would never dare to try, would not risk the desecration of portraying Swiss as less than he really is.

“You’re everything, darling,” the earth ghoul says and even though Swiss is already grinning—oh, so widely—his smile seems to grow and brighten even more. Grateful, appreciating.

Swiss is to be begged for his blessings and that is something Mountain can do. That is something he does, and will never stop. For anything he would offer, Mountain will beg and pray. Will worship him.

He smiles softly and sighs. He regrets not being as good with his words as he would wish to be, but those already resonating through the room feel appropriate.

And so Mountain starts to sing quietly.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

He will sing more and he will wish he had more to give, but for now, they dance.

And Mountain watches.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #hypnone writes #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps

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danisbrainrot · 7 months ago

Note

I love misty and you so... misty is obsessed with the reader and always making them little gifts, following them everywhere and trying to help with everything while the reader is going from "girl we talked like twice fuck off" to "that's creepy but actually kinda cute ig"

misty quigley x reader

OMG I LOVE THIS ACTUALLY!! misty in her joe goldberg era 🤭 I don't know how far you wanted me to go, so I'll keep this relatively sfw. if you want a nsfw version, just ask!!

slamming your locker open, you started ruffling through it in search of your textbook that was mysteriously missing, when a small box fell out. you paused what you were doing, crouching down to inspect it.

it was a plain plastic box, that contained a funky little smiley face ring in it. this wasn't the first gift you'd received that month, having found something different in your locker everyday. this one was just an odd surprise—you wondered how they knew you loved novelty rings. snorting while covering your mouth with your hand, you wasted no time slipping it on your finger with a grin.

your friend, mari, waved at you, ready to walk you to class when she noticed your new gift, "hey, where'd you get the ring?"

you shrugged, "found it in my locker. someone must have slipped it in? I'm not sure, but we're going to be late," you reply, finding the textbook and slamming the locker shut.

"isn't this like the fourth weird gift you've found this week? you might have a secret admirer!" mari teases, causing you to groan and roll your eyes.

the two of you head to class, not noticing misty who was hiding behind the wall, watching you the entire time. she smiled softly, glad you liked her little gift. she pulled out a notepad, placing a small tick next to 'cute jewellery.'

she followed you to class, having picked the same classes as you so you'd never leave her sight. you'd chosen to sit at the back with your friend, whereas misty was forced to sit at the front. she scowled and watched the clock all lesson until class finished.

not wanting to waste time, misty got to work making her next gift for you. she pulled out her notepad and saw the next gift idea was 'love letters'. flicking to a new page, misty neatly wrote your name in cursive, ready to start when she realised she didn't know what to say.

your laughter from the back of the room made misty perk up, finally sure what she wanted to write. she began scribbling frantically as she didn't want to forget any compliments.

when class finished, you walked past her and saw your name at the top of the page in her neat handwriting. your heart raced, not sure how to feel about it, before looking away and focusing on the conversation with mari. misty quickly tried to cover the letter as you walked past, not realising you'd already seen it.

you'd completely forgotten about misty's letter until the next day, when you'd opened your locker to find it neatly laid on top of your books. it freaked you out that she knew how to break into your locker—even wondering if she knew your combination or it was a coincidence that it landed perfectly.

turning around, your eyes scanned the hall—misty was nowhere in sight. a shiver creeped up your spine, knowing she could be watching you at any minute and you wouldn't know. slamming your locker shut, you didn't bother reading it.

watching from her hiding spot, she sighed, wondering why you didn't like her latest gift. she pulled out her notepad and crossed out 'love letters' and shoved it in her backpack. she quietly followed you, not realising you were heading for the bathroom. when she saw you walk in, her heart raced as she tried to make a quick decision—did she follow you and seem suspicious? or just head to your next lesson and wait for you?

seeing mari enter after you, she decided on the second option and ran to your next class. this time she managed to snag a seat at the back, able to see you perfectly no matter where you sat. however, when five minutes passed and you still weren't in class, she began to feel disappointment simmering in her stomach.

raising her hand in the air, the teacher called on her, "can I go to the toilet?" misty asked, the teacher nodded. she grabbed her stuff, stomping straight to the toilet she'd seen you in last. carefully opening the door, trying not to make a big sound she saw your feet under one of the stalls.

"mari? is that you?" you call out, hearing no other response, you huff. "do you have a pad? or a tampon?" misty lightened up, rustling through her bag and handing you a pad from under the door. "thanks," she smiled widely, wondering whether or not to say anything.

when misty heard you flush the toilet, she knew it had been too long to say anything, so you ran out of the toilet and back to class. she pulled out her notebook and added a new addition to her list 'pads'.

after school, you made your way to soccer practice. placing your stuff to the side of the field, you don't notice misty had approached you from behind. you almost jump in shock. "misty what the fuck," you hiss, clutching your heart.

"sorry, I just noticed you didn't bring your water bottle today," she explains, making you scrunch your nose in confusion—she almost fainted at the sight. you began ruffling through your bag, swearing you'd brought it, but failing to find it. "here! I always bring bottled water as a backup?"

you accept it graciously, smiling at her—a good effort considering you were still frustrated from losing your old bottle. waving goodbye to her before running on to the field, she searched her bag to see if your water bottle was still there—when her hand wrapped around it, she smiled.

misty didn't have time to add 'water' to the list, since she was the equipment manager both coaches needed her. but once practice was finished, she made sure to tick the latest discovery.

watching your sweaty body pour the bottled water over your face made her stomach tingly, as she tried to ignore the hot feeling you gave her. she had a mission to complete, now was not the time to let her hormones crowd her thoughts.

misty approaches you and van, "hey! I found your water bottle," she announces, holding it out for you.

your heart sinks, as you send van a nervous glance. van struggles to hold back her laughter, as you give misty a strained smile. "thank you. . . where did you find it?"

"your bag?" van teases.

"no!" misty cries, readjusting her glasses, "it was in one of the sports bags. you must have accidentally thrown it in last practice," she lies perfectly. you pretend you believe her, trying to get out of the conversation.

snatching the bottle out of her hand, you shove it in your bag. "that's a nice ring," misty compliments, you look down at it, then back at her suspiciously.

"did you get it for me?" you ask nervously, heart racing as you did. she nodded her head eagerly, making you feel sick. "what the fuck, misty?" noticing how awkward it had become, van excused herself and left the two of you alone—making you uncomfortable. "are you like, stalking me or something? why do you keep giving me things? it's weird!"

misty readjusts her glasses again nervously, "I'm just not. . . i—um, it's because—"

"seriously, you need to fuck off, this is so creepy," you reply. turning on your heel, you power walked far away from her, leaving the blonde dejected.

misty stomped to the equipment shed, trying to think of ways to get you to love her. coach ben entered, trying his best to avoid her gaze, but it was too late, "coach, how do I get the person I like to like me back?"

he stared at her oddly, "um. . . I'm not sure, misty. maybe find something they like?"

"I tried that!" she complains.

he shrugged, "I don't think this is a conversation we should be having," he replies.

misty groans in frustration, "okay coach," she whispers sarcastically, stomping out of the shed. she was in a foul mood and nothing could stop it.

over the next couple of days, it was relatively quiet. you didn't receive any more trinkets, which surprisingly made you upset. you missed the little gifts misty left in your locker—but mostly, you felt guilty for yelling at her. she was just being nice and you were a bitch to her.

that's why, during lunch, you approached her where she usually sat. misty was crouched over her notepad, scribbling on it. sitting next to her, "I'm sorry for yelling at you," you whisper, making her jump.

"jesus! you scared me," she replies, before smiling when she realised it was you. "oh. . . it's okay," you look at what she was writing and noticed your name was on the top of the page.

you bumped her shoulder with your own, "what're you writing?" you tease, causing her to blush a deep crimson. she passed the note to you, letting you read it. it was a long apology for being 'creepy'. you giggle, biting your lip. "you didn't have to do this, I should be the one apologising," she shrugs.

"it was weird," she whispers, looking at the ground.

you place your fingers under her chin, forcing her to look at you. "it was sweet. I see that now," you assure her. to make it sink, you lean in and softly press your lips against hers. sending her nerves into overdrive, misty gets eager and responds by kissing you back harder—almost devouring your lips. you don't mind, however, it's nice to be hungered for.

��💌—

25 years later

slotting your key in the lock, you turn it until you hear the satisfying click and shove the door open. trudging through the hall, you end up in the kitchen and place the groceries on the bench. your phone rings, and you smile when you see your girlfriend's face. "hey, did you check the fridge," misty asks, making you pause.

you froze, wondering what she was talking about. leaving the phone on the counter, opening the fridge door and seeing a cupcake on one of the trays. you bit your bottom lip while smiling, picking up the phone. "thank you, my love. did you make it yourself?"

"of course, I know how much you love my gifts," she replies, you snort loudly and bring the treat to your lips, taking a bite out of it and moaning in delight.

misty waited patiently on the other side of the line, blushing when she heard the sound come out of your mouth. "it's delicious, thank you, misty," you compliment.

"it's to make up for being late tonight, I'm sorry," she sighs, and you hear typing sounds on the other end of the phone.

you smile widely, "don't worry about it. if anything, it'll make your surprise easier to plan," you tease—practically hearing her ears perk up.

she thanks you quickly, explaining that it was getting busy at work. you use this to get started on the gift you were preparing for her.

"I'm home!" misty called out, closing the door behind her. when she was greeted by silence, she frowned. you always met her at the door, placing a kiss on her cheek.

sniffing the air, she smelt her favourite dinner being prepared and her stomach practically growled. misty walked into the kitchen with a beaming smile on her face.

you turn around, a cute little apron on and a spatula in hand. "hey! you said you were working late," you complain, pouting at her.

she shrugs, "sorry, they let me go because someone could cover the rest of my shift," misty explains. you smile, walking towards her and wrapping your arms around her neck. you claim her lips with your own, and she can taste the flavours from dinner.

"I figured that you always give me sweet gifts, it's time for me to return the favour. it was low key creepy in the beginning, but now it's cute. thank you," you whisper. she eagerly smashes her lips on yours, backing you against the counter. you giggle into the kiss, wrapping your legs around her waist and jumping up on the bench.

the dinner sizzled, as it was starting to burn, but the two of you didn't care, too absorbed by each other.

#misty quigley #misty x reader #fanfic #misty quigley x reader #fluff #wlw #danisasks #oneshot #yellowjackets #mari yellowjackets #creepy misty #van palmer #angst with fluff #angst with comfort #happy ending #yellowjackets showtime

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scionsthings · 5 months ago

Text

CHAVIER NATION ( composed by me and other 2 people i know ) TODAY WE RECEIVED A BEAUTIFUL GIFT

My dearest friend @lilithkan wrote a Chavier fanfiction for us and it's AMAZING

They asked me to publish it myself so here we go with a little highlight from me ( What did Bill do? Just read ;)) , comments and feedbacks are very much appreciated! Enjoy

Just for the ladies

Words: 1,597

Characters: Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson

Rating: T

Warm flickers of flame from the candles created miniature light shows, while the popping noises from the bonfire created a peaceful atmosphere. It allowed the gang to have a calm evening, some of them were gathered at the table, but our attention is going to be next to the fire itself, where a couple of cowboys were sitting idly.

<<You want another drink?>>

Said Bill in a hoarse but playful tone, offering another one to Javier. Both their noses and cheeks were reddened by the effects of the tequila they were drinking.

<<O-of course, compadre!>>

Replied Javier, his tone of voice still cracking from laughing at a previous joke the two shared. Apparently… Bill thought that Charles, simply… Dressed terribly. Javier initially snickered at the fact that it was Bill Williamson, not exactly known for being well dressed himself, saying so about the hunter… But maybe the Mexican could lend the dark-skinned man some clothes and he wouldn't look too terrible as well.

As if it were foretold by fate… Or as they say, speak of the devil: Charles walked up to the bonfire, to then sit next to it, on a log. The mixed man had a plate of soup in his hands- apparently Pearson must've served dinner.

As Bill was pouring Javier another drink, the man currently wearing a sombrero turned to the hunter, who was idly minding his business, as usual. But the Mexican's inhibitions were partly gone due to the beverage he was drinking. So, as he sided towards Charles, Javier spilled some tequila on the ground due to the speed of the movement.

<<Hey! Don't waste it!>>

Bill's voice cracked, as if almost saddened by the waste. It did cost a lot, after all.

<<You know, the ladies said you'd be a catch if only you dressed a little better.>>

Javier said, with a small smirk drawn on his lips, implying subtly as a teasing joke to Bill that he was one of the “ladies”, due to reasons clearly unbeknownst to him. Bill didn't really seem to mind, either ignoring the joke or simply… Not understanding it.

<<Huh?>>

Replied Charles, barely looking up from his food.

<<I could dress you up a bit, see how you'd look with a more… Thought out, outfit.>>

Added Javier, his tone was genuine due to the fact that the thought of actually dressing the other up like a doll seemed kinda… Fun, unlike how it felt just a moment before when he was laughing at the idea.

Javier took a couple sips from the remaining tequila in his cup, and brought it quickly down on the log he was sitting on, with a thud.

<<What do you say, you in?>>

He then asked openly, leaning forward to the other a couple inches. Charles looked at the man in front of him, then the other behind him, catching a glimpse of him drinking… Once again, his gaze was on his food. He took another bite, to then slurp the remaining soup.

<<Sure. Why not.>>

Replied Charles, his tone of voice low and serious as usual- as if the situation needed his usual dire manners. And with that, the three got up and, as the two drunk ones in particular left a trail of little snickers behind them, they all got to where Javier slept. His stuff was neat and tidy, in contrast with most of the others’ things around there.

<<So, what are you thinking, Charles?>>

Javier asked, his voice modulated and fluctuating, almost rhythmic as if he were singing a song in his head and instinctively imitated its sound with his tone.

<<Nothing fancy.>>

Replied the hunter, his only wish being to not be ridiculed.

<<Oooh, but we wouldn't dream of that, now would we?>>

Said Bill, his voice was made more accentuated and a little dramatic by the alcohol in his veins.

<<Ugh.>>

This was Charles response- and with that, the Mexican began looking around his stuff, to then take out a white shirt, black pants and a blue jacket. Then, he lent them to Charles, with a playful and slightly mischievous grin drawn on his lips.

Charles’ expression was hardened, but it softened just a moment as the sight of a Javier that seemed just so… Excited, about something. Something that stupid, might he add. So, a light hint of a smile was drawn on Charles’ lips as he took the clothes in his hands.

_______________________________

<<¡Ayy! Soy estúpido, dìos mio.>>

Javier looked at the button on the ground. One of his best shirts, damaged because he didn’t think about the fact that Charles’ body type was… Different from his own.

And oh, he sure did notice that the buttons were having difficulty holding on, but he didn’t really mind the sight. And got distracted by… Definitely, nothing in particular. So, the thought of making him change back didn’t even cross his mind… And now, as Charles looked kind of embarrassed, Javier didn’t hold back the jacket he was keeping for the hunter, and on the contrary, he held it out for him to take.

<<With your chest out like that you’ll definitely attract alllll of the ladies.>>

The Mexican commented, somehow trying to lift up again the mood, but kind of in a clumsy way.

Charles’ lips curled for a moment in a small grimace of confusion, but his expression quickly turned back to his usual harsh one.

<<Are you sure? I may ruin this too.>>

The hunter said, his voice rough, referring to the jacket Javier was lending to him, ignoring his comment. The Mexican brought back the clothing attire for a moment, to look at Charles with a raised eyebrow. He then rolled his eyes and brought back up the jacket towards the mixed man.

<<Sì. Take it.>>

And with that, the hunter took the piece of clothing the other was lending him, to then put it on- only one arm, as he immediately felt that it was way too tight around his forearm.

Charles looked at this, then raised his sight back up to the Mexican as he heard Bill’s laughter in the background at that ridiculous sight of a giant man trying to wear smaller clothes. Charles groaned lightly, as Javier looked at that sight as well- but his expression wasn’t one of mockery as the bearded man’s, it was one of awe. The hunter had quite the defined muscles, which you could clearly see underneath the tight clothing.

<<Fuck this.>>

Said Charles, feeling mocked by the both of them. He took off the jacket and then the shirt, quickly putting back on his own blue one and walking away.

Javier looked at the mixed man as he did this, a disappointed look drawn on his face for a moment, then one of slight frustration. He looked at Bill, to then give him a slap on the back of his head.

<<¡Idìota!>>

Bill looked confused as Javier stormed off as well, walking up to Charles.

The hunter got to the side of the camp, looking at the trees, right behind Arthur’s tent. Javier got up to him, stumbling around due to the still lingering effects of the alcohol flowing in his veins.

<<Came to make a mockery out of me some more?>>

Said Charles, his arms crossed.

<<Just wanted to say that it's not exactly nice to leave that way without even saying bye. Loved the scene though, seemed like a teenage girl.>>

Replied Javier, his tone still mocking for some reason even though he literally went there to say sorry on behalf of Bill.

<<I’ll take that as a yes.>>

Said Charles, to then begin walking away again.

<<No, espera->>

The Mexican said, landing his hand on the other’s shoulder. He turned back around, looking at him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

<<I’m sorry for Bill’s behavior, Charles. But don’t mind him, he’s just an idiot, he doesn't mean any harm.>>

<<But you were mocking me too. I saw your little smile.>>

<<...Me?>>

Javier tilted his head slightly to the side, looking confused.

<<I didn’t and I wouldn’t->>

I mean, he would make fun of someone, but not Charles. Javier respected the hunter too much.

<<Yes you did. Don’t take me for an idiot. You thought I looked so ridiculous with your clothes that you became speechless.>>

<<I was just in… Awe, at… You have a great body, you know that?>>

Suddenly, Charles’ cheeks reddened but for a moment, drawing on his face a confused and surprised expression for the length of time of a flicker of the eye- easily missable.

<<Huh?>>

He couldn't say anything else. And because of that, Javier’s cheeks became red as well for a moment. The two of them could thank God that it was night and neither of them could see the other well.

<<We could… You know, go shopping instead. Buy some clothes that actually fit you, you know?>>

Said the Mexican, bringing together his hands for a moment out of nervousness, but hit them together instead of playing with them or anything of the sort.

The hunter moved his eyes around, looking for God knows what. Probably Bill, thinking that this might have been another way to make a fool out of him. But he didn't see him, and Javier seemed oh so genuine in his proposal. With a light grimace drawn on his face, Charles sighed, looking down for a moment, but quickly raised his sight back up at Javier.

<<...I’d like that.>>

Replied Charles, with a light smile finally drawn on his face.

#red dead redemption 2 #javier escuella #charles smith #bill williamson #chavier #Lilitkan's Fanfiction #My Art #IM SO HAPPY I LITERALLY ASKED FOR MEMES BUT MY FRIENDS IS SO WHOLESOME #Really hope y'all enjoyed it as I #i may publish it in ao3 too #in case i'll make a post to let you know ;)

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dutifullyscreechingdragon · 6 months ago

Text

Blitzø x human! Assassin! Reader

Blooming feelings

Summary: After the first few murder fiascos, you and Blitzø start catching feelings for each other. His attempts on your life morph into dates and you can't take each other as seriously as you should on the battle ground.

A/n: heyyy, I'm sorry for the slightly belated posting. The last few days have been a bit haywire for me... Anyways, I hope you enjoy the part two. Here you have the links to all the parts currently available:

Part 1: First encounter

Part 2: Blooming feelings -> you're here:)

The smoke bomb went off, you could hear the shattering of glass and the revving of the motorbike. Y/n was gone.

"And she's gone..." Blitzø stated and was about to leave through the portal, when Moxxie pulled his sleeve:

"Sir, there's a card on the floor"

Blitzo picked it up, it was a note. In a neat handwriting the following was written:

Despite being sent to kill me

(and failing miserably),

you're chill

Call me:)

314 159 2653

Blitzø texted you this very evening. He wanted to do this instantly, but had to withhold himself - gotta preserve the reputation

You were getting ready to bed, today was a long day, right after the pleasant encounter with Blitzø, you had to rush off to deal with a murderer and then get your bike into repair. Oh and you also had to buy yourself new cargo pants, your current ones were getting a wee bit to bloodstained for your liking.

Today was a busy day. So only now, about to go to sleep, did you have time to actualy process what happened in the morning. That being you giving the attractive imp(?) your phone number... And, since he still didn't call or text you, you were staring to have second thoughts... Have you read too much into the whole thing? Was it strictly professional for him?

That's when your phone went off

Unknown: whadup, gurl

Cut the guy some slack, he was low-key nervous and was trying to come off as suave

Y/n: Blitzø?

Unknown: ya, who else wuld be txting u

Y/n: should I take offence?

Unknown: idk, do u find that offensive

Y/n: kinda?

Unknown: soz, I'll show u a picture of a horse I drew and you'll forgive me

Unknown: deal?

to be fair, Blitzø didn't know what he was writing. He had no intention of offending you and panicked, texting you the first thing that came into his mind. Thankfully, you found it amusing and texted him back:

Y/m: deal:)

He sent you a picture of a horse. You though it was really good, so that's what you texted him back. He was ecstatic and instantly sent you a few more.

Needless to say, that soon enough your gallery was filled with various drawings of horses.

In the span of the next week, you and Blitzø texted quite a lot.

He offered you a job at the IMP pretty early on:

Blitzø: ya know, when u end up in hell, a gal like you culd work for me

Y/n: why are you so sure I'd wanna work for you?

Blitzø: why wouldnt u?

Y/n: idk u trying to kill me is kind of a turn off...

Blitzø: ahhh come oooon it's not that big of a deal

Blitzø: ill take u horse riding or smth

Y/n: can't say no to that hahaha

After that reply, Blitzø got so hyped up, he literally ran out of his office and shouted:

"Fuck yeah she loves me back, ya hear that Mox," Blitz looked very much proud as he showed his employee the text chain

"Uhhh Sir, I wouldn't make such quick assumptions-"

"Shhh don't ruin the moment" Blitzo retorted pressing his finger into Moxxie's lips to silence him.

Sometimes you'd get a notification in the middle of a job and it'd be Blitzø sending you a selfie of him ( and sometimes some of his friends as well) in the middle of a fight with a caption like:

"another normal day at work (nearly got killed)"

"brunch went wrong"

Or plainly

"how u doing? "

And sometimes you'd reply with a selfie of yourself, creeping up to some guy you're about to murder. Which would cause Blitzø to text you:

Blitzø: update?

And you sending him a picture of you, potentially covered in blood, standing over a dead body.

At this point, he wasn't shying away from nicknames. He'd call you babe, sweetcheeks and sunshine.

You'd usually settle fro something along the lines of hot stuff, pretty boy, love

However, Blitzø does a lot of stupid stuff, which is when idiot, dumbass, etc. come in use

"How ya doing, hot stuff", you'd say, winking at Blitzø, causing him to try and lean on a non-existent doorframe and ultimately topple to the ground, sending you (and Millie, who witnessed it) a fit of giggles.

You and Blitzø's murderous rendezvous start to become more.. date-like. There is a lot of flirting and very little shooting done.

Sometimes you wonder, whether you guys should just drop the pretences

Moxxie and Loona are steadily growing sick of all of this. Millie finds it quite endearing, actualy.

You were presently engaged in a hand to hand combat with Blitzø. You performed a serie of punches, trying hard not to hit any super vital points. This sent your oponent tumbling on the ground.

"Youuu do punch Hella hard, babe," Blitzø drawled out "that's Hella hot "

You chuckled at this and threw him an ice pack with the words:

"Take that, wouldn't want to cause permanent damage to that pretty face of yours"

Blitzø would never admit it, but that made him blush very much, which would've been very much visible if it wasn't for his red skin (the blush was still fairly visible, just less intense).

or another time:

With one swift movement Blitzø tackled you to the ground. He smirked:

"Ya know, I could get used to this view, babe" he started nonchalantly "maybe different setting, like a bedroom" he smirked at your startled reaction "though if you prefer this place, babe, then I guess why not? I'm not picky " he continued his flirting.

You look up at him deviously, buckling your hips forward and in one movement flipping you both, positioning you on top:

"I think this is way better" you smirk at him triumphantly

"Whatever you say babe. Whatever gets us to fuck"

You didn't expect him to be THAT straightforward (honestly, that one is on you, having known him for quite some time you should've seen that coming), deep red blush cowered your cheeks. You were rescued by Loona's groan and frustrated shouting:

"Get a room! Stop defiling the fucking pavement"

The closer you grew together the more comfortable would Blitzø feel with invading your private space. He would sometimes launch "surprise attacks" on you (the reason was that "he missed you very much"):

It was the middle of the night, when you groggily opened your eyes to see Blitzø mere centimetres away from your face:

"Whatcha dreaming about?" He asked. You were about to shriek, but caught yourself in time. Meanwhile, Blitzø continued "Wake up, Im here to kill ya" his voice was far too giddy.

You were very tired. Exhausted.

"Mmmm, go to sleep, Blitzie," you pushed him lightly off you and onto the bed, wrapping your arm around him, "kill me tomorrow"

In retrospect, this wasn't very professional, but Blitzø didn't seem to mind...and judging from the soft purring in the morning, he even enjoyed it.

At this point, you're very accustomed to each other's habits. You also have a set date and time for the Blitzø's murder attempts:

You were anxiously pacing the street. It was a nice Tuesday morning. 9.15 am precisely and it has been 15 minutes since Blitzø was supposed to attack. He always showed up on time. To your murderous rendezvous.

You were about to pick up your phone and dial him, demanding an explanation (you were worried sick: What if the imp died on one of his jobs?), when he showed up, out of breath (clearly had been running) and with two coffee's in tow.

"Hey babes, d'ya miss me?" He said in his suave voice.

"You're late to your weekly murder attempt on my life" You said in a flat voice.

"Ahhh soz, there was a fucking line ot the coffee shop" he replied nonchalantly

"and the fact that you argued with the employee for ten straight minutes because they couldn't get Y/n's order right and then misspelled her name didn't do much to help" Moxxie muttered under his breath, but of course everyone heard him.

"Come on, Mox, don't embarrass Boss in front of the girl" Millie said and winked at you.

"Anyway," Blitzø said stretching out the first syllable, "I got your coffee. Just how you like" he looked at you with pride, as if he had to fight a glorious battle for it (he sort of did)

"Awwww thanks, love, that's so sweet" you smile and give him a soft peck on the cheek. You take a sip of your coffee, its delicious, just how you like it.

Once you're done drinking your coffee and are fairly caught up with the drama that you didn't manage to cover in your texts and calls, Blitzø commands:

"Now, M&M get into your positions. We're way behind schedule!"

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this chapter and have a great day (or night) <3

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago

Note

There has been a lot of tang comforting us requests, including mine (which made me feel sm better ty ♡), but how about we comfort him instead? I believe you wrote something like this? Just thinking avout about doing the classic "I know a place" and bringing him into our arms :)

hii!! these are my favourite omg!!? I love it. thank you for requesting, hope you like it�� he deserves all the love :((

link for tan reverse comfort -> distance (quickly read this back after writing this and it’s kinda similar lol, didn’t even realise the connections even though it was so long ago)

—

STAY

tangerine x female reader

word count: 473

warnings: none just fluff. reverse comfort

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

Tangerine is a guy of very few words- a man who keeps his thoughts private and quiet. Detecting his feelings is hard for those with an untrained eye, but not you. Sometimes, you knew him better than he knew himself, so when you see him get in one of those moods, you know what's about to happen before it does.

Tan came home slightly more worn down than usual- it wasn't uncommon for him to be like this when returning home from work, but this time was different.

You picked up on little things, how he diverted from your gaze or how he went straight upstairs to shower. Those tiny details telling you he was feeling more run-down than usual.

All you want is to hug and kiss him- to tell him how much you missed him, but he needed time, so you gave him exactly that. While he was in the bathroom, you laid out some lounge clothes for him, folding a neat pile of grey sweats with a pink post-it beside saying, 'take your time, I'll be downstairs when you're ready,' finishing the note with a small love heart.

You sat patiently on the couch, your legs nervously bouncing as you awaited his arrival. You wanted the room to be cosy, so you closed the blinds, allowing slats of the moonlit sky to creep through, plugging in a few small lamps to add to the warmth. On the coffee table sat a cup of tea -to his liking- and a few packs of his most favoured biscuits, hoping to coax him into sharing his thoughts. Again, you didn't want to rush him- just wanting to ease him into it.

After a little while, you hear the creaking sound of the stairs and sit up straight, focusing on the living room door with a soft, saddened smile on your face.

"Hey," you warmly greet, watching him slowly trudge over to you. "Come here." You softly instruct, opening your arms.

Tangerine makes his way over to the couch, dropping beside you before adjusting, scootching down and resting his head on your lap.

The view of him acting so vulnerable was enough to crumble your heart, so you kiss two of your fingertips and lightly trace them over his temple, guiding them over his brow before settling on his cheek.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, raking through his hair with your fingers, brushing the soft curls away from his face. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," he whispers back, closing his eyes. "Just let me stay like this for a bit?"

"Of course," you reply, flattening a blanket over him. "For as long as you need."

He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, holding it close as he thumbs over your skin- silently thanking you for being so good to him.

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

tan taglist: @tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @angel-of-new-orleans @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossom @landryslove @daenerys-supremacy @dontknownameauthor @honestly-who-even-is-this @simplyreflected

#request #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #soft tangerine #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine fluff #tangerine comfort #tangerine fic

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lazyneonrabbitt · 9 months ago

Text

Found

Daryl Dixon & adopted daughter

Request: Heyya, so Ive been reading some of your fixs and idk if your inbox is open rn, but if you can can ypu make one with were daryl? Like where he finds a lost child (who didnt know shes a werewolf too) and kinda raises her? If not that is fineee :)

With winter approaching fast the group had set out to a large store lot further off, knowing there was a bed store somewhere on that lot and they needed to stock up on anything they came across.

Except when listing 'anything', none of them had 'a child' in mind.

When the group raided the supply area, Daryl had set out to the front and rummage around only to find empty cans.

At least one empy can that wasn't even a day old, seeing the remains hadn't dried out yet. He quickly hid and took in his surroundings better.

There was only one bed clearly in use. Others had stuff thrown on them or were still too neat and all dusty, but still he was wary.

Rustling further down the store caught his attention so he stalked towards it, quickly catching the source of the noise which turned out to be.. a child?

"The hell?" He kept the young girl at arm's length and gave her a once over. All her clothes were torn and hanging loosely over her worn out, hollow frame. "Where's yer group?" He got only a sad scoff in return. "Nowhere."

He gave her another good look, sneaking in some sniffs to see if she was sick and left behind because of it, but he found none of that.

Just a faint whiff of wolf. It was barely there so he didn't think it came from her, maybe she stole the clothes from someone who happened to be a werewolf.

"C'mon. If yer alone I'm takin' ya home, we got a big place ta live in." He watched the kid calm down at the end of his outstretched arms, already out of his grip and nodding. "Please, being alone is scary.."

"Name's Daryl. You?" He held out his hand to shake, taking his time with her.

"Sarah."

Daryl had asked her all kinds of questions as he was given a tour of the store. "How long habe ya been here?" He wondered with how difficult it was for a single child to survive longer periods in this world. "Just a few days. Wait!" She stopped before turning to face her new friend. "Do you have electricity? Batteries?" Daryl nodded in return. "Yeah we got solar panels, why?" But he didn't get an answer, instead she swayed and disappeared around a corner. Daryl stalked after her, cursing her out for disappearing without a warning until he saw where she headed. In a far corner she had grabbed an abandoned cart and was stacking boxes in it. "Whatcha got, kid?"

She didn't reply, just waved him over as she kept piling the cart full of..

Electric blankets. Between the two corner shelves there was a stack of them, extras for easy access when restocking. "Ya just earned yer place at home. I'm fightin' anyone who disagrees." His comment earned him a laugh and a soft thanks. She didn't know why she felt so comfortable around the old man, he was a stranger which should have her wary but instead there was a strange familiar feeling that had her stay close.

After grabbing any and all usefull items from the front of the store they made their way back to the back, both with a cart piled high.

Daryl went first to announce his findings. Which included a new party member that made herself known by slowly appearing from behind the two carts of items.

She hid behind Daryl and peeked at the people, introducing herself after some light persuasion but the attention on her quickly faded with all the items they brought back.

On the way home she shared thebcar with Aaron. They sort of chatted about all kinds of light subjects, but she'd constantly be focussed on Daryl who rode his bike up front all the way to the gates of Alexandria.

Once home Daryl was dismissed to go take his new friend to the infirmary to get a quick checkup and get settled. Denise let her go with the instructions to eat well and she would be good, so Daryl took her to his place to raid Carol's meal prep and let her stuff her face with as much as she wanted.

After finding Carol and doing some intruductions Daryl took her back home to clean up while Carol went to pick up some new clothes and toiletries for her.

"Oh man!" Daryl caught her voice from the other end of the hallway. "I missed hot water! I love this place!" He laughed as he continued clearing the spare room that was now more of a storage of random possibly useful items.

Meanwhile Carol had dropped by and left a fresh set of clothes at the bathroom door and brought the rest over and put it all in the cabinet and helped finish making the bed.

Aa they were finishing up the bathroom door opened and a waft of moist, warm air flowed onto the rest of the floor.

"I wanted to stay in there forever." She quickly went quiet again when she saw Carol, new people were still a bit scary.

"Saw you enjoyed the food I cooked." Carol tried some small talk, and small it stayed while Daryl let her explore the house some more.

That night after Sarah went to bed Daryl went to find his best friend and have a talk.

"I think I brought home a wolf cub." The sentence was an easy one, no misinterpetations possible but still Carol looked at him like he had three heads. "Sarah, I'on think she knows but it explains why she's stickin' to me like tha'."

"I think it's best to wait for her to mention it. If you can sense her, then she should sense you too, or something."

Daryl huffed a laugh at her attempt at logic, but she was right. He would wait it out and hear from her when she was ready to share.

Except weeks passed and she never did. Sarah's wolf scent did get way less subtle over time but still hadn't mentioned it.

Until Daryl had enough one evening when they both sat in the living room, her with a book and him carving new bolts.

"What's up witcha? Ain't feelin' well?" He didn't even look up from his work when he asked, sensing full well what was wrong with her. Daryl kept the curtains drawn, but with them not being fitted there was always a little peek of moonlight coming through. Right where Carol usually sat with a book, using the light to read just like Sarah was right now.

"Come on outta that chair, girl. Sit here." If any other man would have told her that she would have ran, but she listened to Daryl.

But with the first movement of her leg she winced in pain, book dropping to the ground and her doubling over in pain. Daryl was up in a second, his work discarted on the couch as he moved the curtains so there was a larger illuminated spot on the floor. He couldn't take her outside where people would watch, and the bedrooms all had windows on the other side of the house so this was his best option.

"Alright kid I know this is gon' sound insane, but ya gotta stop fightin' the pain." And oh he hated him for those next words. "Ya also need ta lose the jeans. Tight shirt too." He finally got a look of disgust at his crazy words, but something in her mind told her to listen. Daryl somehow knew what her pain meant and he'd help. He'd be there.

"Y..heah. Blanket?" Oh. Right. Daryl moved to grab her a blanket to crawl underneath and worm out of her clothes.

"Daryl.." she spoke through winces of pain. "Why's there a voice?" She got a soft smile in response, not knowing exactly how to explain it in words and thus deciding to show her.

"M'gonna show ya wha's happenin' to ya. Jus' keep yer eyes on mine, yeah. M'gonna have ta get outta these tho." He pulled at the hem of his hoodie and tied it loosely around his hips before sliding his sweats down and off. His shirt went last before he kneeled and let the change he had been fighting ever since he stepped into the moonlight finally take over.

Sarah stared at his eyes like daryl instructed and watched them shine bright blue. And then he opened his mouth as she watched fangs appear. His ears pointed and his face changed.

His entire body looked like it-- no, it was bulking out. And fur sprouted over his skin and.. That's a tail.

"Holy shit.." Enthralled by the other's form changing into that of a beast she had barely felt her own starting to change. When she looked back at her hands there were claws where her fingernails were, and her tongue grazed past sharp teeth.

Daryl stared at her as she took deep breaths, trying to ignore the sudden spike of pain as her bones started to shift.

He reached a paw to rest on her shouder, softly squeezing the muscles as he spoke.

"Ya got this. It hurts like a bitch the first few times. M'sorry." He prayed she understood him and didn't just hear grumbles. With a saddened look she carefully crawled from underneath her blanket to curl up against Daryl's fur. He held her close as she cried, feeling her bones crack and heal, her muscles snap underneath steadily furring over skin. Her face was pressed in the bend of his arm where he felt her snout portrude against his skin, now wet with drool and tears.

Only when she stilled did Daryl pull away to look over her, checking if she properly shifted and softly kneaded at some muscles in hopes she'd respond well.

"Hurts.." She whined as her paw came up to swat away his, but failing as it stopped right in her view.

Daryl let her go entirely and stepped back, looking at her wobbly frame. "Ya look like a baby deer with yer shaky skinny legs."

Daryl laughed at her grumbles as she stood on all fours, padding around in place to get to know her limbs. "So weird.." she spoke as she stared at her hind legs and wiggled her toes. "So, werewolf?" She knew about monsters, what kid didn't at her age? She watched Daryl nod and stand up on his hind legs, motioning for her to try the same.

He watched her think as she slowly rose to her full height, which wasn't that much more than before. "How'r ya feelin?"

He didn't know anything about first time shifting for younger wolves. He never had someone teach him but his instincts luckily helped him take care of the pup he took under his wing. He saw her skinny frame and his only thought was to go hunt a deer and let her chow down. But he knew he couldn't take her out tonight. Their best option was to rest and let her get used to her new body.

"Feeling okay I guess. My legs are weird." She hobbled around, almost losing balance with every step and laughing at her wacky movement. At least she seemed to be having fun instead of cowering away and adapted really quick. He could only guess she was a lateblooming born wolf. His early shifting never went as smooth as hers and he surely wasn't up and bouncing on his feet fhe first moon.

"Ya look good, fer a scrawny lil' pup." She felt proud when he comlimented her in his own, dismissive way and couldn't help but grin, baring her teeth at him in glee.

"My head's no longer weird to me. Like we're friends now." Her paw went up to tap at her head, stopping as she poked her ear instead and took a moment to feel around at their new place on top of her head. Feeling her ears she seemed to think of her tail too, furning to look at it and making at least three full circles before realizing she was chasing her own tail and stopping instantly, looking up with an embarrassed look. "Don't tell anyone I just did that." Daryl sputtered as he tried not to laugh but failed as he rolled over in laughter. "Yer too cute, pup."

She faked hurt and plopped down onto the floor next to him, stretching her muscles with a long yawn and slumping against the hardwood floor.

"M'tired." She mumbled against her arm. "Can I sleep here on the floor?"

"Nah." She rolled and leaned on her elbow to look at her mentor. "Yer sleepin' in a bed. Can't have ya nude on the floor when ya shifted back." She sighed in defeat, not wanting to get up anymore, but Daryl made a good point so reluctantly she sat up and tried to get back on her feet as swiftly as possible without stumbling.

"Well, goodnight then." She turned to head upstairs but didn't make it two steps before being grabbed by the tail. "Yer not sleepin' alone either. Downstairs with me." He had sat up as well by now and easily stood up. Sarah stidied all of his movements and compared his hunched over stance with her more straight posture. "Ya know ya can think out loud, yeah? Ask away."

It was cute how he could feel the buzzing energy coming off her and wasn't surprised in the slightest she got tired so quickly. First time shifts are tiring, and all these new senses and strange proportions took quite something to get used to but she was adapting really well.

"Does it hurt when you turn? You look so.. heavy."

Heavy huh. He did bulk out way more than her, who still looked like a stick on legs.

"Only on full moons. Cuz it makes me turn. When I decide to I's all good." He went down the stairs first so when she'd trip over her own feet he'd be able to catch her, but she made it without falling.

She was doing so much better than him at that age.

His couch was big enough for her to snuggle up in the empty spot between Daryl and the back rest. It was so nice and warm against his form she fell asleep quickly, Daryl only allowing himself to sleep once he knew she had drifted off completely.

He carefully draped a blanket over her form so she'd be covered once she'd be turned back by morning while he kept his shifted form.

Next morning came fast with both of them sleeping so deep it barely felt like an hour had passed when they woke up.

Daryl had moved off the couch already, grabbing some clothes and heading out of her vision to change back and get dressed before going to her room to grab her clean clothes while she got some time to properly wake up.

Once dressed they shared breakfast and went over Sarah's experience from last night. From the feel of shifting to the intensity of her new senses, they discussed it all.

They also planned to stay outside overnight.

After spending their day as normal as possible they went out to the edge of the woods where Daryl knew he could protect her and maybe could catch food as well.

"Yer feelin' good about bein' out here?" They walked past the treeline far enough so the guards wouldn'f see them anymore.

"Yeah. It feels nice here. Makes my head howl. Does that make sense?" She felt like she asked way too much, no matter how often Daryl had told her over the day it was good of her to ask that much.

"Yeah, s'good yer head howls. Says ya got a good bond with yer wolf side."

The sun would set soon, so they killed some time with another fun outdoor activity.

Strength training.

Daryl decided to have her see how much stronger she was now that she had fully developed her lucantrophy. And also, he was curious and wanted Sarah to amaze herself some more with her new abilities.

"Try 'n lift tha' one." Daryl pointed at the broken off, fallen tree trunk to which Sarah just shook her head. "You're insane. No way I can lift that."

She got a look of disappointment before she huffed and padded over to the tree. With both her feet planted onto the forest floor she chaneled all of her strength into lifting the giant log. While lifting it wasn't entirely happening, she did manage to dislodge it from the ground it had gotten stuck into and moved off to the side a foot or two. It mostly rolled, but it was impressive she even got it to move at all. They did some more breaking of branches and practiced some basic fighting in case she'd be alone against people and she proved quickly that no human could easily capture her.

She was a natural out here. Daryl was almost jealous of how quickly she channeled her feral side.

"Are you feeling all jittery too?" Sarah hopped around Daryl, shivering despite the evening warmth.

"S'yer wolf sayin' s'time ta change." Daryl nodded up at the sky. "Find the moon, say sonethin' nice to 'er and let it wash over ya."

He got a confused look, what did he mean with 'saying something nice'?

Weird old man talk.. But she did it anyways and this time her shift hurt less. Something about being nice to people if you want them to be nice to you or something.

Daryl shifted along with her and once they were both fully turned they ran.

Daryl took easy paths and avoided higher shrubbery she could get her legs stuck in and they ran.

All the way down to the river, where Daryl showed her how to fish and then back, stalking a bird on the ground and took a squirrel out of a tree.

Sarah admired his hunting skills and quickly begged for lessons that he agreed to without a second thought.

People already were convinced Daryl had adopted her, but he felt like he now truly did.

He never felt like he'd have a pack of his own, he wasn't enough of a wolf for it.

But then Sarah showed up.

And now that he thought of it, Carol.

Michonne, Jude, Aaron.

His family was his pack, and Sarah helped him finally realise that.

A/N: I hope this is what you had in mind! I disn't want to write it as a reader insert as I pictured the girl as being in her teens.

#sometimes i write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #twd #the walking dead #twd au #werewolves #werewolf

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a-killer-obsession · 6 months ago

Text

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 22 - Date Night

Making port ahead of schedule leads to an impromptu date. Also, reader lore.

WC: ~3.5k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055

After fleeing from breakfast you'd decided to head back to bed for a nap, given you really hadn't had a lot of sleep, and as comfy as Kid's thighs were for sleeping on, your neck was killing you from doing it. Thankfully you were able to fall asleep on your own, maybe the trick to getting some sleep this whole time had just been resolving things with Killer. Heat woke you for lunch, and afterwards he'd given you a reading lesson. Killer wasn't available to join, after a week of isolating himself he had a lot of work to catch up on.

He did find some time to see you after dinner though, knocking shyly on your partially open door before peering awkwardly around it. He found you in the middle of squinting at a children's book, mouthing the sounds to yourself as you traced the words with your fingertip.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” He asked, backing out a little.

“No of course not, come in,” you smiled, quickly discarding the book, “besides, I promised you cuddles”

He nervously shut the door behind him before removing his mask and sitting it on the side table next to yours. He'd become accustomed to being maskless around you, especially when your own mask was off. Having your whole face available for him to see made him more willing to show his own, and your time together on the island had made him truly comfortable with you seeing his face. You shuffled back on the bed and made space for him between your legs, and he laid down with his back towards you, his head resting against your breasts. You quickly got to work threading your fingers into his hair and scratching his scalp the way you'd learned he liked on the island. He hummed contently as you did it, his eyes closing as he enjoyed your hands on him. If he tried hard enough, he could almost pretend you were both still on the island, not a care in the world, before any of the hurt had a chance to happen.

“This is nice,” you sighed after a while, draping your arms over his shoulders and resting your chin on the top of his head.

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, “Hey I remembered something earlier though, did you ever read that letter from your mum?”

“Oh!” You reached towards your side table and he leaned forward for a moment so you could reach it. You retrieved the old, worn envelope from the drawer and returned to your previous spot as you handed it to him. “I could probably at least attempt to read it now, but I'd really like it if you did it for me”

“You sure? You don't want Heat to read it for you?” He asked hesitantly.

“I kinda only want you to know about it,” you hummed, resting your chin on his head again, ��it kinda feels like our thing”

“Okay, if you're sure,” he replied, carefully threading his finger under the wax seal on the envelope to pop it away from the paper. He flipped up the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper, a little wrinkled but clean from years of being protected inside the envelope. On it was a handwritten letter, in neat cursive. You were glad you'd asked Killer to read it, cursive was still really difficult for you to decipher. Killer unfolded the letter and cleared his throat before starting to read.

“April 22nd, Our Age of the Sea Circle 1517.

My dearest [y/n],

On this, your sixteenth birthday, I am thankful and blessed to hear that you are alive and well.”

You gripped his shoulder hard, shaking a little as you heard your own name spoken for the first time in over twenty years, a thread of memories flooding back to you. You could see your mother in the garden, hanging out the laundry on a sunny morning, her lilac hair fluttering in the soft spring winds. You were so small, so innocent, you could hear your own laughter in the memory as you ran to her and clinged to her leg.

“I remember…” you whispered, “that name, I remember her calling to me…”

Killer reached up to hold your hand against his shoulder, squeezing it for support as your tears started to fall quietly. “It's dated to 1517, that means you're 27, not 25 like we thought. You're the same age as me”

“Oh,” you said sadly, “that means I was locked up a lot longer than I thought”

“Oh Yin,” Killer said softly, “I'm so sorry. You're safe now, okay? It's all over, nobody can take you again without us burning them to the ground, we're always gonna come for you”

“Mmm,” you replied, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

“Do you want me to start calling you [y/n] instead?” He asked.

“Only when it's just the two of us,” you hummed, “I don't think I'm ready to share it with everyone yet”

“Okay then, I won't tell anyone,” he gave your hand a little squeeze, “do you want me to keep reading?”

“Yes please,” you replied after taking a deep breath. Killer kept one hand on yours on his shoulder but kept reading.

“I think of you everyday, oh how you must have grown by now. The marines tell me you are one of them now, and that your devil fruit no longer ails you. I am so glad, how proud I am of my girl for doing such good in the world.

Do not mourn for me my sweet [y/n], I am still a slave, but I was bought by such a kind family to care for their child. I've been with them these whole long ten years, raising her like my own, a sister you never had, and she will soon be an adult. When the time comes, her parents have agreed to free me, so perhaps we will meet again. You were such a beautiful, joy filled child, I hope one day you will experience such joy yourself.

I hope you are surrounded by love, wherever you are, and know that you have mine, wherever I am. Until that day comes where we meet again, I'll continue to think of you every day.

Your loving mother,

Val Sara”

“So strange,” you said after a long quiet moment of thinking, “I never knew my mother's name. She was always just ‘mum’”

“Well, that's more than I ever knew,” Killer hummed, “and she's out there somewhere, free, by the sounds of it”

“Mmm”

“Do you think you'll ever go looking for her?” He asked.

“I don't think she'd like the person I am now,” you sighed, “I fit in better with murderous pirates than I do with a sweet old lady, I think it's better she not know. And my wanted poster doesn't have my real name, so hopefully she'll never know.”

“Mmm,” Killer agreed, tucking the paper back into the envelope. He turned to his side to put it back on the side table but decided to stay where he was afterwards, laying with his face pressed to your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“You ever try to find your parents?” You asked him as you returned to scratching his scalp.

“Nah, waste of time,” he replied, his eyes closed in content, “Kid and I have pretty common stories for kids from our island. It was known for gangs and crime, the criminal underworld pretty much ran the place. We don't know the specifics, but given what was normal for the island we can safely assume that they were either prostitutes or were forced, and either way had a kid they didn't want. I ran away when I was seven, I can't even remember her face anymore, just that she had brown hair. She barely took care of me anyway and I was beaten a lot by the men that would come by for her, so one day I just left. I found Kid not long after, he was in a similar boat but it was his mum who ditched him. He was only three, he would have died on his own, so I did my best to look after him.”

“Only three? Jesus,” you said softly, “no wonder Kid has anger issues. Fuck that bitch, and fuck your mum for not protecting you. Slag”

Killer laughed at the out of character insult, “It doesn't matter, Kid is everything to me, I wouldn't go back and change anything. If I hadn't run away I wouldn't have found him.”

“And you,” you poked his arm, “wouldn't have found me”

“That would've been truly awful,” he snorted, “who else would leave invisible whoopie cushions on my chair?”

“Kid made me do it!” You yelped as he pinched you playfully, “It was captain's orders!”

“Like you didn't also think it was funny,” he scowled.

“Okay… maybe a little,” you admitted.

“Mmhmm,” he nestled back into your chest and yawned.

“Do you want to stay here tonight Killer?” You asked, his yawn becoming contagious and making you yawn as well.

“I better not,” he frowned, starting to get up, “I wanna go have a shower anyway, I'll see you at breakfast”

“Okay Kil,” you gave him a peck on the cheek before stretching and getting ready to tuck yourself in, “night”

“Night, [y/n],” he said, putting his mask back on and sliding out the door.

The next day at lunch, Double announced that the wind's were in the ship's favour, and it'd be arriving at the resupply island before sunset. A plan was set in place that tonight would be for entertainment, and tomorrow would be for resupplying. The log pose reset time was inconsequential, since they planned on returning to this island for the reset after visiting the eternal pose island, so for now it was just a quick in and out. The ship was due to leave by lunch tomorrow to set off for what the crew had started referring to as ‘treasure island’. Really not much resupplying was needed, since it hadn't been long since the ship had been docked for three days while you were unconscious (the first two days of your coma having been during transit).

The commanders would also be skipping getting an inn this time round, since the turnaround was so short there wasn't much point, though the henchmen who wanted to have some privacy for the evening would no doubt get rooms. That being said, the higher ups still intended to head to a local brothel when the ship made port. You had no intention of joining them this time, so you'd made plans to see what other entertainment the town had. Maybe it would have a cinema, you hadn't seen a movie since you were a teenager.

“Any plans for tonight?” Killer asked as he climbed up to sit beside you on the figurehead skull.

“I was thinking about seeing a movie, actually,” you hummed, “if the town has a cinema”

“Usually islands with longer reset times have decent entertainment,” he replied, “it's supposed to take five days when we get back from treasure island”

“Oh, nice” you replied, “what about you? I won't fault you if you go with the others. I know we said we were waiting for each other but I don't want you getting blue balls”

Killer snorted at the comment, “Thanks for considering my balls but I think they'll be just fine,” now you were the one snorting, “I was thinking of just finding a nice restaurant, I was going to ask if you wanted to join me actually. We could see a movie after, if you'd like”

“Mister Massacre Soldier, are you asking me on a date?” You squinted.

“Uh, I think so? Maybe?” He said nervously.

“Well in that case, yeah I'd like that,” you replied, “I'll meet you when we dock,” you said cheerfully as you started to climb off the skull.

“Where you going?” He asked curiously.

“Gotta get ready for my big date!” You laughed, skipping away.

To be fair, it was the truth. You spent the next two hours showering, shaving, struggling with makeup, and throwing every piece of clothing you owned onto a pile on the bed in the hopes of figuring out what to wear. The island was a spring one, so that opened up a lot of options since you wouldn't have to dress to stay warm. The night air outside would probably be a little cool but your jacket would probably be enough. You'd also made the decision to forgo your mask, which meant you had to figure out how to do eye makeup. That on its own took a good half an hour.

In the end you settled on a dark purple, thigh length dress that showed off your legs. The neckline was modest and the dress had one sleeve, which conveniently covered the arm where your marine tattoo used to sit, now covered by a well healed burn scar. The dress was made from velvet, so it appeared almost black at first glance, a brighter purple where the light bounced off it. You paired it with a set of strappy black heels and a couple of silver bracelets that blended well with your seastone one. You kept your hair down for once, a rarity since it was easier to wear your mask with your hair tied back in your usual buns.

To finish it all of you had a small purse the saleswoman who sold you the dress had convinced you to buy. You didn't really have anything to put in it, so you just jammed a bag of candy inside to sneak into the cinema later. The purse itself was a simple dark purple circle made with a leather that had lines sewn to give a padded quilt effect, with a delicate silver chain.

The ship had docked maybe ten minutes ago, you'd heard the loud sound of the thick anchor chain unravelling as it was dropped and the flurry of barked orders as the ship was tied to the dock, so you gave yourself two thumbs up in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed out to the deck. Kid spotted you quickly, his sentence cut short so he could wolf whistle, to which Killer smacked him over the back of the head.

“Have some fucking respect Kid,” he groaned. Killer was dressed nicely as well, in dark tidy jeans and a royal blue button up. You were glad you hadn't overdressed, it would have been a little awkward if he hadn't even changed, but he did say he wanted to find a nice restaurant.

“You two going on a date or something?” Kid eyed you both scrupulously, “what's with the clown suits?”

“Sorry you're allergic to nice clothes Kid, that must be hard,” you stuck your tongue out at him, and he frowned and crossed his arms.

“Whatever, use protection,” he groaned before heading off to bark more orders.

“Protection from what?” You asked Killer, “I thought we were going to dinner, should I go get my sword?”

“We are going to dinner, he was just joking,” Killer sighed, “he meant protection as in like… condoms”

“Ohhhh,” you replied, then stopped dead in your tracks, grabbing his arm, “were we supposed to use that on the island?”

“Don't fret,” he pat your hand and took advantage of it being on his arm to lead you, “I talked to Mohawk when we got back, he said the thing in your arm should be good for another year”

“Okay, phew,” you half heartedly laughed, “cos boy that would be awkward. Not that I would hate having your baby it just would be awkward on a ship”

“Oh? You want my babies do you?” He teased.

“Kil!” You pouted.

“Relax, I'm just teasing,” he rubbed your hand on his arm reassuringly, “let's get some dinner”

The two of you wandered along the waterfront for a short while before finding a nice looking restaurant, filled with happy, well dressed couples. You wondered if the two of you would look the same among them, or if you'd stick out. He led you to the little podium where a hostess was waiting to greet you.

“Any private spaces available?” He asked her, flashing a large wad of berri.

“Yes of course sir!” She replied enthusiastically, “We have a delightful private dining room perfect for a party of two, come right this way” she indicated for the two of you to follow and you continued to allow Killer to lead you. The space she brought the two of you was a closed off room, decorated in dark jewel tones and lit with several large candelabras, it was definitely a romantic atmosphere. She pulled a chair out for you and as you sat placed a napkin over your lap and a menu in your hands, then did the same for Killer.

“My name is Leah, I'll be your server for this evening. Our special tonight is freshly caught salmon, honey-glazed over a bed of seasonal asparagus, and our desert special for this evening is a warm spiced pear served with house-made chocolate gelato. Can I get you anything to drink while you look over the menu?”

The question was mostly directed at Killer, who seemed a lot more confident in this setting than you did. “Two glasses of whatever red you recommend please. Will you be the hostess serving us the entire evening, or will you have someone else bringing us our food?”

“I can be if that is what you would prefer sir,” the hostess replied.

“Good, I require privacy, as you can see,” he gestured to his mask, “so you are to knock and wait fifteen seconds whenever you're entering, and you're not to enter unnecessarily, we don't need to be badgered every five minutes about how the food is”

“Of course sir. You'll also find there are no surveillance den-den in this room, it's usually reserved for client meetings, so your privacy is very well protected in this room,” she indicated around the room, before walking over to a wall that had a small, silver button. “You can use this button to summon me if you require anything, I'll go get those drinks for you now but do not hesitate to call if you require anything at all”

“Thank you, Leah,” he cleared his throat and she gave a little curtsy and left.

“Is this okay?” Killer asked hesitantly, “it's not too much is it? I didn't have time to scout anything out beforehand”

“This is nice, Kil,” you smiled, leaning your elbow on the table and resting your chin in your hand, “and I'm glad to be able to have a meal with you without your mask. Or Kid, for that matter”

Killer took his mask off and gave you a shy smile. You could see his lips were freshly painted and he'd taken special care to apply eyeliner. It was always funny to you that he and Kid seemed to share an interest in makeup, you were honestly surprised Killer had eyebrows. You didn't question the fact that nobody could see the makeup on a usual basis, it seemed a bit like the kind of confidence boost you get from wearing a matching bra and panties set under your clothes.

“Anything look interesting?” He asked, lifting his menu to read. You'd been trying your best to read yours but some of these words seemed like alien scripture to you, you'd have an easier time defusing a bomb.

“Honestly, I'm a bit out of my depth here,” you sighed, “I see pasta, I see peas, that's about where my limit is”

“Well, it's better than nothing,” he smiled, “you've come a long way. I'll read it for you”

Killer diligently read through all the items on the menu for you, stopping to read the descriptions when you asked for them, till you settled on a roast pork dish that included roasted vegetables and greens in a garlic sauce, as well as chocolate gateau cake for the dessert. Killer of course, ever the predictable, chose a spaghetti based dish, one with seafood and marinara sauce, as well as a cheese and fruit platter to share and the special for the dessert.

All thoughts of seeing a movie afterwards were forgotten as you both got lost in conversation and delicious food, eating and talking till the hostess said the restaurant would be closing soon. Neither of you had realised how late it had gotten till then, and Killer tipped the server handsomely for her patience and the privacy she'd allowed the two of you. You weren't bothered about missing a movie, you'd had such a lovely evening, but Killer promised to grab a copy of next week's schedule from the cinema before leaving tomorrow so you could both go see a movie together when the crew returned for the log pose reset. Like a true gentleman he walked you all the way to your cabin door, before tilting his mask up, kissing the back of your hand and bidding you goodnight. Sleep was difficult that night, not for the usual reasons, but because you kept thinking about him and giggling like a schoolgirl. You'd all but forgotten the fact that today you'd learned your name, and your birthday, and your mother's name even. The butterflies in your chest were far more distracting.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

Author Notes: We don't have an exact date for in canon when the events of One Piece happen but we know, according to the wiki because I'm lazy, that Nolan the Liar's diary was dated to 1120 ‘Age of the Sea Circle’ and that was 400 years ago pre timeskip, so I'm estimating current year in the fic to be 1524, which in terms of canon timeline is happening somewhere between the time skip and Wano. Wano will be the endpoint for this fic so you'll know exactly where it falls in the canon soon. I also imagine Yin to be a Taurus cos she's stubborn and sexy, hey just like my Taurus wife irl. Also, easter egg, Val means ‘wave’ in Croatian, according to google. Which means our reader's name is really Val ‘Yin’ [y/n]. There's nothing special about chosing Croatian I just thought Val sounded cool lmao. I imagine if she wasn't [y/n] that her real name would be something like Freja, who was a goddess of love and war (alternate spelling for Freya, its the spelling they use in Croatia apparently so that would match the surname), I think that's fitting for our girl. Freya is also linked to the valkyrie which will be important down the line WINK

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #heat one piece #heat x reader #kid pirates

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