#separating my masterlists to manage links better | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lorelune · 4 months ago

Text

O4O: part iii // PART 2

|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || omega4omega w/ milfy jing yuan || wc: 19.7k of 37.3k || ao3 ||

Your heat, and the sickness that comes with it, has set in fully. Jing Yuan contends with the type of closeness he craves with you.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

💦🎀 this piece is apart of SPRING FEVER: an omegaverse collab! 🎀💦

✨ O4O masterlist ✨ // part i — part ii — part iii -> PART 1 & PART 2

🩷 extended author's note

❣️ please note! part iii of o4o is separated into two posts here on tumblr. part 1 can be found linked above and at the end of this post as well. part iii is up as a single chapter on ao3 additionally! ❣️

notes: part 2!!! my god we MADE IT!!! my friends!! please enjoy. milfy jing yuan actualized. for new readers, please see above for links and such. enjoy dears 💗

CW: omegaverse, omega reader, omega jing yuan, top jing yuan (in this part) milfy jing yuan, mommy kink (both explicit and implicit), cry baby reader, fisting, knotting toys, biting, faux nursing, hurt/comfort, sickfic, past dan feng/jing yuan/yingxing, author-created omegaverse lore

Your pre-heat ends slowly. It festers hour by hour over the course of two days.

During that time, you’re achy and tired more than anything else. You spend most of your time laying on top of or next to Jing Yuan, tucked near his neck to breathe, open-mouthed, near his scent glands. You doze through most of your pre-heat. When you are awake enough for conversation, it’s mostly sensical. Needy and whiny in the most endearing way, but still intelligible.

He manages to feed you throughout your pre-heat. You’re not very hungry, but Jing Yuan convinces you to eat a few morsels every few hours. The prepped fruits, rice, and granola mixes get you through the worst of it.

On the second day of your pre-heat, you are properly miserable. You shiver with your heightening fever and your teeth slam together with the accompanying chills. You’ve changed your soft, lounge clothes at least half a dozen times in the last day. Your preferred position is your face smushed into his chest, forcing out labored breath after breath.

It is not easy to watch.

Discomfort is one thing, but you are clearly in pain. A fair amount of it. He knew you would be, but that doesn’t make seeing you in this state any easier. There is only so much he can do at this stage to ease you. Forcing you to take little bites of snacks and sips of electrolyte water is better than nothing. Massaging your now less-tender scent glands helps the most. You enjoy it, and you tell him so with your words and in the way you keen with his touch and roll to leave your most sensitive spots more open for him to touch.

It’s still only taking the edge off.

“It won’t be much longer,” he tells you. Filtered starlight beams down from the Luofu’s sky, leaking in from the edges of your blackout curtains. He tugs one a little to the side, back to darkness, jostling you in the process. “How are you feeling?”

You grumble, “L-like shit. I need to peel my s-skin off.”

“Too warm?” He asks.

“N-no too— cold. And itchy. And wrong.” You nestle closer to him, heading your cheek against his collarbone. “I w-want it to stop.”

“I know,” he says gently. “I know it isn’t comfortable.”

“It i-isn’t. A-Are you sure that I h-have to go through with this?”

“I’m sure.”

He’s certain.

At this point, you’re fully titrated off your suppressants. The only medicinal intervention that you’ve been prescribed to safely take at this point is tinctures for nausea and headaches if needed as well as an anti-inflammatory oil to use on any sore muscles or joints for once your heat begins and you inevitably put yourself and get put in various uncomfortable positions.

(There is, technically, another medication you’ve been prescribed as well. A chalky powder that can be broken off and ground down between Jing Yuan’s fingers and then rubbed on your gums and under your tongue. Per Lei Huiling’s firm instructions, this remedy is only to be used under the worst, heat-sick-induced circumstances.)

At present, and per Jing Yuan’s predictions, you will simply need to tough out your heat.

He’s there though.

Jing Yuan reminds you of this with a kiss, tilting your head up by the jaw and capturing your lips with his own. You kiss him back, eager and clumsy. Still trembling, but it doesn’t stop you from returning the gesture just as sweetly as he gives it to you.

“You’re doing well.” He speaks against your lips.

You whine, squirming, “You need to be careful, saying such sweet things to me.”

He chuckles, “Why is that?”

“Because.”

“‘Because’?”

“You know why!” Because it flusters you, clearly. Your palms cup his cheeks and you struggle to meet his gaze. It’s cute that you try.

“Could you enlighten me?”

“You’re teasing me now!” Your words carry no bite as you nip at one of his cheeks. “When you’re so nice, it makes it hard to think straight. Especially now.”

“And is there anything wrong with that?” He’s certain that you enjoy being teased, just as much as he enjoys teasing you.w

“... No. But, you’re weakening me. To your wiles. Sufficiently.”

“Am I now?”

“Yes!” You gasp as he noses below your ear. “Very much so!”

“Considering that you’re my omega,” he glances up at you, smug. “I would hope that my ‘wiles’ would be quite effective on you.”

You squeak, sputter, and nose into his hair to muffle the half-joking cry that you let loose. It’s clear that his intentional word choice, calling you his ‘omega’, is having its intended effect of turning you into a content, happy-scented puddle.

He preens.

It won’t be very long now.

...

Your heat properly erupts in the middle of the night, perhaps early morning.

Jing Yuan wakes up on his back, with you straddling his hips, grinding in tight, hard circles over his own sex. The straps of your bedclothes, indecently thin garments, slip down your shoulders. Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth and you brace yourself with your hands cupping over his breasts.

You’re leaking so much slick over him it feels immediately obscene.

“Baby—” His voice rumbles, gravely from sleep.

“—‘Started,” you tell him. “‘Started really bad, Jing Yuan. Hurts.”

You crumple at your middle, still grinding but ducking over him. Your mouth is on the scent gland in his neck instantly, lapping with flat-tongued strokes.

The scent of your heat engulfs him then. It’s— it’s strong. So strong, that a single meaningful lungful has him feeling light-headed. The pheromones you’re pouring out are heady and thick. Jing Yuan swears he can feel them in his throat. The usual warm scent and the acrid undertone that preheat had given you have been burned away. It’s still warm but it’s— spiced— Like dark tea brewed and served with a dollop of creamy honey. The lingering warmth of perfumed clothes just removed. A mouthful of a fresh, moist pastry—

Perhaps Jing Yuan isn’t thinking very clearly and he just wants you in his mouth.

He’s no alpha. He has no knot that begins to make itself known in response to the pheromonal firestorm that your heat has created. The white-iron hot desire that he feels in his gut is entirely something else. A delicacy he hasn’t had before, truthfully. Not like this. His cock is already hard and his cunt has been leaking between his legs as you’ve been clumsily taking your fill of him.

“When did it start, dear?” he asks.

You speak into his skin. “‘Don’t know. A few hours? In my sleep, I think.”

Your words are slurred and your sentences are already choppy. Jing Yuan mainly asked his previous question to gauge your sense of lucidity and your faculties. They’re fading already.

He takes a hold of your waist and pets down your back, gathering his bearings. You talked about this together; he knows how to proceed. Your desires have been voiced, and your trust has been entirely placed in him, no matter how nervous you have been.

Jing Yuan covets that trust.

He will take good care of you.

It takes essentially no effort to flip you gently, so you’re on your back within your nest. You blink at him, dazed.

“N-No—” You throw your head back against the mound of pillows with an angry huff. Your hips roll into the air, seeking friction that you’re not being given. “I—I need something, please, please—”

He shushes you, (“I know, I know.”) before wedging his soft, thick thigh between your own. The contact makes you cry out, clawing at Jing Yuan’s arms where he holds you. You— twitch with the contact, barely grinding before your hips stutter.

A choked noise works its way out of your throat. Jing Yuan’s heart aches.

“I’ve got you,” he assures. “Does this hurt, or feel good?”

“I—” You squeeze his shoulders and throw an arm over your arms. “G-Good? Maybe? ‘S lot.”

“We’ll go slow,” he promises, petting your sides, silky with the robe that barely remains on you.

Little trickles of slick have begun to seep from your cunt. It soaks through your thin panties, dampening his thigh. Jing Yuan purrs. Sweat soaks your robe as he carefully unties the loose knot at your waist, exposing your soft tummy and heaving chest. Before you can flinch from the exposure, Jing Yuan is petting you, hushing you.

Heats don’t demand slowness, usually. They demand haste. Excess. As much contact and pheromones other than one’s own as one can conceivably inhale. Most omegas demand near-constant fucking, or at least penetration, for the duration of their heat. There are salves and oils for abrasion and potential tears, some of which Jing Yuan has already stocked for you.

Slowness doesn’t necessitate them. Not right away anyway.

He smooths his hands up your ribs, stopping to cup your cheeks and rub below your eyes. “I’ve got you.”

You keen and arch into him. “‘So good to me—”

“As you deserve,” he chuckles. It’s easy to be good to you.

You kiss him. Your lips are chapped, just barely, and he feels the drag of the dry skin when he angles his head to better deepen the kiss. You’re sweet about this kind of contact. You surge forward, closer, seeking his touch, prodding his lips with your tongue until he parts them just enough for you to lick into his mouth.

The two of you moan when you do. Pheromones in spit— the mixing of yours is divine. It makes Jing Yuan’s eyes roll back in his head behind his closed eyelids. The taste of you melds with your scent. It’s an intoxicant, truly. He laps at your tongue and sucks it into his mouth until you’re making soft, needy noises against him.

You pull apart, just far enough away to breathe full breaths. You pet over his face, pupils blown so wide that only a thin ring of your iris remains. Your lips stay parted. Wet, with drool visibly pooling in your mouth.

Slick is beginning to soak your nest beneath you.

You notice this at the same time Jing Yuan does, and a twisted look appears on your face. It mars your expression for the briefest moment before you wipe the back of your hand over your lips with a huff.

Jing Yuan observes.

(He expected this much. For you to impede your own pleasure, to scorn your own desire.)

It will take some whittling, he has known this, but you will enjoy this. At least some of it, he will make sure of that. If nothing else, you will be sated and well taken care of.

His wide hands hike up your thighs on either side of him, braced on his own hips. He purrs your name with a tilt of his head, “Can you be good for me?”

“O-Of course— I can.”

“I mean it.” He speaks low, almost dark, nosing the sensitive shell of your ear. “I know you can be.”

His words make you whine. It’s a pathetic, whimpering sound that makes his cock twitch. It’s sweet and so cute. It makes his insides flutter and he kisses you with the feeling.

It’s an engulfing sort of thing, your heat. Jing Yuan still retains his level head but he can feel the different edge his arousal carries now. It’s not like his own heat. He has a blessed amount of clarity, but his gut is pierced by heat that is so searing, his cockhead is already purpling. Your slick is beginning to mix together.

You’re— losing yourself. He can see it as he breaks away to kiss down your neck. Your breaths are too fast, maybe a little too shallow. When you do inhale, there’s a little sound that cuts the air that concerns him. Your hands stay fisted in the sheets at your side, and you squeak as he nips at your collarbones.

“Baby—” The pet name rolls off his tongue without thinking. “I’ve got you, okay?”

You nod, jerkily. Uncomfortable, clearly. He rubs your sides with a frown.

“J-just—” You barely get the words out as you curse under your breath. “Hurts. I don’t— I don’t—”

“It’ll feel better if I touch you, don’t you think?”

With the suggestion, he cups over your chest, running a thumb over the tender flesh there. You jump with the sensation.

“I—I just—” Your voice breaks, and you manage to push yourself up. Shooing Jing Yuan off and a bit away, running a hand down your cheeks. You can’t manage eye contact, instead stare into the warm shadows of your bedroom. A scowl plays on your lips. “I—I don’t k-know, it feels bad. It hurts and it feels bad and I don’t know— I don’t—”

The panic in your voice is so clear. It makes his heart ache.

“Does it not feel good when I touch you?”

“Not— not not good. Just not... comfortable. I don’t—”

He says your name softly.

Your breath comes too fast, “Are you sure you w-want to be helping?”

He says your name again. You don’t seem to hear him.

“I mean— I’ll be fine. If you don’t want to, I can handle this on my own. All the help already has been r-really nice—”

He says your name firmly. You still don’t hear him.

“I—I just— I don’t deserve your kindness, y-you know? And it’s only going to g-get harder, you should just l-leave before it gets worse—”

(Leave? Leave? LEAVE you like this? For Jing Yuan to even fathom leaving you alone, suffering, heat-stricken, and alone in your nest, makes him ache in all new ways and it sends a sparking line of rage in him that demands attention.)

He says your name once more, hard enough in tone that you jump. Before you can protest more, and attempt to shutter yourself from support again— he places a hand over you both and levels his gaze with your own.

His voice comes out far more gently than he thought it would. “Please do not suggest that I would leave my omega alone while in the throes of heat sickness. I know you’re scared, and that it is difficult, but I’m here to take care of you, and I mean that, so truly.”

“But it’s a lot—”

“It’s really not.” Jing Yuan cuts you off. “It won’t ever be ‘a lot’ to be in your nest, with you. Pleasuring you and providing you comfort? They’re joys, not chores.”

“I—” You put a hand in your hair, gripping your hair at the root. “Even s-so, I— I don’t t-think, Jing Yuan, I don’t think I r-really deserve all of your kindness... do I?”

Your last words are quiet, so quiet that he hardly hears them. The moment they’re out of your mouth, you make a pained sound, your chest heaving, and you tug at your hair and��

Jing Yuan can’t have that. He can’t.

In a fluid motion, he has your bent in half.

Your feet dangle off his shoulders, your calves rounding his cheeks. Your own cheeks flush with the motion. Your thighs squish against the softness of your belly. Jing Yuan disentangles your hand from your hair with a gentle hum. You protest, just a little, squeezing your legs together the best you can.

He cows you down with ease. You settle for draping the damp bits of your robe over your core. The hint of modesty has you relax, just a little.

He laces both of your hands together and presses them into your nest on either side of your head.

“I won’t have you being cruel to yourself,” Jing Yuan says. His tone brokers no argument, and you don’t attempt to give him one regardless. “I won’t stand for you hurting any more than your body already is.”

You only look guilty and sad, barely managing eye contact. “O-Okay.”

“And—” Jing Yuan brushes his nose with yours, his hair falling like a veil around you both. “You deserve to feel good, don’t you think?”

“M-Maybe. It’s a lot—”

“It’s not a lot.”

“But it is.”

“It is to you, in your mind, perhaps.” He rationalizes. “But, it’s not a lot for me. And I’m the one with you now, aren’t I?”

You blink at him, chewing your lip.

“... You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t wanna be, huh?” Tears gather in your eyes.

“I wouldn’t. And, I very much want to be here.” With you, in your nest, bringing you pleasure and comfort. It’s all he wants, and he’s so close to being able to give it to you. “I know it is frightening to trust someone enough to give them yourself like this. But, I’ll take good care of you. I promise.”

“I know— but, it i-is scary.” You sniffle. “... Are you sure i-it’s okay?”

“Very sure.”

“O-Okay.”

You don’t look completely settled, there’s something deeper in you that’s showing itself now. It's an insecurity he’s seen glimpses of, but now that he’s between your legs, folding you at the waist, it shows itself more completely.

You swallow. “... You’ll tell me if it’s not okay?”

“Of course.” He kisses you again, reverent. “But that won’t happen.”

“You can’t be certain.”

“I can be.”

“But you— can’t—”

“I can be.” He repeats. “Please, trust me.”

That’s all this is, isn’t it? An exchange of trust. You wrestle with giving yours to him, more than him to you, and that’s okay. There are pieces of you he doesn’t know, and that’s alright. He has time to learn them at whatever pace is comfortable for you. He is a patient man, after all.

At this moment, there’s still worry. He is sure that there are wounded parts of you that are keeping you from (and have kept you from) luxuriating in the pleasure a heat can bring, or accepting the comfort you so desperately need now.

He’ll pick those apart later.

For now, he waits for you to process, to unfurl slowly with his plying and prying. He’s never been one to beg, but he thinks he would, for you.

You don’t make him.

“I trust you.” Your voice is the most solid it’s been in days.

He kisses you then. Once, twice, a third time. Until the haggard little breaths you were giving him turn to sweet, burgeoning moans that he drinks up greedily. Your core grinds against his own, slick with you, mixing with him. It’s not enough contact, not enough to be sating, but it’s a promise of something so, so deserved.

...

Your heat rages.

Jing Yuan has only his own heat as a point of reference— maybe the lingerings of Baiheng’s he witnessed in the past— regardless, by comparison, your heat is far more intense. If his heats are the singe of sitting a bit too close to an otherwise comfortable hearth, yours is much more like setting on fresh, live embers without the ability to move away from the burn of them.

He still attempts to take his time. He wants to do this right.

Jing Yuan grinds his cock against your core. You’ve soaked him; you’ve soaked your nest too. It’s an obscene amount of slick. He’s already had to pause a few times to get you to sip from one of your well-placed water bottles, despite your protests.

“Be good,” he reminds you. You are good, so you let him tip the bottle against your lips. Once the water hits your tongue, you drink greedily.

You’re becoming less lucid.

Jing Yuan still rests between your legs, on his haunches despite the ghosts of hip pain. He drags his lips over your ankles, leaving light, calming kisses. You whine with the contact, bucking your hips.

You want more, he knows this— he knows, but he wants to give you enough without overwhelming you. It’s a delicate balance that he is learning in real-time.

The head of his filled-out cock catches on your clit. Your back arches and your scent goes aflame.

It— it is a lot. Not too much, not unmanageable, but Jing Yuan would be lying if he said that being with you now wasn’t a lot.

Your scent is so potent, so mouthwatering, that Jing Yuan has found himself drooling. His mouth is full of spit when he kisses you, pushing you back into your nest (where you are warm and safe and tended to.) You’re so warm to the touch. Feverish, clearly.

(Despite the ramping contact, the looming presence of heat sickness remains.)

Your arousal is so apparent. You’re so sensitive, despite your neediness and needs.

(This is already so overwhelming for you.)

Jing Yuan pulls away from your lips. You both pant. The melding of your scents (in his fucking mouth) has him grinding against your core, holding your hips in a grip that is verging on bruising. You don’t seem to mind, you may even be enjoying it, based on the way your eyes are half-lidded.

He rolls you both into your side, resting with one arm under your head and his other meandering down your torso.

Playfully, Jing Yuan rubs the pad of his thumb over your nipple. He relishes the sound you make in response, something cracking and dry and so needy.

“Please—“

(He wants you to break; he wants to bring you there.)

He kisses the words from your mouth. Shameless. As he deserves to be.

You extend your neck for him, probably without meaning to. You bear your burning scent gland to him and give him a silent plea for relief, one that he answers without question.

It’s following an instinct, really. The urge to help, quell, to make better— it’s such an integral part of how he lives. It’s why he has been such a well-thought-of, reliable General. It’s why he has weathered quiet pains that others would run from in order to bring about something better.

On a personal level, the latent instinct to ‘care’ does not present itself that often. It does not have much opportunity to, especially these days. Perhaps when Yanqing was just a scrap of a cub, maybe, he was aware of the itch in his chest to ‘care’ with his own two hands for another.

Yingxing and Dan Feng didn’t care to indulge those feelings of Jing Yuan. Not with any frequency, anyways. They enjoyed crumbs of it but preferred to tend to Jing Yuan instead. He does enjoy receiving care, and they lavished him with it while skillfully avoiding the most intense of his own urges.

You, however, welcome them.

Part of it is that you… are a little pathetic. Especially now, wet-eyed and soft in your tummy, wordlessly begging for more of him and the relief he can so easily bring you.

He kisses down to your scent gland, gentle over the sensitive flesh before sucking at it. You warble out a cry, scrambling for purchase over his shoulders. He can feel the round gland under his tongue, softening minutely, but still firm and hot.

Your scent hits his tongue in the most raw way. It makes his eyes water and a pure purr rips from the base of his throat. He grips your hips, hard, to drag you closer. He has to as he sucks there and takes mouthfuls of your scent like a fine, effervescent spirit.

His hand slides over the expanse of your hips, hovering near your sex without broaching too close.

“Can I touch you here—?”

“Please!” You shove your face into the crook of his neck, throwing your leg over his hip, so your dripping core is exposed.

The cold air makes you jolt, whine, and shove closer to him. Desperate and burning. That’s all it takes for Jing Yuan to slip a hand between your legs, wide, and cover your cunt completely.

(He wants to feel you.)

The heat coming off you is obscene. Startling, even. You really are in heat and burning up. Your cunt radiates the heat of fever as he squeezes over it. Over you, and your most vulnerable core.

A watery, desperate sound is muffled into his neck.

He’s touched you before, during his own heat. Laying with you then was a pleasure, truly, but the memory of it is heat-blurred. He cherishes the flashes and afterimages he does have. Even from those fragments, he remembers you are sensitive. He knows now that he is the first one to ever touch you like, hold you like this, and be near you like this and—

(Well, it’s doing something to him on such a carnal level that he feels like he’s being slowly rewritten within your nest—)

He has been so careful with you. Chaste, before this too. Partially to not overwhelm you, and partially because he is, perhaps, being a bit covetous about this. Sharing a heat, sharing many of your firsts with you— he is grateful and possessive of these things in equal measure.

Jing Yuan gives you what you need, running a knuckle between the seam of your cunt. Your chest heaves against his own as he does so. He rubs against the bud of your clit, switching to the pad of his thumb to roll small circles over you.

You moan for him, dissolving into soft pants and desperate sounds.

It’s easy to pleasure you this way. You’re so sensitive; it doesn’t take much. He’s aided by the unconscious grind of your hips toward his hand. The pressure won’t be enough, but for now, you take it in kind.

Your slick coats his fingers, dripping obscenely onto your thigh, only to spill onto the bed below. He drags his fingers through it, relishing the slip of it.

“Inside?” he asks.

You nod, vigorous and eager.

And you’re so good for him. Taking what you are given, asking when you need more. You’re so sweet for him; he hopes you know. He’ll make sure to tell you. He’ll show you too.

He teases your hole only for a moment before gingerly pressing his index finger into your cunt.

You’re tight. He expected this, but you’re still tighter than he thought you’d be—

(He wonders, latently, if you ever touch yourself here, or if your discomfort with knots and nearly-new collection of toys is indicative of a preference against penetration under different circumstances.)

You gasp at the intrusion and wriggle. Aeons, you shudder with the contact and somehow tense even further. Something— something old and soft in him aches.

“It’s alright,” he assures. It’s all he can do. “I’ve got you, it’s alright.”

You whine, “I k-know.”

It’s the most lucid you’ve been since your heat has started.

Jing Yuan doesn’t move his finger; he focuses on petting down your side and lavishing your cheeks with kisses. You loosen up with his attention, enough for him to comfortably move inside you just the smallest bit. Slick wets his wrist.

“S-Sorry—” You twitch when he barely curls his finger. “‘M not good at this—”

“Hush,” Jing Yuan scolds, lightly, with a tender tone in his voice that he hardly recognizes. “You’re doing very well for me. All you need to do is feel good and remember that I have you, hm? Can you do that for me?”

It’s condescending to speak to you this way. It lights a fire in his own belly, all the same. You respond so well to it— nodding, sniffling, and readjusting your leg over his hip so that you’re even more open.

He rubs your clit with his thumb, adding another finger when he deems you ready, then another when your cunt is practically gushing. The scent is— intoxicating. Worryingly sweet, heat sickness creeping in despite everything, but Jing Yuan will do all he can—

In a flurry of motion, he kneels between your legs, pressing a hand over your navel with his thumb circling your clit faster. He pumps three fingers into you at a steady pace, deep and curling. He has been hitting your sweet spot, he knows. He can feel the way your cunt flutters around his fingers.

You’re debauched.

Every motion forces a little sound from you. Sweat pools in the valley of your chest. Your hair is mussed up from friction and static. You white-knuckle the sheets at your side.

You need more, but Jing Yuan can only give you so much in small doses for now.

When you come, it’s an intense thing. Your legs tighten around him, ankles locking against his lower back as your back arches off the bed. You throw a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the filthy moan that cracks from it—

He’s quick to bat it away— with his mouth. He— he needs to hear you, actually. In a decisive, quick move, he nips at your wrist while finger fucking you through your orgasm. Tears bead at the corners of your eyes

Your chest heaves as you come down from the high.

Jing Yuan’s cock is hard. It’s not much of a concern for him, not now— it’s better he put off coming until he actually fucks you. He’s pouring slick from his own cunt still, and it’s cooling against his thighs. He shivers.

“‘S’okay? You?” You slur, blinking rapidly. “C’mere please.”

You bundle up together in your nest.

In the afterburn of pleasure... you don’t seem sated. If anything, your scent is more tart than before. It’s worrisome. You mewl, something soft and sad and pathetic, squeezing your thighs together as they tangle with his own.

“Oh, dear,” he says. “I’ve got you. It’s alright.”

His reassurances will only go so far, he knows. Your omegan hindbrain has cravings that cannot be satisfied just by sweet words. There are other comforts you need, too. You wriggle next to him, seeking out the scent gland in his neck, and that feeling in his stomach presents itself and twists.

...

Jing Yuan is very glad that he massaged out your scent glands prior to your heat. If he hadn’t, it probably would have resulted in some sort of medical emergency truthfully.

Your heat rages, and quickly heat sickness sweeps you up.

He is good to you because he wants to be so badly, but it’s not enough.

After using his fingers, he uses one of your toys next. He lets you on top of him, chest-to-chest. You grind over his painfully stiff cock, while he fucks you with one of your dildos. It’s one with a fierce curve, scrapping over your sweet spot.

You cum twice more, in quick succession, gushing over top of his cock and lower belly. The release unfortunately does not do much of anything to soothe your ache. Your scent grows beyond acrid and bitter, suffocating the room. The intertwining pheromones of your mutual arousal are swallowed by it. Your scent grows more concerning with more stimulation. It’s— worrisome. Deeply troubling.

(You need knot. He knows you need it. You probably know it too, if only in the most carnal, base parts of your brain. You need to be fucked, filled and stuffed full before you’ll feel well again. Each touch he gives you that isn’t knot, no matter how pleasurable, is not enough. It can’t ever be enough.)

(Attempting to provide you relief with your assortment of toys without... pushing was wishful thinking. A valiant, worthwhile attempt, but nonetheless, insufficient.)

Jing Yuan, truthfully, expected this. He planned contingencies— he always does— they just... will be potentially unpleasant for you.

(Or, cleaving for the two of you, perhaps, if he is not careful. If he chooses one particularly daring path.)

Your nest is rumpled. You lay on your side, panting with an open mouth. Your eyes are bloodshot and half-lidded. Jing Yuan cups your cheeks and rubs over the burning flesh.

“I feel so bad,” You tell him, glancing up at him. There’s slick halfway down your thighs. “‘M gonna die?”

“No.” He corrects swiftly. He laps over your cheeks, following his own latent instincts. It feels right. “You’ll be alright dear, I promise—”

“You sure?”

“Certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

You don’t respond, just lean into him. Your lucidity is mostly gone with heat and fever.

“Baby?” He asks, the endearment slipping from his lips (almost out of his control—) “You trust me to take care of you, don’t you?”

“‘So much, Jing Yuan.”

“I’m glad.”

He kisses you on your lips, chapped and cracking as they are. You’re sweating and slicking out liquid faster than you can drink and stay hydrated.

It’s concerning, all of it is— but he has your express permission. Consent to push, in this instance. You need it, he knows this and he can see it. He mentally reminds himself where the most important of your medications are kept and where the spare packets of electrolyte drink powder have been stashed.

You lean into his touch, flame to flame.

...

Jing Yuan is putting off fucking you.

Because it is not what you need right now.

What you need is fullness, without knot, which Jing Yuan can provide you. Granted in a way that he’s only seen in pornographic immersia and read about in dirty online forums under a pseudonym, but he has a great deal of confidence in himself to deliver.

It is still somewhat daunting.

Especially considering that your state is continuing to worsen. Night falls more quickly than he would like. And, despite his own sore wrist and slick-stained chin, you’re worse for wear.

You’re tucked against him. You’ve been fervently seeking closeness from him in a grabby, cute way. You sit sideways in his lap with your cheek squished against his breast. A sheet has been thrown haphazardly over the two of you, less for modesty and its meager offering of heat, and instead for some amount of grounding. An additional tether, other than himself. You wear the scent-gland stimulating cuffs tight on your wrists.

You pant, whine, and shove your face into his chest.

”A-Awful—“ Your words slip and grit out from clenched teeth.

“I know.” Jing Yuan finds himself whispering, “I’m sorry.”

“I—“ You grind your teeth.

Jing Yuan grabs your lower jaw and squeezes, just enough so that you release the tension there.

“Be good.”

”I-I’m— I’m trying.”

You dissolve. A sob creeps from the back of your throat, onto your tongue before spilling from your lips. One after another, frantic sounds punctuated by ragged, high breaths.

It hurts to hear; it hurts to know you’ve fallen to this point while he is in your nest.

It’s for lack of trying, you both know that. (Or he hopes you do. He isn’t certain that you’re within yourself enough to make those types of assumptions.)

“It’s alright,” he tries to soothe, but you’re past that point. You hiccup around your breath and jolt against him.

(The sight of you so overtaken by tears does something to him. A simultaneous affection and urge to... coddle? Keep? Have? It’s hard to identify. It lingers in the aether of him and tangles with his instincts in such a way—)

Jing Yuan presses his fingers into your mouth.

You accept it, you always do, even if you fight with the digit for a moment. Your jaw tightens up and your lips purse like you’re ready to nip him. He probes around your mouth, and you relax almost instantly with the motion. He pets along your tongue and your gums— even pushes toward the back of your mouth, just shy of where your gag reflex will trigger. Your tension drips away as he explores.

You suck on his finger, dutifully, just as he intended.

He likes this— he has since the first time he deigned to follow this impulse. It seems to relax you as well. Settles you, even now, when you’re heat-flushed and so poorly. He pets along your cheeks too. Your tears don’t quite dry, but your breath evens out beautifully.

“It’s alright,” he coos, relieved. “So good for him.”

You preen with the praise, and rest against him, an everburning coal.

This is part of the indulgent thing that Jing Yuan struggles to acknowledge. It’s hard to get his teeth around, and even harder to word. He’s been gifted with an eloquent silver tongue since his youth; he’s never found it difficult to string together his thoughts into words. This feeling is an exception. There have been very few in his lifetime.

(You’re— his. You’re his. His. He has to take care of you. Make sure you’re well, even if it hurts to get there. He’ll take care of you, so well. You’ll let him because you’re good for him, and you listen so well and don’t fuss anymore than you need to.)

He swallows.

“Let’s take care of you now, hm?” He hums.

You’re agreeable when he slides you off his lap, and back into your rumpled nest. He takes time to re-fluff it around the two of you, letting you sink into the space further. You shove your face into one of the shirts he’d left with you that made its way into the core of your nest. You hold it to your chest and watch him.

He settles between your legs. Steadies himself and shifts his hair to one shoulder. You watch him with attention that must be hard to muster within your fever. The soft thing in him cracks further, yearns harder.

“Baby,” he says, soft and reverent. “Can I help you feel better?”

“Y-you have been—”

“Not like before,” he tells you. “I’m going to fill you up. It’ll make you feel better here.”

He presses his flat hand over your navel. Your hips jump sharply.

You eye him warily.

“… N-No knots?”

“No knots.” He assures you. “Just me. Is that alright?”

You nod immediately. Instantly. You trust him so deeply; it almost hurts to think about.

He kisses you. The finger that had been in your mouth probes downward, past your ribs and soft tummy, to your steadily leaking cunt. He drags the digit up and down there, pressing into your slow and steady. He refuses haste here. He wants to take his time.

His own arousal feels secondary, especially now. The plan he has crafted, the act that he is beginning, will be more than sating enough. He doesn’t even really feel the urge to be sated physically. It’s an act of giving in a way that makes something older in his hindbrain purr at the prospect of actualizing.

He adds a second finger into your hole, pumping them in and out, slowly.

You mewl under him, desperate and... small. Not actually, not really, but in the way that he is perceiving you. Like a kitten needing the tending of its...

(Mother.)

Oh.

There’s clarity in putting a word to the desires he feels. He... suspected something similar. But hadn’t come to him so bluntly before. It feels almost lewd in its nature, maybe fetishistic. He doesn’t particularly mind, truthfully. There’s a shuddering, warm kind of pleasure he takes in having a grip on this burgeoning type of desire. The shape of it is clearer.

“Jing Yuan?” You say, soft and wet. “‘S okay? You okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums, kissing you again. Stealing any potential doubts and worries you could have.

He slips a third finger into him, and he swallows the moan that tumbles from your lips against his own.

You’re loose from prior stimulation and the incessant slick. Three fingers is hardly a stretch, but four is. He rolls your clit while teasing his pinky finger at your entrance. Your cunt flexes around his fingers and you make a sound of vague confusion, pushing up to see better.

Moderately unnecessary.

Jing Yuan cajoles you a bit, keeping his fingers inside you as he does. He fixes the angle of you so you’re flat on your back with your leg raised up on either side of him. Folded in half. If he presses down on your legs, you’d be held down into a favored omega mating position. You must enjoy it, as a gush of slick streams from your hole. You pant and squirm.

He spits on his fingers, letting a ball of saliva drip to where he enters you.

His pinky finger bullies its way inside of you. It’s a slow affair, pressing in and a little deeper with each gentle thrust of his fingers. Enough to stretch, but barely ache. Your toes curl as he tends to you.

“One more,” he tells you.

“... ‘S more?”

He hums. You’re so feverish. You haven’t caught on, have you?

Jing Yuan shapes his hand just right, spitting again and scooping up excess slick on his thumb to smear over the rest of his hand that remains outside of you. He toys with your stretched opening, giving you a moment to put together his action.

(Such a sweet thing, needing this so badly from him.)

He pushes the last of his fingers inside you.

“O-Oh—” You watch as he does, jaw going slack and your legs falling limp at his sides.

This is a stretch. It’s too much, probably, but once the ache of all of his fingers carving your cunt open subsides, it will be so good for you. He’s confident.

Jing Yuan bites his own lip when you whimper, sweat beading on your neck. It’s unpleasant. It hurts you. He knows. He knows and he persists despite the resistance at your opening. He hopes— you don’t tear. You shouldn’t, you’re so slick and warm and wet that you should be just fine. The thought that you could still frightens him enough that he feels sick to his stomach—

(His baby— that can’t happen. If it does, he’ll lick you clean and well there until you’re all better.)

It’s a snug fit when he finally manages to wedge his thumb inside of you. His fist slips inside of you, and the opening of your cunt only has to stretch around his wrist— which still isn’t small. Neither is his hand. Neither of them line up with the anatomy of an alpha cock and knot, but it’s closer than anything else. It’ll sate the need you have for fullness.

His mouth waters at the sight of his hand in you. The bulge it makes in your belly. His gaze flickers back to your face and he—

His cock twitches, he nearly blacks out.

You’re a vision. It’s obscene. Your lips are bitten raw, bleeding at a corner. Drool slips down the side of your lips, and you’re struggling to keep your gaze focused, but it’s trained on him. Near him. Slipping down to where Jing Yuan has managed to work his entire fist into you. You fist one of the pillows under your head, and the other is wound up in the sheets at your side.

When he dares to move his fist in you, even a little, it shoots to grab his free wrist.

He hushes you, then. Your breath is too fast. Overstimulation just from insertion is to be expected, that’s what he had read. He kisses the crook of your knee with a hum.

“J-Jing Yuan—” Your voice clips, frantic. “Too much, too much—”

“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s not a knot, dear. It’s just me, taking care of you. I can take it out at any time.”

“I— ‘re s-sure?”

“Certain. But I think this will help you. Doesn’t it feel good to be full?”

“... Full.”

It’s what an omega craves so deeply. Full of knots, love, and care, that they can both give to others and receive in kind. They desire to be cherished, really. He wants to cherish you. This in itself is an act of complete adoration. Jing Yuan feels giddy with it.

He barely moves his hand, the motion can barely be called a thrust— but he presses against your womb all the same. All of your insides.

The stimulation is enough that you come, constricting over his hand with a gush of slick so obscene, Jing Yuan can’t help but dip his head down and lap up the spill that runs down his wrist. He gives your clit an errant kiss, and that had you crying out, squirming, and then freezing with the abrupt pressure.

You cry out his name, watery and endless.

It’s good, like this. His cock is so hard it hurts, and his cunt drips its own puddle into your nest. It’s easy to ignore, put aside, as you lay yourself bare for him. He’s as locked inside of you as he can possibly be without an alpha’s anatomy. The closeness of the act turns his own guts as he lavishes you with kisses.

You arch with each of his movements, jarring and overstimulated pleasantly. Little streams of pleas for more, for him, for his touch and presence dribble from your lips as he works his fist in little thrusts inside you. You cum, at least twice more, maybe three times. He loses count once you gush and squirm so much that it coats your navel and up to his forearm.

He’d like to make you do that out of heat when he’d be able to see your embarrassed expression and hear your bashful words.

Now, you glut yourself, begging with little grinds of your hips and pulling his hand to your lips to suck on his free fingers. It’s obscene, it’s perfect, and you’re full.

“So good for me,” he licks your cheek, his hair covering the two of you like a veil. “Do you know that, how good you are?”

You nod, drunk on pleasure, and relief, more than anything.

“Say it for me, baby.”

“‘M good,” you smile, toothy and pure, and throw your head back when he ducks down to lick at your scent gland.

“Once more, please?

“I’m good— f-for you—”

“For who?”

“... For— Jing Yuan?”

“Try again, dear.”

You make a helpless sound. “...G-General?”

“Once more. I know you can do it.”

Jing Yuan doesn't know— how to communicate this wordlessly. It will require words when you are more equipped to hear them. This is already pushing what you can handle in your overheated mind.

But he tries— because he trusts you just as much as you trust him.

He opens his mouth, jaw wide, and hovers his teeth over your scent gland. He doesn’t bite, he wouldn’t now, but he makes his teeth known with a brush of his sharp canines around the round, inset organ. He knows you feel them. You shudder. His fingers dip in your mouth again, just for a moment, to press down on your tongue and demand attention—

He withdraws them and your breath catches. Your scent blooms into cedar and cinnamon.

“Oh.” You go still. “... Mommy? Mama?”

Jing Yuan groans, something unadulterated and unfiltered. It’s a sound of his own relief, his own quenching and realizing coalescing. It’s punctuated by a sharp worry, that if this is misread and wrong, this tender thing that belongs to you just as much as it belongs to him will be rejected—

But the feeling is washed away easily when he gets a look at your face, awestruck. Open and soft. Yearning in a way that’s cracked open. You wouldn’t give this to anyone else, would you?

It calms him, instantly. You surge closer to kiss him, sobbing against his lips as the motion presses his knuckles into your sweet spot and your cervix makes you come again, easy for him, as you so deserve to be.

You melt then. Into him, into your nest, dissolving into a puddle of slick and soft-hearted tears. Jing Yuan catches you easily, as he has wanted to do for so, so long.

...

Having another omega as a heatmate is about comfort, ultimately.

It’s not the same as having an alpha in your nest. There’s no cloud of pheromones that urges one to fall to their knees and present prettily for a knot. The craving for fullness is there, but the parched feelings of desire are more lucid. One does not drown in desire, but rather swim and tread water.

Having another omega as a heatmate helps keep one floating.

After the discovery that Jing Yuan’s fist is a proper and satisfying alternative for a (comfortable) knot, your heat sickness begins to ebb off. It’s slow, but your fever reduces from sweltering down to toasty. Working his fist into you every eight hours or so keeps your symptoms manageable. Along with mini-massages to your scent glands, the edges of heat sickness have smoothed out, much to his relief.

There’s another aspect to your relief, of course. His own too. The fledgling dynamic that has been realized is... good. So good. Jing Yuan has felt it growing since his own heat. The need to care for you, to dote and coddle you as you need (maybe a little more than you need—), but he didn’t have the words to describe the urges. The relationship that he instinctively wanted to have with you— his omega.

It seems obvious in retrospect. From the first moment he took interest in you, you have scratched a particular part of his brain that he hadn’t isolated and examined thoroughly previously. Perhaps if he had, the expression of care that you’ve now put a name to would’ve been birthed far sooner.

Regardless, it’s good to have now. And to indulge it in the presence and explore it under these conditions where it is so, so needed.

Your mind is still foggy; it’s very evident. You’re snuggled up, between his thighs, rolling the pudge above his hips in your hands. You’re purring. It’s a uniquely omegan sound that he has been twinning with you often. Including now.

It sounds like a harmony, his own a few steps lower than yours.

You sink lower down his body, dragging your nose and lips over his thighs. Your gaze is clouded and your mouth is wet.

“‘Wanna take care of you—” you say, nuzzling into the juncture of his thigh and pelvis. You suck in a breath, tasting his musk on your tongue.

You shudder.

“If you’d like,” he replies, running a hand through your hair. “Take what you need.”

It’s his presence that you need, really. You need to be drenched in his scent, and there is no better way than being between his legs and mouthing at the head of his cock.

(He remembers this feeling during his own heat with you as well. Needing you to be inside him, to glut himself on you— his mouth was the best way to do it.)

He imagines you feel similarly as you stroke him, licking away a pearl of pre that appears at the tip. A shuddering breath leaves his lips.

It feels... good. Everything has felt good. The physicality, the intimacy, the literal closeness, the sexual contact you have shared— it’s been good. Pleasurable. Even if he hasn’t been on the receiving end for much of it, it has still been satisfying and filling in a way that gets him purring louder and rougher.

“‘Can I?” Your words slur and you drag the tip of your nose up the length of his cock. “Can I suck you off, mommy?”

Jing Yuan has to stifle the sound that catches in his throat. He nods; he doesn’t trust himself enough to speak. You sink your mouth down his cock with a moan, eyes shutting and you work your tongue against the underside of it. It’s sizable for an omega. It’s a perfect mouthful for you.

It feels good— so good. He’s sensitive; he doesn’t touch himself particularly often. It shows now as he inhales sharply, raking a hand through your hair to rest on your crown. He strokes his fingers there, shaking all over.

You lack technique, but your pure want makes up for it. Your mouth is wet and lush around him. So sweetly, you keep purring, the vibration of it curling around him in a way that threatens to make him go cross-eyed.

He is embarrassingly close embarrassingly quickly.

Jing Yuan manages to hold off with a measured sigh, attempting to unfurl some of the tension in his stomach. You suck at him with unrelenting vigor regardless.

Even more unfairly, one of your hands drifts lower, to the seam of his cunt. Your eyes crack open just enough to look at him, mirthful and mischievous as you pull off him. Strands of spit stretch from your lips to the rapidly purpling head of his cock.

“‘S good?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

”So good, b-baby.”

His voice trembles, he doesn’t mean it to. You sink a finger into him and curl without reverie. It scratches his sweet spot, pressing up against the most fragile parts of him.

He arches his back with a groan— it’s so much. The scent of him has drool dripping from your lips, down onto his cock while you thrust your fingers gingerly in and out. Even heat-brained, you are so thoughtful with him.

”I—“ Your voice breaks, dry. You swallow. “I want you to come in my m-mouth. Please?”

”Asking so sweetly,” he muses as you wrap your lip around his cock once more. “How could I not?”

You purr even louder, fucking him deeper and harder. Pleasure crackles up his spine. Your scent is sweet and warm in his mouth, like aromatic spices, warmed over a heart-bound stove. It’s creamy honey on his tongue. His cock twitches in your mouth and you moan with it, wanton.

It’s too good, really. It’s better he spills early, rather than later. Your stamina will surely outlast his own and he’d rather have some resilience left as your heat progresses.

He comes down your throat with a cracking moan.

It’s higher and softer than he’d used to. He’s not usually loud— not when he’s by himself, anyway. Yet he can’t restrain the way he falls apart under your touch, pouring cum down your throat in spurts, his slick drenching your hand.

You pull away with a kitten cough. Jing Yuan is breathless, floored, and hollowed out in some ways. Your overt desire is undoing to him. He wants you— in his mouth.

You lick the cum and spittle off our lips with a wry grin. You meet his gaze as you lap up his slick from your fingers. Your tongue lays flat and moves slowly. You sway between his legs, panting a little too quickly for his liking.

He feels himself growl, cowing.

He doesn’t mean to, but he does despite that.

“Be careful now, baby,” he reminds you.

He doesn’t mind the display of your confidence. You’re so rarely cocky. But it’s so satisfying to see how you crumble to this dynamic, the way you yearn for his hand and guidance.

”Why’s that?” You tilt your head cutely.

He hums, “I don’t want you getting ahead of yourself.”

”Oh.” You blink at him, nodding. It’s demure and sweet. “I understand. S-Sorry.”

”There’s nothing to be sorry about." He kisses you. Your mouth tastes like both of you. He licks against your teeth for the lingerings of his own spent. “It’s quite flattering, but I know best to take care of you, don’t I?”

This makes you pause.

There’s so much trust between the two of you; he knows this. He’s so intensely aware of it. None of this (your companionship, sharing your nest, both of your heats) could occur without it. Yet, he asks for more.

(He wants you to say it. That he can take care of you.)

”Y-Yeah,” you say and reach for his hand to squeeze it. “Y-You know best, mommy.”

You both shudder when you speak. He curses under his breath.

...

You need to be taken care of. Jing Yuan feels entirely confident in that fact as he lies with you.

You— deserve it. Maybe it is the pheromones affecting him, or maybe it’s just the way you’ve broken down and he can see how easily helpless you have become.

Desire looks good on you. Neediness, even better.

You squirm below him, pawing at him to come close. You can’t stand for him to be away from you too long. You had warned him about this, but truthfully he thought you were exaggerating in some sense. He knows now you absolutely were not, and his presence is required in his nest at nearly all times if you’re awake.

(When you’re sleeping, he manages to disentangle himself from you (however painful) to wash up and collect enough food and water from your little kitchen to last through the next romp.)

Jing Yuan holds a warm cloth in his hand, damp but not soaking. He rubs it over your inner thighs in smooth circles. There’s a caked layer of slick there, uncomfortably clinging to your skin. He’s certain that you don’t notice, but he feels better knowing he’s able to clean you up.

He peaks at your cunt while he does so.

You’re... warm. So warm between your legs, scalding, and still so wet. Puffy from all of the contact and friction, but he doesn’t note any immediately concerning abrasions. He’s been careful when using his fists. Your hole is stretched with heat and all of his tending.

He feels contented. Especially so considering you’ve settled and are close to dozing above him.

It’s a good feeling. He kisses over your navel.

...

When Jing Yuan fucks you for the first time, he lets himself be as reverent as he truly desires.

It’s only the two of you and the soft, lulling whir of your home’s scent locking system, several days into your heat. Nighttime stretches late with moonbeams that leak around your curtains. He doesn’t bother fully closing them now. He’s far too comfortable. You’re curled against his side, cheek laid against his breast. Your breath is smooth and slow with easy sleep. His own twins your pace.

The moon is good company for this particular type of peace.

It’s late enough that the orb of it is high, bathing the Luofu’s peaceful floral district in a downpour of silver. It looks nearly light out. It’s enchanting to see slivers of it, slicing into the stillness of your room in thin rays. One lays across your face, crossing the bridge of your nose.

(Jing Yuan would be lying if he said that it didn’t make him feel melancholic. The moon reminds him so easily of Dan Feng, the same way that the swathes of stars and inky cosmos remind him of Yingxing. He has no reason to mourn now, he has already done plenty, but he can’t help but feel the ache in the moon spray all the same.)

You stir. His scent must have changed.

“Jing Yuan,” you murmur, voice slurring and thick with sleep. “‘S okay— what’s wrong?”

You roll so you lay on top of him, propped up on your hands.

“Nothing important. You can sleep.” He tries to assure you, but the tone of his own voice is weaker than he means it to be. The lingering mourning creeps in.

You nudge your nose against his cheek.

“I don’t wanna,” you say the words into his skin with a kiss. “Not if you’re upset. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s alright, dear.” It really... is. He thinks so with some amount of confidence.

(Jing Yuan is so careful with his ghosts, so skillful in the way that he keeps them from those who cares for in the present. He doesn’t wish to share his grief anymore. The wounds have closed and all that remains is the occasional ache of scar tissue. That much he can manage on his own.)

“Nooo—” You whine with a nip. “You gotta tell me. Please?”

He concedes; you make it so tempting to.

“I’m only thinking about the past.” He sighs. The sound fills the room. “Nothing but bygone times, dear. There’s no reason to trouble yourself about it.

“... Are you thinking about your old mates?”

“Perhaps.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“The moon makes me fragile.” He admits.

You don’t respond. For a moment, he’s worried that you’ll be offended by his wandering thoughts. He is sharing your nest.

His worry is misplaced.

You straddle his hips and kiss him, soft and slow. Your thighs tighten around him as you urge him back into the sheets, drawing away only to press the kindest words into the cheeks.

“It’s alright to be fragile,” you tell him. An assurance of your own, given to him.

(Is it alright to be fragile? This thing with you, all of the newness of this dynamic and intimacy requires fragility to be shown. It’s vulnerable. Jing Yuan has been so, so careful with such things. To process his grief well and fully and still be a steadfast, unfailing leader. There’s a middle path he traverses well, but your new venture together is so different.)

He swallows. You kiss the swell of his throat with a hum.

Jing Yuan coaxes you into the sheets next to him, by his side. His hand slips between your legs. You gasp, so tender and sensitive after days of heat. You are fragile. In a similar way to him, but so different too. It makes something between his ribs shake. It’s wanting and craven in a way that feels foreign.

You cup his cheek then and kiss him. Your lips are so soft. The taste of you, the scent of you fills him as you lick into his mouth. Needy. You chase his cowardice away so easily. He breathes into your mouth with a happy sigh.

(There’s no alpha-driven drive for ownership in him. Just the need to have you be his because, you’re— you’re his baby. His soft, sweet thing that must never forget how cared for you are.)

You moan together.

Jing Yuan runs his finger up and down your sex. You’re soaked and sore, but wanting. So wanting, trembling next to him as you kiss him desperately. All little noises of desire, drenching him and the stillness of the room. The moon watches.

“Want you—” You say against his lips.

“How?” You may need his fist again. Or a toy. Or, something else.

“You,” you gasp, pulling away enough to cry out as he toys with your entrance. “You— you— you in me, please—”

You don’t need to beg, but it is cute that you do.

He shushes you with a kiss on your forehead.

“Me?” There’s a hint of mirth in his tone.

You huff and whine, “Y-Yes— I want— I want you inside me.”

“More than my hand.”

“You!”

“Use your words clearly, dear,” he brushes his nose with yours. “I’d hate to misunderstand what my baby needs.”

A shattered sound comes from your throat and you squirm.

“I—I—” You swallow. “C-Can you fuck me?”

Oh, he can.

“Of course,” he breathes the words over your lips. The ghost of the sound caught in the shaft of moonlight that paints your cheeks. “I’ll take good care of you.”

He will, he will, he will.

It’s not hard to coax you onto your back. Your thighs spread around his hips, leaving you open to his prodding. Omegas traditionally enjoy presenting on their knees for an alpha, but there are no pheromonal, instinctual urges here. Just the sticky kind of feeling that has you gasping as he presses two fingers into you.

There’s no need to stretch you; this is for pleasure. He curls his fingers for the sheer shake of carving out your insides with all of his desire. He rolls your clit with his thumb, practiced in the things you like, the things that have you rolling your hips and gasping for more.

His own cock is hard, stiff against his soft tummy. It leaks an excess of milky pre, dripping down his shaft. It’s obscene. He pulls away from your cunt only to pump his cock once, twice, smearing his fingers with pre. You make an aching, wanton sound as he pushes back into you. The mix of your drips down his wrist, down to your ass.

You moan his name and grab his wrist, “I’m ready— please—”

“Shhh,” he hushes. He kisses your protests away. “Mommy knows best, don’t you think?”

You nod, helpless to his influence. It’s cute. It’s molten in his hands and he wants it in his mouth.

He leans down to kiss your collarbones, then lower to your chest. Your nipples are peaked with your heat. He’s neglected them, truthfully. It’s an easy thing to rectify luckily. He kisses down until he has the right one in his mouth. He laps at the pearl of it, greedy. You cry out beneath him, wracked with pleasure, riding out what he gives you. You trust him so much.

Your hand winds into his hair and you pet him, as though he’s a big housecat. He can’t say that he minds.

He fucks you with his fingers as he switches to the other side of your chest. He sucks marks in his wake, to match all of the others he has left in various stages of healing.

By the time he pulls away, you’re panting, tears in your eyes, so close to coming it’s visible. Your core is tight, your jaw is slack and drool pools, wet, on your lips.

“My sweet thing,” he slips lower, licking down your stomach in a straight line. He rests his cheek on your inner thigh, breathing hotly over your cunt. The scent of you has him dizzy and pleased beyond belief. “I think you should come once I’m inside you, what do you think?”

Jing Yuan kisses your swollen clit with a teasing smile.

You make a helpless, confused sound as he draws away, deflating into the sheets. Fidgeting, you peer up at him as waits for your response.

“... If you think so, mommy.”

“Won’t it feel good?” He plies. “To come on my cock?”

“Uh-huh,” You nod.

Jing Yuan plucks a bottle of lube from within the folds of your nest. It’s unnecessary, but the effort matters. He slicks himself up, hissing through his teeth.

“I w-want,” you say, struggling to sit up with your shaking limbs. “I-I want you to c-come inside me— please?”

“Begging?” Jing Yuan can’t help the smile that grows over his features. His baby is so, so sweet. “For something I’ve already wanted to give you. So sweet, so good—”

You sob. It’s a helpless, fragile, sound. It sparks something in him, an urge that’s fast and immediate. You need tending, care— he kisses the sound from your lips with a quiet hush. A whispered ‘I have you, I have you, I have you’.

This position is vulnerable. Showing your stomach like this leaves you open. Unprotected. There are old wisdoms that say omegas present on all four to protect their most vulnerable parts— their primary scent glands and tummy. Despite the calm of the air, the softness of your nest, and the presence of a gentle, kind moon, you still look a little scared.

“I have you,” he reminds you, inches forward on his old knees. “You know that I do, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, mama—” You shake as the head of his cock rubs your clit.

He stifles a groan, and you outright moan, reaching for his arm, wrist, hand— anything to ground you. It’s so easy to grab your hand in his own, press it into the sheets, and slide into you.

It’s your first time— you’ve taken toys, his fist— but this is different. It cores you; he can tell by the way your hips jolt and your mouth goes slack. An ‘oh—’ is punched from the center of your chest, and you squeeze his hand.

His cock isn’t a stretch for you, but merely being in you hollows you out and lets him fill you up all the same.

“‘S good,” your voice breaks from your throat. “So good—”

Jing Yuan steels himself with a thick breath, slowly, slowly, grinding into you a little more with each thrust. Until with one last roll, he’s buried to the hilt.

You’re hot. He’s never fucked someone in heat. Aeons, he hasn’t fucked anyone in centuries, and he had forgotten how overwhelming the sensation of being surrounded by wet, hot bliss could be. He hangs his head low and tries to collect himself.

It takes a moment, then two, then three—

“Mama?” You ask him, soft and sweet as you cup his cheek. “C-Can you move? Have I been g-good enough?”

He whines, he hears his own sounds, and kisses you hard on the mouth as draws his hips back in the same motion. He speaks against your lips, “You don’t need to be good for me to have this. You deserve it— sweet baby.”

It’s easy to fall into this role, so easy. Too easy, in a perverse, indulgent way that nearly has him cumming with his own words but he collects himself enough to fuck back into you.

He sets the pace, slow and as deep as he can go. Each thrust is a punch to your insides, the angle of your hips has the head of his cock rubbing against your sweet spot perfectly. Tears drip from your eyes, down into your hairline.

The sight of you, below him, chest heaving, soft, melted, has him stopping, half-in you to steady himself. He nearly has to withdraw from your cunt entirely to circle the base of his cock his fingers just to stave off orgasm.

“Baby,” his voice shakes more than he has heard it do so for half a millennium. “It’s hard to last when you feel so good.”

You try to get out some snarky remark, something too mouthy and wordy for his baby, so he cuts you off with a swift thrust back into you. You dissolve. Your eyes scrunch closed and your back bends beautifully off your nest. Your grip flails from the sheets to him, and then back to the sheets as you attempt to ground on something.

(Him— you need to ground on him. Jing Yuan will take such good care of you. He’s filling you up, keeping you warm and well-loved.)

He deftly pulls your hand from the sheet and intertwines your fingers with his own. He brings you palm-to-palm, before pressing them down into the mattress. You make a shattered sound, all for him.

Drool seeps out of his own mouth. He kisses you, then, mixes spit with your own to taste you just as much as he feels you.

It feels like gluttony. An indulgence, to have you like this. He isn’t one to deny himself simple pleasures but this feels beyond ‘simple’. It’s complicated. Layered, something he’ll need to decipher and chew on when he’s more within his own faculties. When you are too, so he can consult you as much as is appropriate. Part of him wants to bar you from it. You shouldn’t have to think so much about it, you’re his baby—

You grow tighter around him, wetter. The sounds coming from your cunt and his cock are obscene. He’s leaking along with you.

Jing Yuan lets go of your hand. You whine. Cry. Something sad and shaking. Your eyes are bloodshot and teary as you scramble for him. Jing Yuan coos, little sweet things that drip like confections from his lips. He slides his hands up the backs of your thighs, to the backs of your knees, and anchors himself there.

He bears his weight down and folds you in half.

Your panic stutters, then stalls. Your jaw falls open.

It’s an instinctual thing for an omega in heat. To be pressed open like this, fucked open by a loving mate.

Your head tilts to the side and bears your scent gland.

And—

(Jing Yuan will not bite you. He wants to. He wants to so badly. Once you understand what that means, to have your mama’s bite on you in that way, then he can. He thinks you’ll want it just as much as he does.)

“Oh, baby—” His own voice sinks into a low groan as he pushes back in. “So beautiful for me. You know just what to do, don’t you?”

You whine and tilt your head even farther to the side. It almost looks painful. “Please, m-mama—”

He kisses over the spot your sweet, little heat brain wants him to. His hip cant forward pressed to the hilt. It’s enough that you come with a sob, your legs quivering under him.

“S-Soon, baby,” Jing Yuan can barely keep it together. He licks his lips, the remnants of you and him there. “I’ll make you all mine— all mommy’s, hm?”

“P-Please!”

Your begging is its own declaration. Your desperation, your helplessness, and the ways in which you are cutely feeble really have done something to Jing Yuan that he could never have expected. He doesn’t dislike it. The way he wants to care for you, feels attracted to the idea, and intimacy of that feels blinding, even if he doesn’t know all of the intricacies of it yet. He’ll find them out, along with you, by his side— in his lap— maybe on your knees— against his chest and in his nest—

There’s such certainty in your mutual desires.

Jing Yuan can’t— he can’t bear it—

He comes. The sound that rips from his throat is between a moan and a whimper of his own. Cracked and wet all at once as he presses all of his weight into you. He fills you up the best he can’t— omega cum isn’t very thick, more watery— but considering his own restraint, it’s plentiful. It spills out as he fucks you through his orgasm and the last dredges of your own.

You grab at his shoulders, tucking your own face as close as you can.

Jing Yuan can barely hold himself up as he pants to catch his breath. His knees shake as he rights himself just enough to but without fully slipping out of you.

His vision blurs as your scent surrounds him. He can’t help the smile.

He pulls away just enough for his cockhead to pop from your cunt with a gush of cum, tangling and connecting to him in strands. It’s— erotic. An image branded on the inside of his brain.

A shattered noise comes from you— in heat— unfull—

As quickly as he can manage, he wiggles his fist inside you.

It sates you immediately. Jing Yuan can’t help but coo as you go limp and gooey into your nest with a soft cry. Your chest still heaves, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You’re a mess. Debauched in all ways. And Jing Yuan got you that way.

It makes him feel unjustifiably prideful. A bit smug, even, if he were to be so transparent about it.

The feeling settles down into something... warming. Contentment that scratches an urge that’s both buried in his hindbrain and stitched into his soul, perhaps. A high that continues even as he settles next to you, tugging you snuggly against him as you happily shake through your ‘knotting’.

It’s easy to rest then. To bask and enjoy the heat, the stillness of the evening, the companion in the moon, and your honey-sweet presence by his side.

“Mommy,” you whisper into his cheek with a kiss. “Jing Yuan— t-thank you.”

“O-Of course.” He whispers back like he’s exchanging a secret. “I have much more to give you if you’ll let me, sweetling.”

Your breathe catches, eyes wide.

“Mama is spoiling me.”

“Mommy is giving you what you rightfully deserve.”

Before you can counter, he kisses you. Dumb and sweet all at once. You smile against his lips with a giggle that he eats in the next moment.

A morsel, all his own.

...

As your heat abates, your sweet dynamic grows. It has time to breathe and be more than a desperate connection born from the discomfort of your heat and his own need to tend. Now there’s just the honeycomb richness of a new desire that you both indulge. Test.

Now, you’re in Jing Yuan’s lap while he rests against your headboard. You’ve just finished sharing a bowl of rice pudding and red bean jellies. Jing Yuan has spoonfed you, as he is finding he very much enjoys. Partially because it is such a transparent act of care and also because he finds your vague indignation and fidgeting to be quite cute.

You’re still fidgeting, now, in his lap. Your legs on either side of his thighs, tense. His cock is buried in you, warm and steadily hard.

Your cheek lays against his collarbone. You’re settled there, comfortable after some initial adjusting. It has been your sheepish request that initiated your current lap-sitting and cock warming, but Jing Yuan can hardly complain. He’s quite pleased. Your cheeks are hot against his skin, though flushed now with embarrassment more than heat.

You huff, “M-Mama— Jing Yuan— Do you have to read that?”

He hums, teasing. “Why? Do you not enjoy my choice of story?”

Jing Yuan holds a small book in one hand, thumb pressed into the inner spine of it. He’d plucked it from the bottom of your nightstand while you’d been dozing and found the story quite... interesting.

It’s one of the raunchy erotica fictions that gets sold out of little carts in Aurum Alley. The cover is plainly pink, aside from the title “The Lion-Strong Lieutenant and The Fox-Hearted Maiden”. Jing Yuan had paged through it with some amount of uncontained curiosity. The story follows a freshly deployed (vaguely familiar) Cloud Knight lieutenant and a foxian healer on the front lines of a Hunt on a distant planet. It’s filthy, really. There’s smut within the first few chapters that he skims through. Decently written too. He can see why you enjoy it and keep it by your bedside.

When you rouse enough to notice that he’s reading, and what he’s reading, you’re mortified. You’d attempted to snatch the book away from Jing Yuan, but unfortunately for you, he’s quite a bit taller and in better shape than you are. He simply holds it above his head rather pleased with himself.

How his cock ended up inside of you is rather lost on him. You really do enjoy your perch in his lap, and at this point in your heat, being filled by something of any girth is more pleasant than being entirely empty.

Reading the book aloud to you is more for himself. Because you’re very, very cute when you’re so embarrassed and a bit shameful.

You hide in his neck and whine.

“I don’t t-think this one is meant to be read out loud...” Your voice wobbles like you’re going to cry.

“Why’s that, dear?”

“It’s... u-um, too dirty?”

“Hm,” he clicks his tongue, coaxing your head up so he can meet your watery gaze. “That may be true. Why was my baby reading it then?”

A nervous chirp clicks from your throat and you shift in his lap. His cock jostles in your cunt.

“Because—!” You huff. “It’s f-fun to read when I’m alone.”

“‘Fun’?”

It’s hard to keep himself from teasing you.

You squeal and squirm more, before tucking yourself close. You grow quiet, brooding as much as Jing Yuan will allow before intervening. He chuckles as you do, petting down the back of your neck, over your soothed scent glands, and down your bare spine.

He relents and sets down the book.

“Would you prefer a different story, dear?”

“... Y-yes, please.”

“That can be done.”

He hums and pets you, enough that you calm down and sniffle through the beginning of your tears.

Jing Yuan should’ve known his baby needs a story that is easier to swallow. Something less dirty—

(As if his cock isn’t buried in you. As if your cunt is fluttering around him whenever his hips so much as twitch.)

“P-Please, mommy?”

(Ah, how simply and purely you affect him.)

“Of course, dear.”

You don’t need to beg for this. Jing Yuan adjusts enough that you’re able to slouch fully into his chest.

He pets you while he tells you a story about something simple. Something easy. About a traveling merchant who falls for a witch on a lush planet. It’s a fable plucked from an immersia that Jing Yuan vaguely remembers from when he was young. It’s a good bedtime story, much better than genuine pornography.

His voice carries in your room, growing rougher and lower as sleep tugs at his own eyelids. At some point in his tale-winding, you begin to drag your lips up and down his neck, mouthing at his scent glands. It’s a silent plea for him to rest, to relax, and to exchange scent. Jing Yuan can intuit it from you so easily.

He ends up dozing along with you, words fading as you drool over his collarbone.

The last thing he does before fading into sleep himself is commit the stillness and peace of this to memory.

...

You clearly thrive under the specific type of care that Jing Yuan gives you.

‘Mommy’ and ‘baby’ do something good to your brain. It makes you float, and exit the spaces and feelings that make you so anxious and off-kilter. He knows that on a day-to-day basis, you can be quite fractious and unsure of yourself. (Your tears were the first thing that endeared you to him, after all). He can already tell that this dynamic is allowing you a specific type of respite from these anxieties.

Not having to think too hard is good for you. Jing Yuan thinks it is a good thing in general, and especially now, during your heat, something you’ve been so worried about before and during. He thinks it’ll be good for you afterward as well... if it’s something you’d like to continue.

(Jing Yuan truly hopes you will. He wants to.)

It’s a reprieve for him too.

You’re a precious, little thing that needs care that he can provide. You’re the only thing he needs to worry about then, too. He’s always latently aware of his greater responsibilities, it feels impossible to not be, but they feel further away when you’re snuggled closer to him with hazy eyes and a soft smile meant only for him to see.

There are different layers to this that he’d like to explore. Little bits and actions that he can see the appeal of, perhaps that he even craves, but he knows that they must be treated gingerly. This is new for both of you. And there’s truly no need to rush.

(There is, however, one thing that sticks in his mind in an unignorable way—)

(A curious desire, one he wants quite badly.)

Jing Yuan is propped up by a mountain of pillows, snuggled deep in your nest with a pastel, knitted blanket tossed over his legs. You’re on his lap, rump over his thighs with your legs curled up to the side of him. You’ve slipped quite low like this, your cheek pillowed against his sternum. It’s one of your favorite spots, he’s learned.

Two of his fingers are in your mouth, resting on your tongue.

This is one of your favorite things, he thinks. He thinks that it is one of his own as well. It may have started as a teasing action at first, during his own heat, something to wordlessly test the waters of this dynamic when it first began to present itself, but now it feels like something more weighted.

It’s a precursor at the very least.

You suck on his fingers lightly; you’re half asleep as you do. Drool shines on the corners of your mouth in a cutely messy way. He wants to lick it off. One of his arms cradles you, around your back with a hand tucked firmly against your waist.

There’s a temptation to push things a little... further.

It’s not an entirely chaste thought, though it’s hardly burgeoning on sexual. Jing Yuan supposes that the nature of your whole dynamic, really. The line between the carnal and the pure has been so blurred, it might as well not be there. It’s safe and intimate— refreshingly so. There is nothing more than it needs other than that.

Jing Yuan swallows, his mouth feeling dry.

You make little sound, the beginnings of a purr as you rouse enough to blink up at him.

“Dear,” he asks. “May I try something? You can stop if you do not like it.”

You blink at him a few more times, before nodding, your top teeth bumping against his fingers in your mouth.

(How trusting, how sweet, how pliant and good for him you— is what he desires to do next, not just a manifestation of that?)

He slips you lower, so your cheek is smushed up against his chest instead.

The ample swell of his breast is never something he’s minded. He’s always been a bit fuller than his peers, perhaps a lot these days, considering all of the deskwork he does has resulted in some weight gain around his middle. It’s hardly noticeable under his official costume and regalia; it looks more like muscle then.

Now, bare with you and skin-to-skin, his chest is round with muscle and soft tissue. His stomach rolls over, pudge covering the muscle he has maintained. He’s sure you feel all of it. He hopes it makes you feel safer, knowing that your omega can look after you in those ways too.

And Jing Yuan has confidence that in those physical ways, he can. The tender way he wants to explore is more uncharted.

He withdraws his fingers from your mouth and coaxes you into turning your face against his breast fully. Your lips brush one of his dusty pink nipples and he twitches. You freeze, glancing up at him with wide eyes. There’s only trust there, thick and rich and all his. Your scent is so warm now, so warm. You look back to his chest, going a bit cross-eyed, then back up to him.

You nose around his nipple before taking it into your mouth. Fully.

He gasps as you do— he’s— he’s sensitive. It’s not a place he really touches himself. The contact makes him stiffen up; both his spine and his nipple that is under your tongue. You freeze as he jolts, pausing, but not drawing away.

Jing Yuan takes a moment to steady himself, before petting down the back of your head, a wordless sign to continue.

And you do, because you are so good and you trust him so much. You lap around his nipple and suck without question, easily sinking back into the headspace that you both enjoy so much. You’re dutiful, at first, enthusiastic, but the fervor of it fades after a minute or two.

Instead, you relax even further. Your legs splay, heels sliding along the bottom of your nest. Your thighs fall open and a burst of your scent, both calm and aroused, floods the room. You lean all of your weight into him, seeking more as your eyes slip fully closed.

It’s good. So good to see you relax, to feel your against his chest. Jing Yuan is both sated and aroused all at once, his own scent turning as you suck. It’s... creamier, milkier. You seem to enjoy it, making a high, happy noise against him.

“Oh, b-baby—” His own voice shakes, just enough to betray his overwhelm.

You calm him by shifting somehow closer, sucking deeper and harder on his nipple. There will surely be a mark there.

Jing Yuan’s cock is half hard as you suck, and he can see slick begin to leak out from your cunt, stickying your thighs. He— he wants to touch you. To satisfy you even more. He reaches between your thighs, cups your sex, and rolls your clit with the two fingers that had previously been in your mouth. You gasp against him, suck harder, and moan.

It’s— it’s all debauched. Sensual yet so comfortable, Jing Yuan can’t help but luxuriate. The pleasure you’re exchanging exists only for pleasure's sake; neither of you feels hastened toward completion. Instead, it’s just this— you nursing on his chest and him playing with you just enough that your hips tilt and grind for more, but never to glut.

(Jing Yuan— part of him— he’s not even sure which part, wishes he could give you more than nursing. He wishes he could give you milk too. If he can’t fill you up with a knot, why not fill your belly up with his milk? He would like that. You probably would too. Warm and full and content against his chest.)

He feels— a little out of his mind about it. In a good way. Perhaps, if this is something you’d like to indulge in again, something could be done to make that a reality. Jing Yuan is sure he can make a few anonymous accounts and poke around forums for an answers. Perhaps call in a few favors at the Alchemy Commission, if it comes to that.

The desire for this— this dynamic that’s gratifying dynamic that’s growing and fleshing itself out in real time— has him ready to go the distance without question. He’s excited to.

It’s easy to be excited, with you content and within pleasure so deeply against him.

He’s quite excited for whatever comes next.

...

Your heat ends after nine days.

The last days of it are slow. Exhaustion has settled into both of you, and the intimacy you share is unhurried and lazy. There’s no fever to it, only the want for closeness amidst your own fatigue.

As post-heat creeps in, there is somewhat of a chill that’s spread over your home as well.

It’s a quiet feeling, one that neither of you addresses at first. Jing Yuan can smell it on you, and on himself, before he identifies clearly that something isn’t quite right. You aren’t mad, there is no anger in your scent or the way you carry yourself. Your words are not cruel, nor is their tone. If anything, it’s the opposite. You cling to him harder, squeeze closer, and beg for more of him whenever you can. Not for sex. You just want to be near him.

You sit in the bath together quietly, watching the rainbow-slick bubbles in tandem.

Your bath isn’t quite big enough for the two of you. Jing Yuan’s knees stick up just out of the water. Your own are nestled beside his as you sit between his thighs. You’re wiping a warm, soapy washcloth over his offered arm in little circles, a soft frown on your face.

You’re both very aware that this— you— will end soon. This state will.

Jing Yuan has a ship to head. He has taken a great deal of (abnormal) time off to accommodate your heat, which he has no regrets about. However, he is all too aware of the mountain of paperwork he’ll have to complete and the amount of catching up he will need to do once he returns. He’s been assured by Qingzu and Fu Xuan over text that the Luofu’s various affairs are being handled well and accordingly, and he’s sure that they’re doing a fine job at managing things in his absence—

But, he must take up the helm once again. Along with the full brunt of its responsibilities. Having you as his own does not change that.

Jing Yuan has never cared much for his image, not beyond managing perceptions that may be genuinely damaging to the stability of the Luofu’s denizens. As much as he has a reputation for loafing and lounging about, he’s reliable. No other Arbiter General has held this title for as long as he has and kept their ship as hale as he has. As much as he’s known to be a ‘Bachelor Alpha’ — he’s fairly certain taking you publicly as his omega will not damage his reputation, not in any meaningful way.

He worries for you though. Your station is lower. For as much of an eye as Madame Yukong keeps on you, and as much power he can exert, you will more than likely face backlash. Beyond already-buzzing rumors, he is certain you’ll face some amount of questioning from those around you. Criticisms. Both of you will undoubtedly face judgments as well. Jing Yuan is certain he’ll hear at least from the other Generals, if not the Marshal herself.

(The Divine Foresight, an ‘Alpha’, taking a simple administrative staff as his mate— it could be quite the scandal. If mishandled.)

(One thing at a time—)

You break the stillness of your steam-filled bathroom with a low hum.

“How’s this gonna work?” You ask. “... Mommy?”

“That’s a good question.” He kisses the back of your head, over your wet hair. You smell like the herbal shampoo you favor. “How would you like it to?”

“Please don’t leave this all up to me.”

“I’m not.” He squeezed your middle, hiding his own face in your shoulder. “I’d appreciate your perspective.”

“I figured you would have put it together already.”

“Oh?”

“I know how your mind works.” You bump your head into his own. “Or, I think I do. I, at least, have an idea of it. You’re always a few steps ahead of me, you know?”

“And how do you think that is?”

“... You know me before I even know myself a lot of the time.”

You’re more keen than you give yourself credit for. He ought to help you work on your self-esteem.

“Even so. I would like to hear your own genuine thoughts from your mouth, rather than my inferences and deductions.”

“Only if you tell me what you want too. Just as genuine.”

He nods, conceding easily. “Of course.”

You grab his hand in your own. Your thumbs roll into his palms, the ghost of a massage. “I... I like being... your omega. Your b-baby too, even if I don’t, um, quite know all the details of how it all works. Or if you know, either. But you know lots, so maybe you do. I dunno— I— it’s just—”

“Take your time, dear.”

You sigh and run your fingers over the pulse in his wrist. “... I don’t want to lose this just because my heat’s all over. I— I want to keep being yours.”

Thank Lan.

“The feeling is mutual,” he admits, smothering yourself with the fragrance of your skin. There’s melancholy in his tone that twins your own. “Very much so.”

“I’m glad.” You nose into him harder, more insistent for closeness. “I’m glad we want b-both want that. I’d... prefer we be somewhat private about it. I know that people are already talking about, um, us. I’m sure Li Ming has already been texting me about it. And I don’t necessarily mind people knowing that we’re together. I think it’s unavoidable, really.”

“I would agree.”

“But, I’d like this... this...” You hold your hands together, and dip his fingertips shallowly into his mouth, before withdrawing. “To be just ours.”

“I feel similarly.”

There’s any number of commonplace, and less commonplace, dynamics that exist on the Luofu and across the Xianzhou. Your budding dynamic, truthfully, isn’t all that odd given this variety (Xianzhou natives have certainly had a long while to cultivate them—). Regardless of this, Jing Yuan would prefer to keep things private unless... certain circumstances arise. And those can be talked about—

(If specific types of encouragement or discipline in conjunction with care is something you desire and something he thinks would be beneficial for you, there may be a place for some public showing of dominance and submission. But, that’s not relevant now. Not yet. The details can wait.)

“And um— well, you—” You squirm to look at him. Almost pouting. “Y-You can bite me. I-I want you to. Claim me, if you want. I know it’s not really gonna do anything but—”

“You want my mark?”

Jing Yuan feels light-headed with the knowledge. He assumed as much but still—

“Y-Yeah, really bad. It took everything during my heat not to ask for it.”

Jing Yuan would’ve been able to hold back if you had. But— it would have been... more difficult, had you begged. He’s weak for it, weak for you.

“I would like to leave my claim on you as well.” He has to swallow, clear his throat. “Not now, or during this heat of yours. I’d like to wait until we have a better moment established for it.”

“Something a little more preplanned ... Make it meaningful, yeah?”

“Yes, I’d prefer it that way.”

“I-I like that idea. Besides, it would be unfair for you to mark me and take my virginity during a single heat.”

His cock twitches. You clearly feel it as you grin, smother him with a smattering of kisses to his cheeks.

For all the details, all the little things to sort, and preferences to wade through, this is easy. The exchange of physicality and comfort is good. Jing Yuan— well— it’s not something he’s had in a long time. It’s not something he’s really craved either. Now, he feels greedy for it as you press a kiss to the apple of his cheek. He can feel your smile there, content and happy.

“I’ll take good care of you,” he tells you. It’s a confession and an assurance all in one. “Do you trust me, dear?”

“More than anything,” you say simply like you aren’t bearing your soul to him. Like you don’t hold the most fragile part of him in your own hands as well.

“I’m glad.”

Jing Yuan covets the exchange. He cherishes you and this dynamic and this new thing that has opened up for him after he has been convinced for so long that he’d subsist on silicone toys and scraps until Mara ate him.

There’s a hope in his chest, tended by more than kindling. It’s warm and full of comfort, just as you are, purring and content against his front.

“... What do you want?” You ask, soft, a little more timid. “I know you said you feel similarly, but I want to hear your thoughts too.”

Jing Yuan collects him, and the slow accumulation of thoughts he’s had in the past few days crystallizes behind his eyes.

“I would prefer not to hide you.” He admits, barely masking the tremble in his voice. “The nature of our relationship may remain private, as I said I’d prefer it that way as well. However, I’ll ask you to forgive me for my selfishness— I would prefer not to hide my affections for you.”

He squeezes you.

It’s not easy to confess. But he—

(Jing Yuan recalls the rumors of him and the High Elder fraternizing. And of the short-life craftsman that stole his heart. He didn’t mind it back then. He didn’t. His ego was much larger and younger. But, stealing kisses in the shadow of Aurum Alley and in the deepest, darkest sections of Imbibtor Lunae’s delve make him sad to think about now.)

(Jing Yuan thinks he is too old to hide himself so much. As adept as he has become in his inscrutability if you would permit him to be selfish—)

“I can accept that,” you reply. “I... I get a little nervous about it. But... you’ll take care of me, won’t you?”

You parrot his own words back to him. He slips his fingers in your mouth, as you both so enjoy. A reward. A treat. He can feel you grin around the digits.

“Of course.” He can shield you from the worst of it. “I would also like if you would mark me as well.”

“‘Bite ‘yu?” Your words are garbled on his fingers as you whip around to look at him. There are practically stars in your eyes as the water of the bath sloshes, bubbles foaming up to your shoulders.

“A mutual claim.” He confirms. “A visible one.”

“You’re ‘slure?”

“Entirely ‘slure’.”

Jing Yuan has thought about... perhaps in excess while your heat has been pittering out. It’s not unheard, but not traditional either. He doesn’t particularly care. He just wants your mark on him too.

An excited, trilling purr rips from your throat as you smatter his face with even more kisses. Insistent ones, that douse him in your scent. He can feel the elation thrumming off of you, and he can’t help but be soothed by it.

(Mutual want after so long still feels so foreignly good after so long starved.)

Jing Yuan gathers your face in his hands and kisses you, open-mouthed and long. His grip slips down your thighs, ass, waist— wherever he can squeeze and feel you most. Your hands land on his chest, groping there (a new favorite activity of yours—)

You pull away, breathlessly. Your eyes crinkle at the corner. The water is cooling, but Jing Yuan finds himself not caring all that much. The heat of you is enough. The warmth between you is a rolling hearth that keeps him toasty, through and through.

“I like you a lot, Jing Yuan.” You confess, nosing into his cheek. You speak your next words so softly, he hardly catches them. “‘Like you lots, mama.”

“Oh, baby,” his voice slips, so transparently full of desire it almost shocks him. He’s okay with the surprise. He may even want more of it, if it’s from you, especially if it’s from this. “I like you very much as well.”

So, so much.

//💦🌺💦//

You and Jing Yuan were right about many things. One being that rumors explode once you and Jing Yuan make yourselves a public item.

They’re entertaining, if nothing else.

“The Divine Foresight — Shacked up in his tenure.”

“The Lazing Luofu General’s omega smells like orange blossom and sea salt: FACT OR FICTION!”

“Knot: CONFIRMED! Does General Jing Yuan’s battle prowess carry over into the bedroom?”

“WHO IS THE DIVINE FORESIGHT’S OMEGA?! The latest scoop from Little Gui!”

The tabloids across the Xianzhou Alliance had already been publishing half-baked stories about the Luofu’s General’s omega lover who he keeps sequestered in a lush garden with specific security clearance in order to access it. But, the details were paltry and the photos they’d somehow acquired from your visits to and from the Alchemy Commission were quite blurry.

Now, however— the Divine Foresight has a claiming bite on his neck. And the omega on his arm has one as well. And the pair of them where matching courting bracelets around their wrists.

The stories they print are... wild. And for the first while after the news breaks, you’re bombarded by reporters and internet personalities, wanting the freshest, juiciest scoop on your relationship with the General. You always politely declined to tell them any details, providing them the (prefabricated and rehearsed) direction to contact ‘the Divine Foresight’s publicist’ with a provided contact number.

(Jing Yuan only revealed to you later that this was The Master Diviner’s contact, and she chewed each and every shameless, drama-mongering reporter so intensely that they dared not to attempt to chase either of you down again.)

The fanfare of it all fades rather quickly. A new reality sets in and you quite like it.

As much as you favor Jing Yuan’s first garden, the one that the two of you shared so many lunches in, you’ve become quite partial to his home. The spacious courtyard and its two massive ponds are your favorite features. The inside of his estate being lavish and increasingly homey doesn’t hurt either. You’ve started to spend most of your time there, sharing his nest.

You like it very much.

Jing Yuan does too, you think. He never wears scent patches at home, these days, even if it makes Yanqing dramatically crinkle up his nose and leave the room half the time. Jing Yuan tells you that he’s ‘just at that age’. Jing Yuan also tells you that Yanqing presented young. And that there’s a spitfire alpha girl under the wing of the Zhuming’s Flaming Heart who Jing Yuan thinks would make a good match for him. ‘Strings are being pulled’, he says.

Jing Yuan is always pulling strings.

Not that you mind it. You notice it, but it doesn’t bother you. If anything, being more keenly aware of Jing Yuan’s inner workings makes observing the way he moves within the world and the machinations he employs allows you to make more sense of him as a person. He holds such a heavy burden. And as much as you’ve known this for the entire duration of your friendship, courtship, and subsequent mateship with him, you’ve grown to have a new perspective on it.

You can see that weight more easily.

It’s why the dynamic you have together works. Jing Yuan can still strategize and control as much as he pleases but on a smaller scale. You think it must be very... nice for him to have you, his very sweet omega who is much easier to please than the many denizens and political factions of the Xianzhou Alliance. The control is still there, but in a different dose, played with within a different frame.

It’s been good to explore.

You like it very much too. You like... being his baby. Not thinking so hard. Feeling secure enough and trusting him enough to not have to look over your shoulder so often. He does take care of you very well, and you feel so very fortunate to have him.

You rub over the scar of your claiming bite absent-mindedly.

The day is quite young, and Jing Yuan has taken you out to a small shop just outside of the Alchemy Commission. The walls are lined with shelves, packed with stacks of neatly folded fabrics. A well-dressed vidyadhara has you up on a little pedestal, diligently taking your measurements as Jing Yuan browses through their selection. A censer hangs in an open window, burning a cool-smelling incense that wafts over the space.

Jing Yuan wants matching pajamas.

(Or, rather, you raised the idea and Jing Yuan is humoring you with such a great deal of enthusiasm that one would think he raised this want, and not yourself.)

It’s very cute to see Jing Yuan be so excited.

The omega, in full regalia, looks quite at home throwing a few bolts of fabric over his arm as another worker advises him on the best fabrics for this type of garment. He listens intently, despite probably already knowing a great deal of what the worker is telling him. It’s very sweet of him; at least you think so. The ribbon he wears in his hair bobs as he nods along.

You smile to yourself.

“What are your thoughts on a looser fit?” The vidyadhara asks from behind you. “I would recommend it, given the styles the two of you selected.”

“I would agree.” Jing Yuan says from across the shop.

The question wasn’t directed at him, but he answers for you regardless. This isn’t that odd for an ‘alpha’, perhaps some omegas would be a bit chuffed about it. But you like it. Especially like this. When you know Jing Yuan is spoiling you with a day out full of treats and presents and companionship and an evening that will certainly devolve into you, in his lap, with your mouth on his tits—

Jing Yuan hums from behind you, his voice breaking you from your very lovely fantasy. Your scent must’ve changed, however minutely. Your arousal is something for Jing Yuan’s nose only.

(You still don’t wear scent blockers. Lei Huiling heavily suggested that you keep it that way, in addition to the low-dose suppressants that you’ve been taking.)

“I-I like loose,” you say. “Loose is good. Can we get new robes too?”

“Of course. Perhaps a few sets of day clothes as well?” Jing Yuan has a new appreciation for loungewear. It’s a good use of the insane amount of capital he’s accrued over the years as General. Not to mention he deserves the comfiest and nicest garments for loafing about.

“Let me fetch a few catalogs,” the vidyadhara excuses themselves to the back of the shop, bustling about.

You stay atop the little podium as Jing Yuan comes around you, looking you up and down. He looks content as a cat splayed out in a sunbeam. He lifts your arm, inspecting it like he intends to measure you himself, despite having no sewer tape himself. He rubs his hands over your arms in circles, trailing upwards. Despite his wrists being covered by his vambraces, and below that scent-blocking patches, he still attempts to scent you.

(Such a possessive creature, really.)

“I’ve been considering,” he begins, “Commissioning a set of lingerie, perhaps. From a shop with a bit more discretion.”

“F-For me, or for you?”

“Either, or. Which would you prefer?”

You think about Jing Yuan in— in stockings, a well-fitted bra, and garters and your scent must change because he’s giving you a rich, full-bodied laugh a moment later and rubbing over your cheeks with your thumbs.

He teases, “How brazen.”

“You—!” You feel indignant and embarrassed all at once. A part of you slips lower, and you trust Jing Yuan to catch you. “You s-started this!”

“So I did,” he hums. “With an honest question. What do you think, dear?”

“U-Um—” You struggle to find your words. Acutely aware of the environment you’re in and distracted by the thought of perching in his lap in a skimpy robe and your own set of lace, it makes you feel dumb and wanting. “... B-Both?”

“I would concur.” He hums, pleased with himself. “I’ll do some research into it, hm? What do you think?”

“T-That sounds good to m-me.”

“Does it now?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod, grabbing his hands in your own, squeezing. A sunbeam warms your back and Jing Yuan warms you from the front. “It sounds very good.”

“And so it will be done.”

...

You and Jing Yuan giggle behind closed doors about the general public’s perception that he is an alpha.

Jing Yuan certainly has become good at acting like one. He has the posture and way of speech down. He’s larger and broader than most would think an omega to be, even if a decent amount of that is soft fat that you like putting in your mouth. He fights like an alpha too, but that’s from fighting plenty of alphas while training in his youth.

(His Master was an alpha, he tells you. She let him be an omega in private luckily. Jing Yuan speaks of it fondly, if not a bit wistful.)

When it’s just the two of you, he gets to act more like an omega.

Like you’re omegas.

It’s all the affection and stickiness you could want.

You’ve never had care like Jing Yuangives you— not from your alpha mother or your beta father. Not from the gaggle of friends you made while traveling through the Alliance, long before you settled on the Luofu. Not from the few alphas who attempted to court you, and the omegas you twirled with at the little clubs you enjoyed during your time on the Zhuming.

It’s different than everything you’ve had before.

You’ve had bits of it before, morsels that you could hold in your hands or on your tongue... but it never felt right. It never satisfied enough, or felt safe enough to indulge to the point of being satisfying. Flings at clubs were fun, but you never did anymore than kiss in dark corners. Your brief stint with your traveling friends were a handful of betas and a few alphas who treated you like something to be held like a trophy and paraded around, as much as a friend. Your mother— your father—

(They did not know what to do with a soft-hearted omega child. You think that they tried your best, but you know your mother resented— resents your presentation, even now. She tries in the ways that she knows how. There’s always a chunk of money in your account that shouldn’t be there at the end of the year. She made sure you had the best scent locking system available.)

(Empathetically, you can tell that she cares, and this is her way of showing it.)

(Yet, it doesn’t change the callous off-hand comments. You can’t find it in yourself to fully forgive her for trying to marry your off for two decades straight. Or, the way that she had last looked at you with your neck bare. Or, the comment that follows.)

(“Shouldn’t you be more careful? Alphas will think you’re a slut if you don’t mask that scent of yours. Why aren’t you using that body wash I sent you?)

(You haven’t seen your mother in years now. It’s for the best.)

Jing Yuan treats you well and cares for you in a way that you hadn’t fully known you’d craved. You are very thankful for him.

It’s a more comfortable type of care. Maybe, because it came about slowly. You had been dining with Jing Yuan over lunch for... several years, probably, before you shared a heat with him. Even if you thought he was an alpha, he has always been a safe alpha. His presence, even before all this, made you braver. So has Madame Yukong’s guidance and Li Ming’s friendship. You like being an omega. You like being an omega with another omega.

...

Nights with Jing Yuan are your favorite.

Jing Yuan has you underneath him, rolling his hips against yours. His cock is soaked, wet, and slippery as he grinds over your clit. His cunt pours slick onto your own as you match his pace, his rhythm the best you can. His weight is braced on his arms, folded on either side of your head.

He licks into your mouth as he kisses you stupid. Truly dumb, because you’re just his baby at this moment, and you don’t need to think too hard or do anything other than be a helpless thing in need of coddling. Jing Yuan gorges himself on you in these instances. He fucks his tongue into your mouth as he keeps you closed.

There’s no haste to this. Neither of you have the desire to be filled. You could— Jing Yuan will probably fuck you later, or he’ll put a harness and strap on you and ride you himself. But you don’t have to have that type of play for this to be enjoyable.

You just need him.

The taste on your tongue is just him. There are no alpha pheromones, just the sweet, sunshiney, milky scent of Jing Yuan that you’ve come to crave, and clamor for when you don’t have it for too long. It’s so good, you don’t mind suffocating on it. You want to.

“So good, baby,” he says into your mouth, pulling away just enough to press his fingers into your mouth.

He pushes them deeper than he does so casually. They stretch to the back of your tongue, nudging the back of your throat. You startle, just enough to whine, before he gives you a little ‘shhh, shhh, shhh—’. The broad plane of his free palm cup the case of your skull as he fucks your mouth.

The silver of his hair falls like a veil of moonlight around his cheeks. The gold of his eyes has been almost eaten by desire, pupils dilated so wide. Desire looks good on him. Want makes Jing Yuan bloom, and it makes you feel that much more content. It’s easy to go lax under his hands and let him fuck your mouth and pet over your tongue as he sees fit.

You like this so much. Being a cherished, sweet thing that’s both used and (loved) in equal measure. It’s safe. It’s good. He’s good, for all of the details and roles he must juggle, you know Jing Yuan is good.

Later, when you’re held against Jing Yuan’s chest, lazily sucking at his breast while he plays with your hair, you bask in the goodness of it. You giggle and laugh when Jing Yuan teases you, and huff when he presses you just enough. It’s reciprocal. A wordless, ever-moving exchange. Safety for safety, (love) for (love), even if neither of you has said the words yet.

That night, wrapped in the sheets, rising from your pleasant stupor, you study Jing Yuan.

You like him like this. His face is slack and relaxed. The painted purple circles under his eyes don’t seem quite as dark. The slope of his nose is gentler, and the pudge of his cheeks is more pronounced.

You soften for him. How can you not?

A honey eye cracks half-open and you squeak. You’ve been caught.

“Dear,” Jing Yuan’s voice crackles with sleep. He brings you closer with a thick bicep around your waist. “Should you not be sleeping?”

“Mommy,” you whine, smothered against his chest. “You look too pretty to sleep. ‘M just admiring.”

“Flattery won’t make up for a lack of rest.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true.”

He laughs above you. It’s a rough sound, good-natured, and all for you. You preen and nose into his jaw. You lap at the claiming bite you left on him, feel the divots of the scar beneath your tongue.

“Being so sweet to me,” he croons. “Is there something else you’d like?”

If you wanted more, you could have it. There’s part of you that itches to be warmed on his cock. Or warm his cock with your mouth. Or kiss until you quite literally can’t stay awake any longer. There’s a central idea to each idea that comes to mind.

“Just you.” You tell him.

You hear his breath catch. The thump of his heartbeat, fast, loud, and strong.

“That’s all?”

“Mhm,” you settle closer, into the safe heat of him. You let it envelop you. “I just want you.”

He squeezes around your waist, tethering you. It feels like a strong enough grip to weather most anything, from the roughest of your heats to the worst storms. You lean into it. Bask.

“My baby is so kind.”

“Just for you.”

“Just for me?”

“Just for you.” You repeat, and kiss him, soaked in moonlight and your woven scents.

part 1 link if you need 💕

thank you for reading 🩷

#lore writes #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr x reader #Y'ALL WE DID IT!!!#WE DID IT!!!#AAAAAH!!!#please please please enjoy #thank y'all readers for all of the asks and messages as i worked through this beast of a piece 🥹 sending FOREHEAD KITH!!!#now im running off to do chores :3c #MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

222 notes · View notes

heyimkana · 2 months ago

Text

Desiderium - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist | AO3 Link

Pairing: Yuuta Okkotsu X Female Reader X Satoru Gojo

Genre: Reincarnation AU, Marriage AU, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn

Summary: Set in Tokyo, Japan, you and Yuuta were past lovers separated by the cruel hands of fate. That same fate brought you to him again a century later, but while you hold no memories of him or the beautiful life you had shared with him in the past, Yuuta remembers everything. He's waited forever to see you again, yearning for your love, not knowing that you already belong to someone else.

Word Count: 13K+

Content Warnings: None for this chapter.

Art drawn by @alwhmd_ on Twitter (commission)

They discover a little game. It’s all Yuuta’s idea.

“To expand our knowledge and interest,” he says before bashfully adding, “A-and so we can know each other better.”

One of those reasons convinces her to play along. It’s never about the books.

The rule is simple: he’ll choose short literature for her to read for the day—whether it’s in the form of poetry or novel, matters not, as well as its genre—and she’ll do the same for him. They’ll share their thoughts afterward, and whoever can make the other feel entertained with their recommendation will win the game. Yuuta chooses not to place any bets despite her constant suggestions to make the game more interesting, but he says he’ll allow her to ask him to do something—anything—she wants if she manages to impress him with her choice.

I can work with that, she thinks, and so they play. They do it once a week if the novels are too thick to be finished within a day or two. But if it’s a short story, they’ll repeat the game as soon as the last one ends.

She always wins, but only because he lets her. She knows that. And she feels terrible asking someone as pure and gullible as Yuuta to do something crazy, knowing that he will indeed do anything she asks of him and possibly dying in the process, figuratively speaking. Maybe even literally, seeing how his body nearly combusted into flames when she simply asked him to stop calling her by her surname.

“It’s been weeks since we first met, Yuuta. Isn’t it about time?” She had argued then. “Aren’t we close enough to be on a first-name basis now? It doesn’t feel fair that I’m the only one calling you this way.” She left him no room to escape.

He needed a few seconds to gather the courage, but he agreed. Her name flowed past his mouth, and it sounded exactly the same as the way he called her in the dream, so naturally as if he had been calling her that way for years, like a soulmate to another. She asked him to continue referring to her with her first name, saying they sounded more like friends that way. She did not mention a word about how warm and giddy he made her feel inside with every call of her name. He didn’t need to know; it was already dangerous as it was.

She’s stopped trying to win the game since then, deciding it would be funnier—and easier on her heart—if she played tricks on him instead.

So, today, she plays Yuuta’s innocent game with her wicked mind in charge, selecting a story that is too long to finish in three hours and too absurd for his mind to comprehend. “This book got me through some tough times,” she says, a complete lie. She hasn’t even read it, not once. She’d simply looked it up online a few minutes before, secretly grinning like a devil as she skimmed through endless terrible reviews from readers who were disgusted by the chaotic plot and even messier ending. The more bad reviews it got, the better, so she decided it was perfect for her to recommend. “Sharing this with you is like sharing my deepest secret, Yuuta, so please. Read it. It’s very important to me that you like it.”

Poor Yuuta nods with all his heart. He’s excited, super excited, probably thinking he’s on his way to a new adventure to understand her better, only to be frowning and glancing at her with concerned eyes for the rest of his reading session. By the time he’s finished with it, she asks him for his opinion.

He looks genuinely concerned for her. She’s having the time of her life.

Yuuta, on the other hand, is always so meticulous in choosing what to recommend. Whenever he finds something interesting, he does a quick research beforehand to make sure it’s universally loved instead of a simply biased opinion. He’ll be so nervous about it, too, adorably so. “I’ve read this before and, umm… The ending is pretty satisfying to me, and it got me wondering what could have been if—no, I shouldn’t spoil it, just, umm, just give it a try? Please? I think you’ll enjoy it.”

She takes the book away from his hand, scrutinizing the cover.

He winces, “The cover doesn’t say much. Please don’t judge it from—”

“Yuuta, will you relax?” She laughs. “I’ve read books before; I know the rules. I wasn’t judging it from the cover. I was just reading the author’s name.”

“Oh… Okay…”

“Yukio Mishima… Hmm… Why does his name sound familiar to me?” Her eyes skate through the first page, moving from one passage to another. “His writing style, too. Have you recommended his other works to me before? I swear I’ve read it somewhere. I can’t remember it.”

Yuuta’s jaw clenches before he forces out a smile. “Have I? I don’t remember. He is my favorite author, though, so… Yeah, maybe.”

She looks at him. There’s something he’s not telling me. Since he doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, she has no choice but to end it with a shrug. “Okay. I’ll read it.” She heads towards an empty couch, snickering. “If this ends terribly, you’ll have to buy me dinner.”

Yuuta chuckles, adding a hushed, “I would’ve done that every day had you let me.” She misses it. Clearing his throat, he replies a bit louder, “If it exceeds your expectations, will you go somewhere with me after this?” She stops in her tracks, turning her head around to face him. He understands the silent question—and the slight worry—shimmering on her face. “It’s not a date, I promise,” he says, although regrettably. “I just…” He tucks his hair behind his ear, another part of his mannerisms that she finds incredibly endearing despite how simple it is.“There’s this place I’ve been wanting to take you to.”

He seems anxious, waiting for her response, blatantly so that she feels sorry for taking a few seconds to think. “Sure,” she replies with a small smile. After all, it’s his first time putting effort into the game instead of letting her win all the time. “But you have to know that I have huge expectations on this. It’s your favorite author, after all. I gotta judge thoroughly.”

“Yeah.” Relief washes over him. “Yeah, okay.”

Two and a half hours have passed since then, and Yuuta waits with bated breath as she closes the book’s final page. She places it on the round wooden table between them, pushing it toward him. She remains mute.

Searching her face and desperately trying to understand what goes through her mind, he asks, “H-how was it?”

To his surprise, she stands up without a word, gathering all her things at once and sliding her arms through the sleeves of her coat. “So.” She plunges her hands into her pockets, huffing out an air. “Where will you be taking me?”

He blinks.

Then he turns the happiest he’s ever been.

***

“I can’t believe you only asked me to go to a ramen shop with you,” she mutters as they stroll along the pavements, breathing in the evening breeze that tickles their cheeks. They don’t have places they plan on going, not really, not after they have their stomachs full, but neither of them is willing to bid farewell just yet. They enjoy being in each other’s company, silently wishing for the hours to dance slowly between them. “Making it as a bet…” She snorts. “You know you could’ve just asked me to go, right?”

Yuuta titters, “Where did you expect me to take you?”

“I don’t know, a charity gala for the homeless, maybe? You made it sound like a big deal.”

“I’ll take you to the gala next time,” he jests. “Did it, at least, suit your taste? The ramen?”

They have come across an intersection, fitting themselves between the other pedestrians while waiting for the crossing light above them to turn green. “Hmm, could improve a little bit on the broth, I think,” she says. “That tonkatsu topping was a killer, though. I’m drooling just thinking about it again. I’ll give it nine out of ten just because of that.”

He smiles, primarily to himself. And as she peers at him from the side, she mirrors it, too. "You have that look on your face again."

"Pardon?"

“Every time you managed to make me smile, either by recommending a good book or getting food or drinks that suited my taste, you always looked so happy. It’s as if my joy is your joy. And I think the world would be so much better if everyone acted like that. Just, you know, making each other happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as kind and gentle as you are. Thought it was all an act at first, but," she chuckles. “You really are the sweetest person I’ve ever met. I’m glad we could be friends.”

Her lines startle him enough to turn his body into ice. Did I say something wrong? She questions herself. “Yuuta? You okay? I wasn’t being too much, was I?”

“N-no.” He loosens his collar, fire licking his cheeks. “I, umm... I don’t think I’m that kind of person at all. It’s just... When it comes to you, I…” His sentence dies before it meets its end; too distracted to finish it. His eyes stray away from her face as his ears pick up on words murmured by a couple of strangers nearby.

With her brows drawn together in curiosity, she follows his gaze, turning her head slightly so as not to appear so obvious. She spots two men in matching red varsity jackets sneering behind her, also waiting for their chance to cross the road, it seems. The college boys are standing a safe distance apart from her but close enough for them to catch a word or two of their conversations had they listened closely. Even if they can’t hear them, the way they’re smirking while stealing glances at her body clearly indicates what they’re conversing about.

She grows uncomfortable, turning self-conscious of her appearance. There’s nothing unusual about what she’s wearing, just a simple pair of jeans and a sweater underneath a coat, and yet, the two men make her feel as if she stood there in the nude. Her hand moves to adjust her jacket to cover her body better, feeling embarrassed despite it not being her fault. She feels powerless, failing to protect herself from being seen as an object. And to have this happening in front of Yuuta somehow makes it ten times worse because—

She doesn’t get the chance to finish her thought, her eyes widening in surprise when she feels Yuuta’s hand sliding around her waist. He pulls her close without warning, erasing any distance between them and nearly causing her to land face-first on his chest. She looks up at him, face flushed. “Y-Yuuta, what—”

She stops, staring at Yuuta with parted lips.

This is not the man she knows.

Anger pulses through his veins, and robs the gentle light out of his eyes—a glare so cold that it changes his whole demeanor. Had she known that Yuuta could display such an expression on his face, she wouldn’t have described him as kind and gentle a moment ago. The look he has in his eyes right now… It makes her blood curdle.

Staying still in his arms, she notices the way Yuuta maintains his eyes on them, like a protective wolf watching over his pack. She never thought a menacing stare like this would be such a good look at him, but it is. It charms her, her mind drifting off on its own, wondering if he would be this possessive over her if she were his. The thought doesn’t scare her as much as it excites her.

It doesn’t take long before she hears the boys clamp their mouths shut behind her, followed by rustling sounds of footsteps that grow fainter with every second passing by. She can feel his muscles unwinding, but the darkness in his eyes remains as deep as an endless void.

“Umm… Yuuta?”

At that, he snaps awake. “Oh, s-sorry!” He quickly backs away, letting her stand on her own feet. He’s back to the awkward, diffident person she knows, his face turning crimson without any chance to blame it on the cold wind. He bows his head in apology, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m so sorry for suddenly grabbing you like that, I—” He takes a breath. “I won’t touch you without your permission again. I promise.”

The way he acts… It makes her wonder whether he feels like he’s just as terrible as the two men before for doing something without her consent. “Thank you,” she says, tugging onto his sleeve to make him lift his head. “I got the feeling they were staring at me. I wouldn’t have done anything about it ’cause, well,” she tries to make light of the situation by forcing out a chuckle, “It happens all the time if you’re a woman. I just feel… a bit ashamed that you saw that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says, staggering her a little with his solemnity. “No matter what you wear, what you don’t wear, what you say, or how you behave, it’s never a woman’s fault to have men act that way around them. It’s our fault. So, never feel ashamed about it. They should, but not you.”

He truly is kind, she concludes in her mind. “For someone with a heart of an angel, you can be really scary sometimes. Those guys were huge, and there were two of them. I didn’t think you had it in you to glare at someone like that.”

“I—I didn’t realize I looked like that. I just wanted them to stop staring at you.” His face distorts in worry. “Did I… scare you?”

He probably would have, had she not seen this version of him in the dream already. But compared to how infuriated he looked when he faced Naoya Zenin, this one was nothing. “No, just surprised. In a good way,” she adds with a little smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone do something like that for me before. Satoru usually just told me to ignore them. So, thank you, really. I felt like I was in a shoujo manga therefor a second,” she chuckles before she notices the blinking lights above her. “Oh, the light’s green. Let’s go.”

She crosses the road with him trailing closely behind her, not realizing the changes in his expression. The mention of her lover’s name usually paints a sad color on his face, but tonight, it glows dark red.

***

They enter a coffee shop Yuuta recommended, a sudden change of agenda since the usual place they visited is closed for the day. She disrobes herself from her coat, plopping herself on her seat with a huff. “That was a long walk. I’m gonna feel it in my legs tomorrow.”

Following behind her with a tray in his hands (he insisted on carrying their orders despite her wish to help), he checks on her with concern. “Are you okay? See, that’s why I suggested we take the bus. The restaurant was too far away from here.”

“Well, sorry for wanting to take my time with you,” she pouts. “Was I the only one who enjoyed our long chat on our way here?”

“No, of course not!” He pales. “I enjoyed every second of it! I was just—”

“Relaaax, I was just kidding,” she simpers. “If my legs are still sore tomorrow, you’re paying for my massage.” She takes a sugar cube, watching it dissolve inside the cup as she stirs it with her teaspoon. Before she can take a sip, Yuuta drags the sugar bowl in her direction. “What?”

“You need more sugar than that. Try two more?”

“You think I can’t handle my tea?”

“It’s not that.” A peal of laughter escapes him, a bit tenser than usual. She wonders what he’s trying to hide. “I’ve had that before, and it’s a bit too bitter compared to what you usually have.”

“And how would you know how I like my tea?”

He freezes. “I don’t. I’m—I’m just guessing.”

“Uh-huh,” she narrows her eyes still. “Well, as much as I appreciate your concern, my good sir, I can handle my tea just fine.” She takes a sip, about to wince when the bitter taste hits her tongue, but she acts unfazed. “See?” She smacks her lips. “I’m fine.”

Yuuta watches her with adoration in his eyes as if trying to prove him wrong was an adorable habit of hers that he’s always loved to see. “You sure?”

It’s too tempting, and she’s only human. “Okay, fine, maybe one more.” She plops in another cube, stirs it, takes another sip, and it’s still too bitter.

Biting his lip to suppress his grin, he nudges the bowl again. “It’s still here if you want it.”

She can’t hold it anymore. Her mouth still feels like she just munched a handful of saffrons. “But two would be too sweet,” she says, yet she drops another cube into her cup. The second her tea hits her tongue, she blinks. It’s the perfect balance. “Huh…”

This time, he doesn’t tone down his grin. “Told you two would suit your taste.”

“Okay, you’re way too good at just guessing things,” she makes an air quote with her fingers. “How do you know so much about me? Are you my stalker?”

That wipes off his grin almost instantly. “N-no, of course not! Why would I—no!”

“I don’t know, Yuuta, that sounds exactly like what a stalker would say.” As he panics, she beams at him with a cheeky grin, and at that, his rigid muscles turn loose.

“You’re just teasing me,” he sighs in relief.

“A little,” she giggles. “But seriously. What is it? Am I that easy to read? Have I met you before?” She throws her options mindlessly, but her last question strikes him hard enough to have him perched still in his seat.

He tarries, cogitating on his response. “Do you… feel like you’ve met me before?”

She frowns, clueless as to what he’s indicating. Her heart wants to say yes, shout it out loud even, but a dream is just a dream, and it would be ridiculous to mix it up with her reality, wouldn’t it? No matter how real it felt.

“I think I would remember you if I’d met you before, Yuuta.” She chuckles lightly when adding, “You’re not easy to forget.”

She means it as a compliment, but Yuuta reciprocates with loneliness fleeting through his eyes. He separates his lips, eager to say all the feelings he’s bottled inside, but he clamps them shut before he can, dragging his gaze to his lap. “You’re right.” And yet, you did, his body seems to say. You’ve forgotten all about me.

Perhaps she’s just imagining things, or maybe she’s beginning to be as good as he is in reading his expressions, but her heart aches for him. Before she knows it, she reaches out, covering the back of his hand with her palm. “Yuuta,” she sounds soft, softer than ever, afraid to break the paper-thin glass he’s built around him. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

His eyes shake, his face contorting in sorrow, the kind that comes straight from the heart. The silence between them, despite briefly, suffocates enough to the point where it feels like both of them are holding their breaths. The answer is clear: yes, there is. A secret I’ve been dying to tell. She knows that. She just has to wait until he’s ready to come clean with it. But today is not the time.

“No.” Yuuta retracts his hand, running away from her touch. “Just like you said, we’ve never met before.”

Then, why do you act like we have?

“But I promise you, I’m not a stalker.” He keeps his smile intact as always, but it feels foreign. Unrecognizable. Empty. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but you often share details about yourself when you talk. I just happen to pay attention, that’s all.”

Her jaw tightens. “I see.” It’s no use trying to force an answer out of him. What if I end up hurting him even more? Or scare him away? She leans back on her seat, sighing. “Well, you must have an excellent memory, then.”

His gaze falls to the silver ring around his finger, the same one he wore around his neck on the day they met for the first time at the library. “Yeah.” He clenches his hand, bringing it down to his lap. “You can say so.” ***

The clock’s ticking in silence, an eerie companion to the faint note of her breathing.

Her apartment appears much more spacious than she remembers now that Satoru isn’t here. The absence of his voice and the constant clicking sounds of his keyboard feel almost unsettling, but it never perturbs her as much as the fact that her heart doesn’t clench in loneliness or emptiness, even when she stands here alone with nothing but the dull, white walls staring back at her.

It should’ve, right? And yet, it doesn’t.

Her beating heart only seeks attention, searches for affection when Satoru is here, sitting right next to her. And accepting that thought terrifies her more than being alone.

Her boyfriend hasn’t come home since last afternoon. He hasn’t given her any notice nor made any effort to ease her worry. It’s not something new. She’s grown used to it. Maybe Satoru assumed they had remembered and understood each other’s schedules by now, which is true, but still, a message would’ve been nice.

The last text she received from him was around nine PM when she questioned his whereabouts, growing more worried about the dinner getting cold instead of his nose turning red from the evening breeze.

Still out with some friends. Don’t wait for me. - Satoru

She didn’t. The same way he didn’t thank her—or apologize—for the supper she’d taken an hour to prepare.

I thought you said you’d come straight home after your meeting tonight, she typed down her reply before choosing to erase it. There was no merit to gain from arguing about it. Satoru would never change.

Okay, she responded instead. Be safe.

He left her on read.

Re-reading his dry text message causes her thoughts to drift back to Yuuta, realizing just how different they are even when her mind begs her not to compare. It saddens her that her lover pays no heed to her well-being or her feelings, not taking a minute of his time to check whether she came home safely last night.

While her friend, on the other hand…

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Yuuta asked for the nth time that night, still reluctant to bid her goodbye even after he escorted her all the way to the station’s gate.

“Yuuta, I’ll be all right,” she chuckled. “I’ve taken this subway more than a hundred times already.”

“I know, but after seeing how those guys stared at you…” He exhaled restlessly. “How far is your place from the station?”

“Just a five-minute walk.”

He contemplated, mulling over the risks before he eventually let his muscles unwind. “Okay… But if you feel like there’s someone following you—”

“I’ll tell them, ’Excuse me, Sir, I already have a stalker of my own, and he’ll kill you before you could even lay your hands on me,’” she ended with a gleeful grin.

He pouted. “I’m actually worried, you know.”

“I know.” She replaced her amusement with gratitude this time. “Thank you, Yuuta. Really.”

“Will you, at least, text me when you get home? I need to know you’re safe.”

“I will.”

And she did, punching buttons on her phone screen with a giddy heart, her lips stretching from ear to ear, as soon as she arrived at her apartment.

No stalker in sight, Okkotsu-san. Only you. PS: Yes, Mom, I’m already home.

To which he responded with, “Thank goodness you’re safe.” No silly remark came from his side, no cute scoldings for her chaff. He was just genuinely concerned and now, relieved.

It felt… nice to be at the center of someone’s care and attention. She had forgotten that feeling a while ago.

Her phone screen suddenly flashes as she dwells in the memory, notifying her that it’s ten minutes to nine. Yuuta’s name flickers back through her mind. They had promised each other a few days before that they would attend a book festival this morning. The thought of meeting one of her favorite authors and getting her book signed certainly arouses her excitement, but it doesn’t ignite as much sparks as the thought of spending not only a couple of evening hours together but the entire day.

Spending the whole day with Yuuta…

A smile resurfaces on her lips, but she refuses to acknowledge it.

There’s only an hour to spare before then. I should get going.

Just as she collects her coat, the front door clicks open. Satoru steps inside with his black shirt unbuttoned nearly halfway to his chest, his tie unfastened, dangling loosely around his neck. As he fumbles around, trying to maintain his balance, he notices her standing near the kitchen counter. “Oh, hey, baby,” he greets her with a drunken smile, his eyes half-lidded. “I’m home.”

“Welcome… back…” She scrutinizes him with a frown. “Satoru, what—are you drunk?”

He giggles, a clear answer to her question. “Just a little.”

Satoru has always been weak when it comes to alcohol. There were many occasions back in their college days when he ended up doing foolish stunts with liquor in his system, and yet, he never learned. “I thought you promised me you’d never drink again.”

“That is true,” he simpers, teetering toward her spot. “That. Is. True.” He taps a finger against her nose with each word spoken. “But, listen. I was ready to go home after my meeting, but then I remembered, oh yeah, Haibara’s got a new place. And it was close by from where I was, so I thought, you know what, let’s drop by for a while, and so I did. I figured it was only going to be about half an hour or so, but man, he was so happy to see me. You know how he is, right? He’s always happy. Haibara was all like, Dude, we should invite everyone to come and hang with us, and the next thing I knew, a bunch of people came. Shoko was there. Ijichi was there, but fuck Ijichi, nobody cares about him. Anyway, Suguru brought this sake he got from Tohoku, or whatever, and God, baby, it tasted sooooo goooood,” he slurs out the words, leaning his body weight on her as he buries his face in her neck. “I was only planning to stay for a bit, but… couldn’t resist a good sake.”

“Satoru,” she tries to pry him away, her face scrunching as the revolting scent of alcohol fills her nose.

“Honey Bunny, please don’t be mad. I only had, like, three glasses, I promise. Or five. Or maybe ten. Shit, I can’t remember,” he chuckles, the sound muffled by her sweater. “This is probably why I shouldn’t drink, huh?”

She’s fighting to stay on her feet, struggling as his weight weighs her down. “Did you get home by yourself? Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

“I would’ve, but my phone died,” he nuzzles his nose against her clothed shoulder, acting spoiled to win her mercy. “And no, I didn’t. I got some girl driving me home.”

The news stings her like needles piercing through her skin. She pushes him away by the chest, glaring. “What?”

“Hmm?” He blinks idly. “Oh, no, don’t worry. We didn’t do anything, trust me. I don’t even remember her name. She was the only one with a car, told me she’d drop me at our building, so I hopped in. I didn’t think much about it.” He places a finger below her chin, tilting it up to have her meet his gaze. “What?” Satoru questions, one corner of his mouth rising higher than the other. “You jealous?”

Is it… really jealousy, she wonders. Or is it just a plain, vibrating anger that emerges from not being respected, appreciated, or seen and remembered by the person who’s supposed to care for her the most?

“Babe, come on,” Satoru laughs. “I’m a faithful man. You know I am. I’ll never cheat on you.” Dismissing the resentment shimmering in her eyes, he strokes her hair, bending his head down until his smile ghosts over her lips. “And you’ll never cheat on me, too, right, Bunny?”

She freezes. In the split second before he closes the gap between them, her mind tries to understand why his question causes a guilty conscience to swell in her chest. She has neither done nor is planning to do anything like that. Yuuta is just a friend. She should not feel guilty about meeting a friend. No, if there’s anyone who should feel that way around here, it should be Satoru. Just look at him. He easily took a stranger’s invitation to climb into her car and had the nerve to giggle as he told me about it.

But she can’t deny it—this guilt that’s swirling inside. Her heart still echoes it every time Yuuta’s name passes through her head.

You wouldn’t feel this happy if you were just meeting a friend.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous,” Satoru traps her chin between his lean fingers. “Wish you could show this side of you more often.”

She throws her face to the side, avoiding her lover’s kiss just in time. “Next time you’re this wasted, Toru,” she maintains her distance, stepping away with a scowl, “call me.”

“I told you, my phone died—”

“I don’t care. Use someone else’s phone. You can’t just get inside a stranger’s car like that. It could’ve been dangerous.”

Somewhere, deep within the labyrinth of her mind, a voice reminds her how similar, if not worse, her past actions were to what she chastised him of. Going to a coffee shop with a stranger… Spending hours talking, revealing parts of her that she shouldn’t have… Sharing food and laughter, wishing for time to move slower…

I’m a fucking hypocrite.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Satoru sneers, wrapping his arms around her waist. Getting such a reaction out of her seems to delight him as she usually just nods and forgives him for everything, assuming it would take more energy out of her to bicker over it. “Why didn’t you come to the party anyway? Everyone was there.”

It only exhausts her further to push him away when he weighs more than he can handle. She faces the other way, avoiding his breath as much as possible. “I didn’t get any invitation.”

“What? But I sent you one.” He furrows his brows, trying to remember. “Wait… I did, didn’t I? I swear I texted you.”

“You didn’t even tell me you had plans after the meeting. I prepared dinner for you.”

“Oh, well.” He leans backward a little to give her a playful pinch on her cheek. “Guess we’re a bit lacking in that department, huh? Communicating, I mean. It’s been a while since we last talked. How are you, baby? What is my little kitten up to these days?”

To have her boyfriend finally paying attention to her after so long should delight her, but she feels nothing, knowing that he won’t take any information into his head in this condition. It will be a waste of time for them both.

And I have no time to waste, not right now.

“You need to catch some sleep.” She places a hand on his chest, sighing. “We’ll talk after you sober up.”

“I’m not that drunk—”

“Rest, Satoru,” she stresses firmly, trying to keep the sound of her impatience to a minimum. Stepping away, she turns around to collect her things from the counter. “I’ve made you some French toast and eggs for breakfast. They’re on the table. There’s plenty of food for lunch in the fridge, too. You can just heat them up later.” Slinging her purse on one shoulder, she gathers her key. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, where are you going?” He catches her hand, tugging her body back toward him. “It’s the weekend, isn’t it? What are you in such a rush for?”

His question brings her to a halt. She knows she’s in haste since she’s running out of time, but is she so eager to get away from him to meet another man, one that her boyfriend has specifically mentioned to stay away from?

“I’m—” She clears her throat, shredding the thoughts to pieces. “I’m not rushing.”

“Are you meeting someone?”

“No,” she lies, and it shocks her how fast and how easily it slips out of her mouth before her mind can decide. She shouldn’t have lied. There was no reason to lie. Why did I lie? She wants to correct it, but taking it back now will only make her sound… suspicious.

“W-what?” She asks out of agitation as she catches him staring down at her, examining her as best as his inebriated state allows him to. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Something’s different about you today,” he replies, crossing the distance between them. “Is it…” He investigates with unfocused eyes, too sleepy and intoxicated to process quickly. “Is it your hair? Did you cut it?”

“Umm… Yeah, I did.”

“Aha!” He exclaims, almost victoriously. “Don’t think I didn’t notice it. When?”

“Four days ago.” She’s grown used to this, too, to have the changes in her appearance—the changes in her world—remainunnoted in his eyes. The reason why he finally realizes the difference today is because she’s styled it differently.

Instead of letting her hair brushed and tied up in a simple bun, she decided to put more effort into it this morning. Taking inspiration from her appearance in her dreams, she wore half of her hair down and weaved the rest of her strands together, forming two lace braids that circled her head like a crown while the rest cascaded gracefully past her shoulders. Just like on the night when she shared a kiss with the beautiful boy by the beach, she completed the look with a kanzashi her mother gave her, a golden ornament in the shape of cherry blossom petals. She felt pleased seeing her reflection in the bathroom mirror, admitting to herself that this style suited her better than her usual one. A certain charm exuded out of her, a sense of femininity that she never bothered to showcase before.

“I’m trying on a new hairstyle,” she says. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

“Hmm…” He squints his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. “Fuck, I can’t remember what your hair looked like before,” he gives up with a laugh. “It doesn’t look bad, don’t worry. I like the hairpin. And your dress… You look nice.”

She doubts he means it this way, but in her ears, just now, Satoru sounded as if he was asking who are you dressing up so nicely for? “Thanks,” she replies awkwardly, dropping her gaze to the floor. “This is how I usually dress, though.”

“Really?” He steps forward, cornering her against the kitchen counter as he parades his smirk. “Then, I should’ve appreciated you much sooner.” Burying his face in her neck, he has his hands roaming her sides, sliding down from her waist to her thigh. “And you smell so good…”

“Satoru.” She lands her grip on his shoulders when he bends down to pick her up, trying her best to halt his movements, but to no avail. He places her on the counter, his movements still wobbly but sure and forceful enough when he pries her legs open for him. “No, wait—”

“Pretty.” He takes possession of her mouth, his hand holding her firmly by the back of her neck. “You look so fucking pretty today, baby.”

“Stop—mmph—” With her protest being swallowed by his kiss, she resorts to using her strength, placing both palms on his chest, trying to push him away as much as she can. But it only excites him, thinking of it as a little game.

“You’re fighting back? That’s hot,” he chuckles lowly. His desire to control and consume her paints a new shade to his hazy eyes. “Do your best, Bunny. Be rough with me.”

He takes it as a challenge, more lust brimming in his stare, more bites in his drunken kisses. With his mouth latching against her throat—wet, hot, and needy—Satoru pushes her dress until it pools around her stomach. He catches her skin between his teeth, nibbling, sucking; the alcohol in his system makes him dismiss any sign of her discomfort and turns it into fuel for his desires, forcing him to focus only on what his body craves.

“Toru—” She cringes in pain, her nails sinking into the back of his shirt. “That hurts!”

“Yeah? What should I do, then?” He pins her hands down against the marble, licking on the bruise. “Want me to be gentle?” Satoru distances himself just enough to let her breathe. His kiss may have turned soft, but he keeps his hand around her throat, his palm pressed against her front, ignoring the way she swallows heavily under his touch. “All right. I’ll be gentle.” He speaks his empty promises with his smirk returning to his face, his tongue peeking out to run across his lip as he takes in her flustered, breathless look. “I’ll be so gentle with you.” He spreads her thighs apart. “Do it nice and slow.” He grinds his hips against her, watching the way his zipper rubs against the thinness of her underwear. “I’ll do it just how you like it.”

Her stomach twists and turns. She doesn’t want to admit it, but it feels so much like… fear.

“I-I have to go,” she tosses her head to the side, trying to seek a way out as her panic inflates rapidly. “I need to—”

“It can wait,” he growls, his thumb dragging her chin down before he smashes their lips together, tasting her as he pleases, owning her as if he weren’t the one who’s been neglecting her for the past few weeks. The kiss is all the chance he gives her to get accustomed to his advances, and it only lasts for a mere five seconds before he starts working on his belt.

She’s scared. Terrified, knowing that it will hurt. They hadn’t gotten together in weeks, and even with enough foreplay—from his point of view, that is—it still feels painful sometimes. “S-Satoru,” she struggles, pushing him away with her heart rising to her throat. “Please, stop—”

Then he does, much to her relief.

But not for her sake.

“I can’t get hard…” he mumbles rather drowsily, followed by a peal of laughter. “Well, that’s embarrassing. Probably because I drank too much.”

Quivers remain in her fingers, but the air feels less suffocating to breathe in now. “You… You should rest,” she whispers shakily.

“Yeah…” He separates himself from her, unsteadily walking toward the living room, oblivious to what he has caused. He crashes face-first on the couch, groaning out, “Ugh, can you get me some aspirin? My head’s killing me.”

With her palm pressed over her chest, her heart continues to beat wildly despite her attempt to tame it down. “Okay…” She slides off the counter, her legs feeling like jelly when she returns to the floor. Ignoring the unnerving feelings that still linger, she focuses on providing him with what he needs.

Satoru thanks her with a grunt, popping two pills inside his mouth and flushing them down with water.

She takes a seat on the end of the couch where he rests his feet, her fists clenched tightly on her lap. “H-How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m dying,” her boyfriend, with one hand draped over his eyes as he lies down, replies with a hum. “But I think I’m sobering up a little bit.”

She watches him closely, her thoughts branching in a thousand different ways. A part of her still reels in the fear from the previous moment. Another side—one that holds a soft spot for him—begs her to forgive him and grant him a moment to collect himself. The rest of her urges her to leave, her eyes darting toward the clock on the wall more than necessary. She’s running late.

I have to go, but… How should I tell him? “Satoru—”

“I’m sorry.”

She turns still. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry,” Satoru repeats heavily, his eyes trailing their way back to hers. “For not telling you where I went last night. I should’ve. And I shouldn’t have drunk so much after I promised you I’d take better care of myself. And also… Sorry for almost forcing myself on you. Should’ve stopped when you said no. I don’t know why I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

His words stun her enough that it deprives her of her breath. Despite how immature he could be, Satoru always apologizes when he makes mistakes—she just didn’t expect it to come so soon. But instead of giving her the sense of peace she desperately needs, it only adds to her already overflowing guilt. Here he is, tossing his selfishness aside and asking for her forgiveness despite still having the world spin before his eyes, while she, on the other hand, is busy thinking about her friend and the wonderful time they’re going to spend together instead of offering to take care of her lover.

“It’s…” She wets her lips. “It’s all right. You’re drunk. You weren’t being yourself.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Though his eyes remain hazy, the mischievous grin, his flirtatious smirk, everything has been washed away from his face without a trace. “Next time I do something like that, punch me in the face or something. I’d rather have a broken nose than find myself hurting you like that.”

She swallows, her stomach twisting under his heavy stare. “Okay…”

Satisfied with her answer, Satoru throws his head back, massaging his temple. “You said you had to go somewhere today?”

“Umm… yes.”

“Where?”

“Jimbocho. There’s a… book festival I want to visit there. One of my favorite authors is attending. I’m trying to get my book signed.”

“That’s cool. You’re going there by yourself?”

Her fingers twitch before she curls them tighter into fists. She takes a deep breath and confesses, “No, with a friend.”

“Who?”

“The… guy from the library.”

Her words, almost instantly, change the atmosphere between them and paint his eyes dark. “I thought I already told you not to get too close to him.”

Had he said that a moment ago when she was still vexed by his drunk antics with a random woman he met at a party, she would’ve fought back with poison lacing her tongue. But now, as her legs still tremble from what nearly happened, her heart conflicted with the apology he just uttered, she can only chew on her lip, not having any strength left to cross swords. “We’re just friends.”

The more she repeats the word friend, the more gasoline she pours onto the shimmering flame inside him. “He invited you to go with him, didn’t he? Just the two of you together.”

Her chest tightens. Satoru managed to guess the big picture, but the details are even worse than that.

“Hey, do you know they’re holding a book festival in Jimbocho this weekend?”

“Really?” Her eyes flickered away from the passage she was reading, returning to the pair of sapphires that always felt like home. She brimmed with interest, sticking a bookmark between the pages to give him her full attention.“This weekend? I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“Well then, I have a surprise for you.” Yuuta, with a smile radiant enough to surpass the stars, slid a flyer down the coffee table that separated them. Among the fancy words written on the glossy paper, her eyes captured a string of letters forming the same name as the one embossed on the cover of the novel she was holding. “Kawakami-sensei will be holding a meet and greet session in the afternoon, so if you go there, you can have your book signed and—”

“No way!” She snatched the flyer with passion bursting from each fingertip, her eyes turning round, moving from one sentence to another as she skimmed over the details. Yuuta laughed a little to himself, warmth filling his gaze as he watched her body tremble with excitement.“Wait, Murata-sensei is going to be there, too? Yuuta, this list is insane!”

“I know,” he chuckled. “So, what do you think? Do you want to go with me?”

“Are you kidding? Of course, I'd love to—” She stopped as she skated over a certain line, her shoulders sagging almost right after. “Oh, no…”

“What?”

“It says here that they have limited seats for Kawakami-sensei’s session. It’s in two days. Do you think we still have time to reserve some seats?”

“You’re right, probably not,” he sighed, matching her disappointment. “But we can still try, and make a call. There should be a phone number somewhere in the flyer.”

“Yeah, I found it. Hold on.” She rummaged through her purse with feverish haste, punching numbers into her screen the second she found her phone. “Dear Gods in heaven, please just grant me this one wish, and I’ll give you the biggest mochi that ever existed as an offering.”

“That’s quite extravagant for a bribe,” he commented in amusement.

“Shut up. Wish me luck.”

“Mm. Good luck.”

It didn’t take long before her line was connected, and it took her an even shorter amount of time for their rejection to ring through her ears and cut all the threads that carried her hopes afloat. Like a child deprived of her chance to visit her fantasy land, she sank back into her seat, tossing her phone carelessly to the table. “Seats are full. Damn it.” She tossed her head back, groaning, “Ugh, I was so excited about it. This is the worst day of my life.”

“Oh, no,” he commented, surprisingly, with one corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“What?” She questioned, knitting her eyebrows together. “What are you smirking about?”

“Nothing,” he grins a little wider as he rises to his feet. He pushes his arms through the sleeves of his coat, fixing his collar as his face glows with amusement. “I’m just picturing how you’ll look like after spending ten hours on the train trying to get that mochi. You know the biggest one is in Iwate, right? That’s five hundred kilometers away from here.”

“Yuuta, what are you talking about—”

He slid another piece of paper down the table, smaller in size but thicker. She picked it up with a frown before her eyes widened in disbelief. “You… You got us the tickets.”

“I got you your ticket,” he corrected with a smile. “There was only one seat left when I made the call. Thank goodness I wasn’t too late.”

She jumped back to her feet, pushing the ticket toward his chest. “You should have it, then!”

His hand, cold yet gentle, covered her own, his smile melting into a softer one. “No,” he guides her fingers to close around the paper. “I want you to have it.”

“But… You like her work as much as I do.”

“There will be another chance, I’m sure,” he assured her, releasing her hand despite his entire being begging him not to. “I’ll spend some time wandering around the area, and I’ll meet you back at the venue when you’re done. After that, we can have lunch together. There's this great Chinese restaurant not far away from there. I’ll treat you to some dumplings. What do you think?”

It was as if he owned the map that led him straight into her heart, bathing it with joy over and over again with every word and action he made. “That sounds perfect,” she breathed out in delight, her eyes crinkling on the edges. “Thank you, Yuuta.”

And she knew her gratitude could never repay the kindness he’d bestowed upon her, but to him, it was everything he could ever ask for.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Telling Satoru the truth about what happened would end in a fight, she knows that for certain. “No, he didn’t invite me,” she answers, doing her best to remain unfaltering under Satoru's scrutinizing gaze. “I mentioned the event in passing when I met him at the library, and he said he wanted to check it out, too, so we… decided to go together, that’s all.”

A lie, one after another, and it sickens her to her bones, but what else can she say?

The pregnant pause that follows feels suffocating to her, and she wonders if it’s because Satoru, even in this state, can sense something in her words.

“Does he know about me?”

She knows the real question he’s asking: Does he know you belong to me?

“Yes. I’ve mentioned your name a few times.”

It doesn’t provide the assurance she wished for, but it elevates his ego just enough. “Good. This still pisses me off somehow, but I was a dick to you today, so…” He exhales, holding her gaze. “I trust you. You know what that means, right?”

She clenches her jaw. Those words are not born out of jealousy. This is him reminding her who owns her. “Of course.”

“All right. A book festival, huh?” he snorts. “Sounds like a party. Have fun.”

His tone irks her, but she doesn’t comment on it, not out loud. “I’ll be home before dinner.”

Satoru rolls himself to his side, snagging the throw blanket on the couch to cover his body. “Remember to tell Not Ugly Guy to keep his hands to himself.”

He flaunts his irritation like a child, but that’s the only thing he does. He could’ve said those words to Yuuta himself if he had cared enough. He could’ve told her, “Hey, you know what? Why don’t we go together instead?” and held her hand like a lover would instead of handing her over to another man and sulking all day about it. But he doesn’t do any of that, does he? He doesn’t even care enough to walk her to the front door. He chooses to drown in his anger instead of kissing her goodbye.

Satoru knows when he makes mistakes, and he takes responsibility for them. It’s the bare minimum a person can expect from a lover, but she appreciates that still. But this… This is the one thing he will never change about himself. His immaturity sticks to him like glue no matter how many years have passed between them.

If Yuuta were in his shoes, he would’ve—

No, she warns herself. Stop it. I’m being unfair to him. How would I feel if he started comparing me to another woman?

There’s no point in thinking about it now. Satoru will never change.

I just need to learn to accept him the way he is.

The way she’s always been for the last six years. ***

“Hey,” Yuuta greets her with a smile rivaling heaven’s golden hue. He arrives at the same moment she’s tangling her fingers around the door handle, one foot ready to enter the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at before they proceed to the venue together.

She stiffens in surprise, mostly because she thought he was already inside with a cup of black coffee brewing in his hand—though a part of her doubts that he would, knowing how Yuuta would always prefer to wait for her before ordering anything, not wanting her to feel like he’d been waiting a long time for her arrival. He’d always ensure she was taken care of first, double-checking her order and running to the cashier to get it ready. She remembers how he does that in the library, too. Yuuta would never have his nose stuck between the pages if she weren’t there, afraid he'd fail to notice her walking into the room if he was drowning too far in his book. Only after she started reading her novel would he begin to indulge himself with his choice for the day.

“Good morning,” he beams, eyes thinning into half-moons. He’s holding his coat in his arm, looking effortlessly gorgeous in a black shirt that matches his raven hair. He’s out of breath, his forehead slick with beads of sweat that threaten to fall off his chin. “Thank goodness, you just arrived. I was worried I kept you waiting. Wait, let me hold that for you.” He opens the door for her, welcoming her in.

“Thank you.” Her heart feels light, more of his presence than just his courtesy. “Did you run on your way here?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles bashfully. “My apartment is nearby, and it usually took me fifteen minutes of walking to get here, but my cat made a mess, so I had to see my landlord and—” He stops himself, shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, please, continue. I want to hear what happened.” Embraced by the warmth provided by the heaters in the room, she takes off her beanie as she steps further inside. “And I wouldn’t have minded waiting for you, you know.”

“No, I would’ve felt awful if I had kept you wai…” He stands still, lips parted in what seems to be awe the second he sees her hair. “…ting…”

There’s something written in his gaze, one that seems similar to the nostalgic feeling of meeting someone from the past. Not understanding why he’d feel that way, she assumes she read him wrong. His pretty eyes turn big and round as he gapes at her, utterly lost for words. “You… Your hair…”

“Huh? Oh, umm, yes.” She rakes her fingers over her strands, growing self-conscious. “I’m trying a different style. Does it look weir—”

“Perfect,” his compliment reverberates in the air before she can finish her sentence, his gaze, his heart, his soul enraptured. “You look… perfect.”

She can’t deny how much joy these little words bring. She feels appreciated. Satisfied. As if all the effort she’d put into styling her hair was for his sake and not for her own comfort. Yuuta runs his eyes over every detail, staring at her with such a longing gaze. His hand twitches, and for a brief moment, she thinks that he’s going to reach out to caress her strands, to give another praise, but through his touch, to make sure that she isn’t a dream even when she appears like one.

He notices it at the same time, it seems, as he suddenly throws his gaze to the ground, his fingers clenching into a fist to stop him from doing what his heart begs him to do.

“Y-you look amazing before, but—” He shyly looks at her again, smiling a little. “This suits you even better.”

The heat in her chest rises to her cheeks. Abashed, she tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, exposing a glimpse of the supple skin on the side of her neck. Thanking him for the kind words, she walks forward, her heart dancing out of beat. She expects him to walk by her side, but Yuuta is still trapped in the same place, standing still like a statue.

Only this time, darkness resides in his gaze.

“Yuuta?”

He blinks once, his stare returning to hers. They turn gentle once more, crinkling on the edges as his mouth twitches in a smile. “Hmm?”

He switches back so fast that she wonders if it was all happening only in her head. She may have imagined the look in his eyes, but she was sure she had seen him staring before. What was he looking at? She asks herself, recalling how his gaze dropped down to her neck. Was it my necklace? My collar? She fixes it, just in case. “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” he smiles, but it’s the kind that leaves her queasy. The one that does not reach his eyes. He strides forward, asking, “So, matcha latte with oat milk like usual?”

“Umm, yeah.”

“Got it. Take a seat. I’ll order it for you.”

“Thank… you.” She walks separately with a frown, ruminating to herself as she finds an empty table for two. It’s not apparent, but there’s definitely a change in his behavior.

And if she had known him well as much as she knew Satoru, she’d realize that even though his words might come across as warm…

They reeked of jealousy.

Later that day, as she ties her hair up in a bun and brushes her teeth, she catches a splotch of dark bruise on her skin. It blooms purple on her neck, terrible enough for anyone who saw it to wonder how painful it must have been when she got it. It didn’t show when she wore her hair down earlier, perfectly hidden by her strands, but when she wears it up like this… or has them pushed aside…

Staring wide-eyed at her reflection in the mirror, her heart plummets to her stomach as her realization sinks in.

He must have seen it.

She’s ashamed, feeling like she just shattered the proper image of her in his mind—if there was even one to begin with. What will he think of me? She ponders, biting the nail of her thumb in her agitation. The thought of him perceiving her as a licentious woman who enjoys parading her lover’s kiss marks, wearing them as a badge of honor in public like that, terrifies her. She doesn’t want him to misunderstand or see her differently.

That following night, she can’t seem to draw her eyes to a close. The thought worries her so terribly that it chases her sleep away. But why does she care so much about what he thinks of her? No, more than that, why does it feel like… cheating? Not on Satoru, but on him. There’s this guilt that swells inside her, something similar to how she feels whenever Satoru questions her about him, only it’s worse. A million times worse. It almost feels like an act of betrayal, as if she was having a filthy affair behind his back with a man who knew how to hold her body but never her heart.

It’s such a ridiculous thought, but she can’t find herself laughing.

She sighs, realizing that in a matter of minutes, the sun will glow golden outside her walls, and she’ll have to face him again. Yuuta is a gentleman. He’ll never ask her about it, even if he had a thousand questions sprouting in his head.

Maybe I should just let it go and pretend he didn’t see it.

Easier said than done. Her chagrin and awkwardness still linger in her gestures when she greets him a few hours later, but Yuuta, despite looking like he couldn’t lie to save his life, wears his pretense perfectly. He acts the same way as usual, smiling and enjoying his endless conversations with her, doing it so well, that she begins to think… Maybe he didn’t see it.

Or he did, but… he just doesn’t care.

And that thought hurts her more than the way Satoru sank his teeth into her skin.

Her hand absentmindedly finds its way back to the scarf she has wrapped around her neck, her lips itching to say, it’s not what you think; he forced it on me, but she remembers she has no reason to. Yuuta is just a stranger she met a few weeks ago. There’s no need to explain or apologize, no matter how much her heart wants to. It would’ve been weird if she did.

“Yuuta.”

“Yes?”

“Wanna go get some crepes before we go home?”

He brightens, fireworks in his eyes. “Sure!” ***

From the first day she encountered the handsome stranger in the library, she always fell asleep with her heart fluttering. It almost feels like she’s a little girl, excited over her upcoming journey to the unknown. That’s what it is essentially, isn’t it? Every time she closes her lids and sinks deep into her slumber, she’ll wake up somewhere new, somewhere different, but what matters the most is that she will always, always wake up to his smile. It’s only right for her to be thrilled. After all, her dreams of him are always the sweetest ones.

Last night’s dream started with her walking down the street, stopping right before an intersection. As she looked around, her gaze stretching far across from where she was, she spotted the man for whom her heart longed, walking down the road that would lead him to her. She broke into her biggest smile, her hand raised high in the air, waving to gain his attention from behind the passing cars. She couldn’t wait for the lights to turn green. She wanted to run to him, to fall into his arms, to meet his lips with her own.

As the dream version of her drowned in the sweet fantasy of their reunion, her real self used the chance to collect all the details. She was still in Tokyo, she realized. The city—bright, colorful, and a hundred years younger—remained the same as it was in her last vision, still struggling to discover its identity by maintaining its traditional aspects while absorbing Western influence into its pores. Yuuta’s attire, however, was the perfect balance of that, with a white, collarless button-down shirt layered by an iron grey kimono, hakama bottoms that were a shade lighter, waraji sandals, and a dark flat cap to complete the look.

The young man caught her gaze from across the street, surprise overtaking his face before it instantly brightened as if she breathed more life into him, only with a simple curve of her lips. “Stay there,” he mouthed. “I’ll come to you!”

She nodded, her heart beating fast in the novelty of a first love.

Yuuta crossed the road in haste the second the lights changed, his mind focusing solely on her presence that he didn’t bat an eyelash when the wind swiftly stole his hat away and knocked it over to the ground. A few disturbed pedestrians cursed at him when his shoulder brushed against theirs inadvertently. His legs continued to run as he uttered his apology, only coming to a halt once he crushed himself against her in a tight hug. With the biggest grin, he lifted her off the ground, twirling her once while they basked in the elation of reuniting with each other. They softened each other’s gleeful giggles with a sweet kiss, one that lasted only a mere second despite their wish to continue. Had there been no witnesses, they would’ve spent an eternity just drowning in their passion for each other.

“You surprised me!” he exclaimed, breathless from the euphoria running through his bloodstream. “I didn’t think I’d see you here. I was going to pick you up from work. I thought you’d be ready by five like always.” He checked on the ticking watch circled around his wrist. “There’s still half an hour till then. Why aren’t you in the library?”

“Why are you already here, then, if there’s still half an hour on the clock?”

“Oh, umm…” He threw his gaze to the pavement, rubbing the back of his head as he turned shy. “I couldn’t stay still at the office. I kept thinking about you, and I just…” He slowly returned his gaze to hers. “I wanted to see you as soon as I could…”

Her heart soared and melted at the same time. “This is embarrassing for me to admit, but… I felt the same way. I missed you so terribly that I kept rereading the same page. Gakuganji-sensei told me I could leave early if I wanted to—I think he could tell my mind was elsewhere. I knew there was still time until you arrived, but I couldn’t wait any longer in that library, so I thought I’d meet you halfway. And maybe then we could spend half an hour longer with each other.”

Yuuta’s sparkly eyes turned round as he listened. “You… thought that…?”

“Yes,” she admitted with a bashful smile. “Don’t start crying now.”

“I won’t,” he sniffled, making her laugh. “Come here.” He pulled her into his embrace again, where she belonged, his arms tenderly enveloping her this time. “Maybe I should leave my office early every day so we’ll have more time together. Another half an hour longer with you… I’d love that.”

“I don’t think neither of us should make that a habit, but,” she tittered. “I’d love that, too.”

They traded smiles, her face scrunching adorably when he playfully rubbed the tip of their noses together.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he sighed, cradling her head close and burying his face in her strands. “I’ve spent every waking hour thinking about you, Sweetheart. These last four days felt like torture without you.”

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. “Me too.”

“I missed you,” he repeated. “I missed you so much.” Romance laid thick in the kisses he peppered down from her temple, her cheek, her nose, but when he heard her giggling from it, he nuzzled his face to her neck, tickling her further until she chortled out loud.

“Stop,” she laughed, placing a hand on his chest. “We’re in public.”

“Can we go somewhere private, then?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I believe it’s too early for us to act so indecently, Okkotsu-sama.”

“No, I—” He blushed. “I meant to talk. I have something I want to tell you. It’s good news.”

“What is it?”

He smiled, his hand sliding down to fill the spaces between her fingers.“Let’s go somewhere nice first.”

***

With their hearts intertwined and her dress swaying with every step taken, they walked down a path together. Crafted by a romantic hand, the sunset blossomed red and gold before them, a sweet caress of warmth to their cheeks amid the cool autumn breeze. They arrived at a lush park teeming with vibrant flowers and plants that were beautiful and fragrant. The leaves had not changed hues yet, but it would only be a matter of time before they colored the soil gold and scarlet.

A large fountain rested at its heart, confined by a ring of stones and concretes. The sound of water cascading, the shimmering reflection of light, and the beauty of the surrounding landscape had captivated the hearts of many, including their own, no matter how often they had visited the place in the past. It was there that they could be granted a moment of serenity, away from the briskness of the city.

They sat next to each other on the edge of the fountain, with her tilting her head in curiosity as he rummaged the insides of his bag. To her surprise, he presented her with a book, its thick weight unfamiliar when she held it between her hands. But once her eyes skated over the title and the author’s name, her stomach flipped.

It was Revival by Saori.

“T-this is—” Her jaw turned slack, searching for words. “Yuuta—”

“I did it,” he grinned. “I built your dream company.”

Her joy engulfed her so fast, so intense, she found herself jumping into his arms. He giggled endearingly at her reaction, his hands winding around her waist in reflex. With her hands circled around his neck and their hearts beating against one another, she whispered his name amid her gratitude in a voice laced with her upcoming tears.

“Are you crying?” She shook her head no despite her eyes growing hot. He laughed softly in return, rubbing her head in return. “Don’t cry. Be happy for me.”

“I am happy. That’s why I’m crying.”

“I thought you said you weren’t crying.”

She landed a weak punch on his chest in return, feeling the vibration of his laughter against her cheek as she buried her face further in his warmth. “Wanna hear about our progress so far?”

Though enthusiastic about it, she could only nod in response, her lips still quivering from her tears. Yuuta smiled, telling his story as he continued to stroke her hair, a habit born out of his adoration.

“We’ve managed to sign a deal with six different authors. They’ve sent us a bunch of manuscripts—all of them are very interesting, and I honestly can’t wait for you to read everything. We’ve assigned some editors to work closely with them, and we’ll make sure to keep the authenticity of their works as best as possible. As of now, we have eight books we’re planning to release in the following months; three of them are from Saori-sensei. I know eight books are nothing compared to what other publishers release in a year, but… It’s a start. And you’re right. Seeing the joy on these authors’ faces when we give their stories a chance… It’s so fulfilling.”

She had a million things to say, yet she couldn’t say anything at all. Her chest felt so full that it left her breathless. “Words cannot express just how proud I am of you, Yuuta,” she curled her fingers around the back of his kimono, sinking her face into the crook of his neck as she struggled to blink back her tears. “I wish I could compose a better compliment, but… You’re amazing. Your bravery, your hard work, your resilience—I admire you so much.”

She might think that these words were far from enough to cheer his soul, but to him, they were everything he wanted to hear and more. “Thank you,” he whispered, brushing a kiss upon her temple. “This is all because of you.” She shook her head in disagreement. “No, really. I wouldn’t have done any of this if you didn’t give me the idea and motivation. You made this happen.”

She sobbed a little harder, stealing another chuckle out of him. “If you don’t believe me,” Yuuta splayed the book open on her lap, flipping the book’s first few pages. “Here. Look, even she thought so.”

She stopped breathing. There, written on the page before the first chapter began, was her name. Out of all the people to whom Saori could dedicate this book, she chose her. The author thanked her for making her dream come true, for giving her a chance and relight the hope she had once lost.

“Did… Did you ask her to write this?”

“No.”

“But you told her about me.”

“Uhh…” He winced. “A little bit.”

She shut the book closed. “Yuuta!”

“I just wanted her to know that this all happened because of you.” His eyes drooped as he pouted. “Was that.. something I shouldn’t have done?”

“No, it’s just… I feel embarrassed.” And happy. So happy, she felt tears prickling in the corner of her eyes again. “But this isn’t right. She should’ve been thanking you.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Looks like she wrote down the right name to me,” Yuuta grinned rather cheekily, lightly bumping his shoulder against hers. “If I were her, I would’ve written down your name, too.”

Though she couldn’t accept the appreciation just yet, she focused on what mattered. Wiping her tears away, she asked, “Just how did you get your father to agree to this?”

“It surely wasn’t easy at first. I had to come up with a bunch of different business plans, trying to find one that piqued his interest. It took me months to convince him, but he eventually agreed. What surprised me was that he also agreed to fund my company and let me run the business all by myself. Maybe this is his way of testing me since I was being really stubborn about making a company for myself, and if it is, then I’ll take it as a challenge. It’s frightening and exciting at the same time to be in this position. I like it. I feel like I’m finally starting a new chapter in my life.”

Watching him suffused with so much jubilation brought her the same joy. She pressed a hand over his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone. “I know you’ll do well,” she said with a pretty bow of her lips. “I’m sure of it.”

Yuuta angled his face to brush a tender kiss against her palm. “I know it took me almost a year to get to this point, and I’m sorry for making you wait so long. I was really worried that I’d run out of time to fulfill my promise to you, but… Thank goodness I made it just in time.”

“I would’ve given you all the time in the world, Yuu. There was no need for you to rush.” She pulled away, resting her palms on his chest. “I still can’t believe this is happening… You never mentioned anything about this, and I was always too scared to ask. I thought you’d forgotten about it and chose to do something else.”

“How could I forget about it? It’s your dream, isn’t it?” He pushed her hair out of her eyes with the gentlest caress of his fingertips. “And what follows after that… is my dream.”

If there was one thing in the world I wished of you… It’s for you to marry me.

Her heart hammered against her ribcages as though it was trying to find a way to escape. “Yuuta—”

“You said you would’ve given me all the time in the world, but Sweetheart, I don’t want that,” he sighed, yearning in his eyes, the kind that she imagined Saori aimed to portray in her book. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to hear your answer to my proposal. I want to know if you’ll… marry me…”

With his voice sweeter than a siren’s call, his intention so pure with nothing but affection in his heart, just how could anyone resist him? To decline his proposal would’ve been foolish of her—and she never wanted to. Every fiber of her being wanted him, needed him, loved himthe same way. Had she made a name for herself, something that could make her feel worthy to stand by his side, she would’ve stated her eternal vows right here, right then, to promise him that she’d love him until her dying breath, but—

Your father must be ecstatic to learn how his little, obedient son wastes his time with a commoner.

Naoya Zenin’s honeyed yet sickening voice, filled with nothing but mockery and disdain, echoed through her mind, snapping away all threads of hope and keeping her bound to the ground—reminding her of the reality that they did not belong in the same world.

“Yuuta…” She cast her gaze to the side. She was unsure what to say to him. Knowing him and how stubborn he could be to achieve his goal, she could tell he’d dismiss the differences in their status in a heartbeat, but what about everyone else in his life? What about his father? She hadn’t gotten the chance to meet him yet, but the way Naoya mentioned him…

I need to find an excuse. “Don’t you think we’re… too young to be married?”

He blinked once before scarlet painted over his cheeks. “W-we don’t have to do it right now! I know there are still things you want to do before you settle down, and I won’t rob that away from you, but…” He wetted his lips, restless. “I just—I want you to know that when I asked you to be my lover, this has been my intention from the start. I never dreamed of a fleeting romance. I want something that lasts, and I had never wanted to have anything like that with anyone until I met you. After knowing what it feels like to be with you, to be the happiest version of myself, I feel I can’t live without you anymore. It’s frightening to even think about parting with you for a second. It pains me every time we say goodbye, and I wish I never had to say that to you ever again. That’s why I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, each and every second of it. And I wish you’d feel the same way, too.”

She had her hand pressed against her chest, fingers curling as the same thought occurred in her mind, the same thought she wished she could profess out loud so he’d know she yearned for him just the same. “But.. What would your father think of me?” She finally spoke the truth.

He witnessed the crestfallen look she’d been trying to conceal. He leaned in close, taking her hand away from her heart. “I know you’re scared,” he intertwined their fingers together, kissing the back of her hand. “And I am, too. But we both thought my father would disagree with me about building my own company, and yet, he didn’t. Not only that, he has also become my main shareholder now. I wouldn’t have gone this far without his help.”

She gazed away. “I don’t think we can put our hopes based on that, Yuu…”

Sadness fleeted across his face, and it crushed her heart, but she had to say it to put a stop to his naivety before it was too late. He rested their joined hands on his lap, his voice quiet when he asked, “Is there any part of you that wishes to marry me?”

“Yes,” she said, without a second to waste. “Yuuta, every part of me wishes to marry you.”

He spun his head toward her, taking every detail of her expression. The tears that brimmed in her eyes, how she looked back at him… His heart swelled in joy, tugging on her hand until she fell back into his arms.

“That’s enough,” he breathed in relief, his lids shutting in bliss as his lips hovered above her shoulder. “To hear that you want to marry me, too—that’s more than enough for me. This is the happiest I’ve ever been…” He tightened his embrace. “Thank you…”

Her heart shattered. “Yuuta—”

“I beg you,” he cut her off quickly with a broken voice. “Please… Let’s hold on to those feelings for now. Don’t think too much about the future, don’t think about anything else, just focus on what you want to do with me. Just… listen to what your heart tells you to, the same way I listen to mine. Please…”

With those words digging their way into her heart, she found no strength to fight. He won. All the battles raging inside her, all these thoughts begging her to distance herself before time could hurt them, he chased them all away. It was easy, so easy to give in when all pieces of her soul craved for it, too.

“Just believe in us,” Yuuta whispered, before he added with a shy chuckle, “Love will find a way. Isn’t that what they say?”

She blinked back her tears, finding herself smiling just the same. It sounded too good to be true, but she chose to believe in it—no, she chose to believe in him. She knew, one way or another, he would find a way for them to be together. Whatever path he took, no matter where it’d lead them, she’d walk it with him if it meant she never had to let go of his hand.

A small space stood between them, a space that, judging from the way his eyes fell onto her lips, he longed to replace with a kiss. “C-can I be selfish and ask for one more present?”

Witnessing how his cheeks bloomed in the same shade of the red tulips flourishing around them, she knew the perfect way to answer him. She slid her hands in a graceful dance up his chest, her eyes drooping as she leaned in close. A whisper of “Yes” fell upon his lips, followed right after by the perfect kiss.

Perfect, until she wakes up. ***

#yuta x reader #solo leveling #jjk x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #yuta smut #yuta fluff #okkotsu yuta #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #jjk smut #jjk fics #jujutsu kaisen #kana.fics #fics.desiderium

101 notes · View notes

captainsophiestark · 5 months ago

Text

Crib Construction

Cassian x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: ACOTAR

Summary: Cassian and his mate have been tasked with putting together Nyx's crib. Unfortunately, it's a harder task than they thought it would be.

Word Count: 1,282

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Cass, come here. Does this look right?"

My boyfriend didn't waste a second before joining me on the floor, kneeling behind me and looking over my shoulder. Neither of us spoke for a minute, then I heard a rustling of paper as Cassian sighed.

"Yeah, it looks right. That hasn't stopped it from being wrong before, though."

"Well, let's just hope for the best."

I could feel through the mating bond just how little Cassian wanted to do that, but he knew as well as I did that we didn't have much other choice. I took a deep breath, then gently pressed the two pieces of wood before me together, trying to get them to link like they were supposed to.

Of course, it didn't work. I added slightly more pressure, but still nothing. I put my entire weight and all of my strength into it, and when the damn thing still didn't budge, I let out a scream and shoved both pieces away from me before I could really lose my temper and accidentally break something.

"This is bullshit!" I shouted, whirling around to face Cassian. He had a look of grim resignation, meeting my eyes with sympathy. Our positions had been exactly reversed about ten minutes ago. "Rhys set this up as a way to get back at you for winning the snowball fight last time, and I'm getting caught in the collateral. This sucks."

"Honestly, maybe he did," Cass said, sighing and leaning back on his hands. "Or maybe Az did something to break this one too before he got kicked off the job."

I groaned, flopping over and into Cassian's side to lay against his chest and stare at the ridiculous contraption that had been defeating us all afternoon. Rhys and Feyre had asked us to assemble Nyx's crib, and at first, we'd been honored and happy to help. But hours later, when nothing was going right and none of the pieces were fitting together the way they were supposed to, I was about ready to throw all of it out the window and into the Sidra below.

We'd been given the task in the first place because Az had shattered the same type of crib to pieces after spending a day being stumped by the puzzle. Cassian and I had inherited the task for our ability to keep each other calm, and because we were generally less destructive when continually frustrated by a puzzle. This crib was about to ruin that reputation.

"Okay, maybe we should just start over from the beginning," I said, sitting up and turning to face Cassian after our brief rest. "Like, take everything apart and lay it all out on the floor again, then start back from step one."

Cassian groaned. "Honestly, I hate that idea. But what we're already doing clearing isn't working, so..."

"So let's try it. Deep breaths, and then a total reset. A fresh start."

"...Alright. Let's do it."

With a lot of heavy sighing, Cassian and I took apart what little progress we'd made, separating the crib back into its individual parts, the way it had come. Once we got it all laid out again, I took the instruction manual from Cass and laid that out in front of us, too. With one last deep breath, we started in again at step one on page one.

I wish I could say this attempt went better. But it didn't. Cassian and I almost destroyed the whole thing Az-style in a fit of frustration three times each, one of us barely managing to pull the other back every time. We were just lucky our destructive streaks never lined up, or the pieces of the crib before us would've already become nothing more than a pile of ash.

"Alright, that's it!" Cass finally shouted, standing up abruptly from where we'd been trying to wrestle together the corners of the crib with no luck, despite using both our strength at once. "I'll be right back."

"What?" I flung my arms out to either side of me as Cassian headed for the door. "You're abandoning me? Seriously?"

"Not abandoning! Changing tactics."

Before I could ask for clarification, Cassian was out the door. I stared after him, waiting for him to reappear or say he was kidding or something, but he didn't. I huffed, then shook my head and turned back to the crib, its pieces still mostly laid out on the floor.

I sat there and stared at the pieces for a few long beats, contemplating my next move. Honestly, I'd just about decided to throw them out the window and tell Rhys the thing'd never been here when the door came swinging open again.

I turned to find Cassian striding towards me, the confidence and determination back in his step. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just grinned.

"I've solved all our problems."

I snorted, but smiled at Cassian all the same as he came to a stop before me. The fact that he'd managed to make me laugh at all in the middle of this nonsense was exactly why we were mates, and it made me love him even more.

"Cass, you know I love you, and you know I trust you, but... I'm having a hard time seeing how that could possibly be true. Unless you convinced Mor to take over for us...?"

"No, but just as good." I raised an eyebrow, and Cassian's grin widened as he dropped down next to me. Slowly, from behind his back, he pulled out a hammer, tape, and a few other supplies.

I just stared at everything for a moment, then snorted and leanded into Cassian. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Babe... we can't use that stuff to put this crib together."

"Why not?"

"Because it won't be sturdy enough! We don't want it to give out while the baby's in it. We both know we can't risk that."

Cassian hummed, rocking forward just enough to get a few of the pieces of the crib into his hands. He lined them up like we'd been doing all day, then raised the hammer in his other hand.

"Maybe you're right about the tape," he said. "But all we need to fix this is a little extra power. We can't force it together with our strength alone, so we'll use a hammer."

"Cass-"

Before I could get another word out, Cassian swung the hammer. I could see him putting his full Illyrian strength into it, and sure enough, the pieces whacked together. Unfortunately for us, they also splintered into more pieces than would be fixable, even with tape.

Cassian and I just stared at the wreckage for a moment, neither of us speaking. Cassian was the one to break first.

"Shit."

I laughed, all the stress and ridiculousness of the past few hours disappearing along with our hopes of actually succeeding at our task. I leaned into Cassian, and a moment later, he joined me.

"Well, that didn't go like I was hoping," sighed Cassian. I laughed again.

"Really? That's not what you were going for?"

"Not quite."

We shared a smile, then slumped back together, Cassian's arm around my waist as I leaned into his chest. I sighed, staring at the ruins of the crib before us. Not a single part of me wanted to do something about fixing it.

"So... how about we call Mor and find a way to pass this on to her?"

I laughed, then nodded as I leaned even further into Cassian.

"Baby, I was thinking the same thing. You, me, and Az have had to tear our hair out over this thing already, I think it's her turn."

"And even better, if any of us has to call Amren in, it'll be Mor."

"Exactly."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Maasverse Taglist: @lilah-asteria

99 notes · View notes

takes1 · 1 month ago

Note

MORE FUKUNAGA PLSSS IM STARVING MOTHER💔💔💔 I ATE IT UP LAST TIME AND I RE READ IT LIKE EVERY THREE DAYS😞😞

this was so funny and has never once been a forgotten addition to my inbox.

shohei fukunaga would risk everything just to see you one more time

warnings. none, sfw. minors still DNI

details. sfw / fem!reader / pining / stolen kisses / closet freak!shohei / forbidden long distance / mutual crushing / karasuno manager!reader / everybody thinks this guy is unsettling / romantic / is it wrong to headcanon him as yandere? / 1k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines.

A blur of your hair, seen from the window of his bus, shocks Shohei's body upright. Nothing quite fixes his slouch the way you do.

As he cranes unnaturally to confirm if that was you amongst the massive, unorganized gaggle of players queued up to leave for their respective cities, there are a dozen Karasuno jerseys, and that's enough to fly on.

"Please stop the bus, sir. I-- forgot something."

Shohei was completely doubled over in remorse, and respect, to their less-than-happy bus driver. What can you expect from a bunch of ungrateful city boys anyway? He muttered a curse under his breath and the bus sighed to a stop.

The doors had half a second to fold open and he was already leaping out onto the concrete with surprising, accurate, and needed agility.

He bolted at points, and managed to squeeze through at other times, past the violent sea of teams separating your bus from his.

None of Karasuno had been told to load on, yet. A handful were picked to throw bags underneath in the storage compartment, but you were conveniently sitting pretty and watching the crowd, for nothing in particular.

In fact, you were mulling over some lukewarm regret over not telling Shohei a proper goodbye. Neither of you were ever certain you would get to reunite, and with Nationals done-- what else was there to bring you together?

You thought you spotted a Nekoma uniform, completely out of place- and in the flash of time it took to recognize who it could have been, you were scooped up with some impressive strength.

"(Y/n)--," He huffed against your hair, but his tone never tired, never dragged- it was always flat and pleasant, "Please-."

Those big eyes looked droopy as they searched your surprise. You were very happy to see him but it did not show.

"Please come see me in Tokyo."

Some voices got through to you, the both of you, in your shock.

"Huh?!"

"What did that punk just say?!"

Nishinoya was rolling up his sleeves after loading the biggest, heaviest bag into the bus, "Hey! Lay off our manager you creep!!"

"Wait-waitwait-!"

You couldn't explain fast enough- Daichi had to play middleman and stiff-arm the two buffoons, though he himself wasn't the biggest fan of that look Shohei had to him, nor how he ran up on you like that. He didn't correct Nishinoya for calling him a creep because he did look the part.

"Don't be rude!" You shouted back.

You had to usher him away, further from your now nosy team. He didn't seem to give it any attention, or energy, so it made you briefly wonder how often he was belittled like that.

"God- I guess," You had to shake out your nerves, all giddy from his hug, and his attention, "I'm sorry, I guess they're all still jocked up on adrenaline- or something--,"

"I don't have a lot of time--"

"Right! Right- sorry, um... Come- come see you? In Tokyo?"

Your hesitation to give him an instant 'yes' spurred his nervous movement- a jump, in his hand that brushed across your lower back and pulled you closer. That shrub behind you looked sharp, too, so while he was at it, he fixed your orientation so that you switched spots. Your back to the crowd, his back to the shrub. He could see anyone coming from here, too.

You shuddered at all his touching. "The city? I-h-- I dunno, Shohei. That's so... far."

It was at least a bullet train away. Possibly the better half of a days' worth of travel. Little Karasuno in the mountains was your home, and you couldn't possibly dream of travelling by yourself through all of that.

There were two teams loading onto their buses, now. The crowds were starting to become organized lines, or blocks, in order to leave.

He shook his head, considering the only alternative with a thick swallow. "I can't wait around for another practice game to see you again."

It was quiet, for a beat. No guy had ever, ever looked that serious about you before. Your hand was rising to touch his face, to see if that worry was actually real.

"I...I can't-."

His little gasp at your touch was confirmation. A much bigger hand slid up to keep your palm right there, right across his cheek, next to his mouth.

Your reassurance was a long-awaited rain after a brutal dry season of uncertainty.

A light nod, a small smile, found you as you were completely transfixed on the lengths he went to, all just to come see you one more time.

"Let's do it," Maybe you could take a friend, and you could make a weekend out of it under a really bad excuse, "I wanna see you too."

Well, maybe it wasn't quite the same. To want and to need were two very different concepts.

It still made him melt, pressing warm and fervent open kisses against your hand, into your palm and spilling all across your wrist. You couldn't hide how tingly it got you- you hid an impure sigh under your free hand. Even when you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, you could still hear him kissing you.

"I have to go," He sounded miserable, with one difficult-to-read look back towards his bus, a fair distance away.

Some intangible force compelled you to put an ounce or two of pressure in your hand, to better remember how his face felt against your fingertips.

"Call me," Was going to be the last thing he said to you. He slipped from your touch but you weren't ready for him to leave, yet.

His voice was a sigh, nearing a whisper. It captured you in its sincerity and brevity.

"Yeah- I-, I will."

You couldn't help it; you had to seal this somehow. The thought to give him a rushed, imperfect kiss blended right into the action. You kept him here, with you, by fisting the collar of his jacket for a clumsy smooch.

That big, interesting grin and sparkly eyes were not something you were prepared for, either.

He kept his excited chuckle back, just barely, and kept you still for a real kiss. Gentle, and warm, and way better than your own attempt.

You couldn't hear yourself telling him goodbye- you watched his lips form some kind of muted response and felt emptyhanded as he had to run back quicker now to catch his bus. It was idling in the way of many vehicles trying to get out of the lanes.

Did you even have his number?

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @megapteraurelia

my masterlist. more haikyuu

116 notes · View notes

jenchan-writingmultis · 11 months ago

Text

This was for the best, right? (Vil x Fem Reader)

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Genre: Heavy angst/ No comfort

Pairing: Vil x Fem Reader & One-sided Rook x Fem Reader

A/n: Hi! So do you guys recall the idea I had with Vil x Reader angst? So this is it! If you want to know about it first, I’ll link it (here) I hope you like this one, I gave my best effort on this, hopefully, it fits Vil, I love him so much.

Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards. The line breakers are from Kaomoji dividers!

Warning: This is ANGST NO COMFORT! Panic Attacks on Vil’s side, Breakups no reconciliation, misunderstanding and Insecure Vil, relapses of Trauma on Vil’s side, talking bad about Reader’s appearance, although vague it still is there.

!PROCEED WITH CAUTION! Masterlist

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Sypnosis: Your face got leaked throughout social media when you went to have a date with your boyfriend Vil. It made him hate his reputation; he would understand if people bashed him instead, after all, he wouldn't let those words affect him, he's more worried about you, you're not used to the media watching you, having you be seen with him by paparazzi. He kept thinking of ending things with you to protect you from the backlash. ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

He is usually unbothered by the fact that he gains hate often, he plays villainous roles, having to only reach till halfway or even before the story’s conclusion. It was normal for people to threaten him just because his character did something horrible to the main character. At least he is aware of how well he performed in acting by how despised he was. However, what he wasn’t prepared for was you being the one gaining hate.

People are hypocrites, they cuss him out and throw the worst insults they could think of towards him, and at the same time, they view him as a perfect human who deserves someone “better for him”. He didn’t expect that his selfishness would get in the way of his relationship with you just because he wants one normal date outside of school but when one of his paparazzi caught a picture of him with you out on a simple date in Pyroxene. The picture showed your face fully without any filters, those uncouth journalists milking his fame with their horrendous illegal articles; anything to gain a higher footing in their industry than anyone else.

When he found out about the article, you two were cuddling in Pomefiore in his bedroom. He had a separate, massive bedroom since he was the housewarden, watching the film that he was recently cast in. As usual, he was given the role of a villain, it was the same old same old, except this time, the villain won, and it was satisfying to see him reach the end. He didn’t tell you though, so while you lay your head on his shoulder, watching; complimenting his looks and joking about how you’d date him even if he was that crazy.

He loves your little antics, you’re the only one who had an odd mind falling for the roles he has. “You have a peculiar taste for characters sweetheart” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer while you giggled.

“Funny how I’m dating you” You cuddled closer to him, what you said earned you a playful glare. He was about to tickle you as punishment, but his phone suddenly vibrated, showing the name of his manager, he went to kiss your forehead before he untangled himself off you; “Give me a second, I’ll take this call real quick” he informed you which you gave a nod, letting him out of the bedroom and to his bathroom.

"What is it?"He examined himself in the mirror, fixing his hair while his manager spoke, "Vil, check what I sent you, it's a link." Vil glanced at his phone and clicked on the article, wondering what it was, he waited for a bit, and as soon as it finished loading his heart drops.

“Famous actor Vil Schoenheit caught dating!” It was a stupid title, but he didn’t give any thought about It, fearing for the worst he scrolled further, finding your face unblurred on it. “What is the meaning of this?” he frowned, gripping his phone before his manager answered.

“I’m not sure how they found out about the café you and your lover frequent but I’m trying to track down the owner of the article and threaten them with a lawsuit, but with how the media eats up everything, I’m afraid the damage has been done” Vil could hear rustling from the other end his manager taking out which he thinks is paperwork, most likely about the process of lawsuit, he was growing restless as he looked at how many comments and likes did the article gain. He didn’t even notice that his Magicam was being blown up by “fans” questioning him for his taste, and criticizing you.

He was starting to feel chills around his body when he continued to investigate the whole thing, Vil was close to having a panic attack, gripping the edge of the sink. He tried to calm himself down, remembering what his father taught him.

“Deep breath in, deep breath out” he recalled, causing him to loosen his grip a bit and relax. A knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts when he faintly hears you from outside.

“Vil? Are you okay? You’re taking a while there” you asked which he straightened himself up, composing himself before looking at his phone, who still had his manager on call. “I’ll have you deal with this; I need to go.” He walked to the door opening it after his manager agreed and ended the call.

“Sorry, it was just a minor nuisance at work” He smiled at you, he was a good actor but when it comes to you sometimes, he can’t seem to lie. “Are you sure? You sounded pretty agitated when I went to check on you” You touched his hand, entangling your fingers with his, which made him sigh.

“it’s…” he hesitated for a moment; does he tell you? He can’t drag you into all of this, he was planning to have it stay hidden till the article was gone, but at the same time, you’re bound to know about it once your friends find out and question you about it.

“Can we talk?” He finally caved in, gazing at you with a mixture of worry in his eyes; how could you say no to that?

When you found out about the article, Vil was worried that you’d be upset at him, not once did your expression change when he was explaining it. He didn’t expect you to smile and kiss his cheek, telling him that “it’s okay, the media will die down on it, at least if they found out, they won’t bat an eye if we go on dates more publicly, right?” you told him.

He was amazed with how well you handled the news; what about the possibility of receiving backlash? No, actually you both were receiving backlash already. “You’ll have to stop using social media for a while and deactivate it just to be safe” he warned you, looking at you for any signs of distress, he was concerned that you were just hiding it, you’re not someone who’s made to handle the eyes of strangers, he thinks you might not even understand what it means to have your face be doxed by media.

"Darling," he said, enveloping you in his embrace, which you gladly returned. He said, "Listen, this is the media we're talking about," stepping back to look directly into your eyes. You'll be receiving insults left and right, and I worry that if your friends choose to drop you because of our reputation, it will negatively impact you. I'm capable of managing myself and safeguarding you from the public eye, but what if this also concerns your friends?" he knew that the possibility of your close friends dropping you for something trivial like this was unlikely to happen but there’s still a possibility.

“If they drop me for something so stupid, I guess they don’t deserve to be my friend,” you said firmly, “Vil, I don’t mind this," You replied firmly, "but it seems like you’re bothered by it” You pointed out, touching his face, it was true, he is bothered by it, he’s scared of the outcome, he’s afraid that every day when you go out in public, people will try to hurt you or coerce you into doing something you don’t like.

“Once the article is down, it’ll fizzle out” You comforted him, noticing that his breathing started getting a bit ragged. Was it really going to stop once that article was taken down? There might be people who saved that article and reposted it.

In the next few days, you two would often just stay within school grounds, Night Raven College is big enough for you two to roam around and have your usual dates; Despite his frequent work schedule and dormitory maintenance, he still made time to have meals with you. During those times, everyone seemed to keep testing his patience, when he was on set, his unprofessional coworkers kept festering him about you, and when outside, he felt restricted, not being able to walk freely without eyes catching him, so he was advised by his manager to use his car to go back to school and work. He kept his social media muted as well; he couldn’t scroll around Magicam cause every article in those past few days has been nothing but hatred towards you.

“That woman looks so average, what the hell did Vil see in her?”

“Honestly, I would even accept if he’s gay for Neige, whenever those two are together they look so cute!”

“She looks like an extra://”

Comment after comment of users trashing your looks, your whole being even without knowing you.

It angers him, so for the sake of his mental health and yours, he made sure that you also kept your social media muted, although often, he saw you scrolling on it, reading the comments, or just chatting with your friends.

He doesn’t understand why you do it, it frustrates him a bit when you do, but he couldn’t tell you to just delete social media entirely, he’s not toxic.

During lunchtime, he was late to meet you, rushing through the cafeteria, he found you with Deuce and Ace, chatting away. He was going to greet you till he heard what Ace said.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna stop this act?” he munched on his egg sandwich while Deuce looked at Ace like he had just grown a second head.

“What the hell are you talking about Ace” Deuce said before Ace glared back at him. “I mean! Being unbothered by whatever nonsense Magicam’s got on. You have your face everywhere and people are talking smack about it!” He pointed out in which, Vil couldn’t even see what your expression was right now. "If I were you, I’d confront him about why his agency hasn't gotten to the bottom of this." Deuce wanted to hit Ace that time, but it was true, both your friends were confused as to why it continued to circulate.

“You don’t have to listen to Ace” Deuce paused, not knowing where this could possibly lead to what he meant. “It’s okay, I understand the concern.” You voiced out, placing the fork down, fiddling with your fingers, “It does affect me, but It’s not Vil’s fault that It got way out of hand.”

Vil frowned, hearing that, so it did affect you, why didn’t you tell him? Was it because of his incompetence? He thought about how many times you told him that it was okay, that you didn’t mind it. He knew that the article was stupid, but the evidence was evidence to journalists, and that caused you to be in the middle of the crossfire between him and his “fans”.

Was it worth sacrificing your peace dating him? He smiled bitterly to himself, how stupid of him to have these kinds of thoughts. He looked at his phone, he was going to send you a message that he was in the cafeteria but decided to go against it.

“I don’t think I can make it. You can go eat.” He sent the message before leaving the cafeteria and going back to the dormitory, he needed some time for himself.

When he reached his living quarters, he sat down on his bed, noticing the way the curtains were covering any light coming inside. It was like the state of his mind currently, he didn’t feel like doing his daily routine today, which is funny, if he didn’t push himself to keep a perfect image, he would be nothing but average; but if he did look average, would that give both of you the pleasure of living a normal life?

He scoffed to himself, he can’t just throw his career away, he needs it for your future; both your futures, he stood up, grabbing all the necessary cream, face powder, and other stuff for his face, but the moment he saw himself, looking tired, he stiffened up. Will there be a future where the two of you would be together?

Vil didn’t realize that he started to avoid you. His bedroom was inaccessible, you would knock on his door, but he wouldn’t confront you. Staying silent and just waiting till the knocking subsided and you were out.

He still showed up to needed House warden meetings, or event planning, he did his duties as usual, he just didn’t do his duties being your boyfriend.

It was as if his insecurities when he was younger were relapsing whenever he thought of talking with you, was it okay to talk to you right now? He still thinks it’s not the right timing. He isn’t his usual self right now and he doesn’t want to risk doing anything bad.

However, it breaks his heart to see the sorrow in your eyes when you meet him and to see him neglect you. He was aware that the distance between you and his unwillingness to communicate about the situation was making your relationship unstable.

After three days of no contact, he was on top of Pomefiore’s garden, he missed you dearly, he gazed down to see his dormmates having tea under the recently renovated garden, then he noticed someone familiar within the garden, focusing his eyes on it, it was you! You looked… happy?

That was the smile that you usually only reserve for him, what’s going on? Vil thought to himself, confused as he ripped his eyes off you, only to notice Rook Hunt, touching you the way you would with a lover, giving you a gaze he never saw from Rook, but he knew what that was.

Rook liked you, both of them did, but he decided to step down in favor of letting Vil court you. He knew that feelings would never fade that easily but he didn't expect to see this sight. You two looked so perfect for each other, his hand touching yours as if you were having the time of your life, even without him. He clawed the railing of the balcony, not feeling his fingernails scrape the paint off of it, his eyes blurring as he walked away, fearing that he might fall if he ever passed out. His heartbeats were the only sound he could hear, aside from the static his ears were hearing.

“Breathe.”

He fell back into his bedroom, feeling his whole body shiver as he grips on his arm, numb to the pain that his nails were digging into his flesh. Cold sweat trickled down his face, he didn’t know if he was even breathing or not, his brain foggy, like an impending doom was going to happen if he once tried to “breathe.”

Vil ended up passing out, and unfortunately, the moment he woke up, it was already 5 am, he jolted awake, standing up, hearing a continuous knock from his door, He flinched as his head throbbed, touching it gently to try to ease his headache, he moved to the door, opening it, not expecting to see the person he least wants to see.

“Roi de Poison” Rook greets him, smiling brightly at him, Irritating. “I noticed you haven’t gotten up and gone to work yet, did you take a sick leave?” Rook continued, his voice filled with worry, he was about to fix the hair covering Vil’s face when he got his hand slapped away, startling him, he noticed the way Vil’s eyes darkened a bit.

“I’m fine” Vil affirmed, groaning a bit, he pinched the bridge of his nose as another headache hit his head again. “I’ll get ready, for the meantime, please take care of the dorm in my absence” He continued, replying curtly as he slammed the door shut before Rook could even say anything, He was sure that Rook would do as he says, if he didn’t, he’ll find a new vice housewarden.

Vil was already late for work, his disheveled look was barely noticeable but his manager noticed the slight imperfection in it. She walked up to him, fixing the sleeves of his outfit. “You’re late Mr. Schoenheit” She buttoned the sleeves, waiting for a response from Vil, who just sighed, “I apologize, something came up, can we start?”

You were getting worried, Rook went to your dorm, telling you about the state of Vil and that he was worse for wear, you decided that this time, you were going to visit and you were going to talk to him even if he didn't want to. It’s been dragging on for too long—the avoidance of your lover and the media is hurting you. You need to do something before your relationship reaches a breaking point.

When you arrived at the modeling agency where Vil works, you were graciously allowed in. You were familiar to those at the agency; some supported you, while others did not. However, the only support you needed was Vil's.

The moment you stepped inside the photoshoot, you saw Vil, working with another model, he looked gorgeous as always, although it seemed that he was tired; it was unusual for him to be in a state where it was obvious.

The manager noticed you before she ushered you further in, just to get nearer where Vil could see you, and Vil froze, stopping the shooting when he saw your face.

“I’m going to take a break,” he said to the crew members, seeing you, his gaze remained unfazed, “Let’s talk on the lounge” he murmured, walking past you.

You didn’t know what else to do but follow him, understanding that Vil wasn’t feeling well. The moment the two of you were alone, he went to give you apple juice, the one that Epel’s family sells, you give a gentle smile to him, but he didn’t reciprocate. It made your heart ache.

“What do you need?” he asked, sitting down on the opposite side of you. Reluctant to look at him, you fixed your gaze on the apple juice. “Are you feeling alright?” you asked, which made Vil chuckle, “That’s a funny question Y/n”

“I just wanted to know, You’ve been avoiding me for a while and-“You were cut off by Vil who placed the half-empty apple juice on the table. “I just needed some time to think, plus we agreed to lay low” He answered, which frustrated you “Vil, I heard from Rook that you turned up late during work" you were feeling nervous, and for the first time, your lover made you uneasy. "that never happened before,” you said, wanting to touch his hand, but he pulled it away, his eyes showing a trace of betrayal.

“What?” he asked, heart breaking as he looked at you, “Rook told you?”

“Of course he did, he’s a close friend of yours!” you protested, feeling a sense of desperation when Vil kept rejecting you, for the past few weeks, or months? You don’t know, but it’s been so long since you two last saw each other and stared at each other for more than just a glance, now you’re on the receiving end of his glare?

“You…” Vil murmured, before he finally let his body relax, his expression turning soft. “I think we should break things off.”

“What?” you gasped, gripping on the apple juice a little bit too hard, “Vil- “

“Why?”

Why? Vil wanted to answer why, there were plenty of reasons why, you two were just way too different, and the fact that if he pursued this relationship further, it’d hurt both of you more. It was clear that Rook liked you and you liked Rook, what is there to continue this relationship? Plus, the media will continue to see you as inferior, this will continue for a lifetime, and no matter what he can’t see why and how your relationship with him will continue without it getting toxic. He finally understood that he is way too much for you, his feelings would slowly wrap you around vines that contain poison, HIS poison. He was thinking of the future, and he can’t see it going beyond the challenges you two face.

He eventually responded, "I lost interest, I’m sorry, we both should focus on our careers first” He lied, not looking at you as well, you both were too hurt to even gaze at each other. You didn’t move or talk, so he decided to stand up, fixing his attire and looking cold. “I’ll be leaving now, hopefully, we can put this all behind us, I’ll have a taxi be ready to get you home when you’re ready.” he said, his heart aching, he wanted to hold you, but he stopped himself, “Just talk to the manager when you plan to leave” he continued, turning around before leaving the lounge.

The moment you left, the manager went up to him excitedly, he didn’t feel like celebrating at all when he found out that they tracked down who the journalist is and are now filing a lawsuit against them; at least on a positive note, you were out of the picture, out of the prying eyes of the media.

This was for the best, he thought to himself, feeling numb while he felt his chest tighten when he went back to work.

Word Count: 3418

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #angst #vil twst #vil x reader #vil x mc #vil x yuu #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending #rook x mc #rook x reader #twst rook #rook hunt

181 notes · View notes

muffinsin · 10 months ago

Note

Can you please write dimitriscu sisters with child reader ?

Where the reader is attacked by a lycan or something gets found by the sisters (separately) and the immediate response of the reader when seeing each women is calling them mama ? I don't know if you accept these but if you do can you write what their reaction would be ? And the aftermath of it ? Like how their mundane life would be?

I don't think this breaks any of your rules or preferences but I'm sorry if it did

-( I'm not new to your blog but this is my first request)💜

This is such an adorable, heartwarming request! It’s been in my inbox forever, so I’m very happy I can finally get to it! :) as it comes a mundane life; I doubt any of them would live one tbh! They are absolutely ready to treat this child like royalty🙌👀

Splitting this into 3 parts btw, due to the length of each. This is Bela’s part, Cassandra’s will be linked here, Daniela’s will be linked here once it’s out🙌

Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

Bela

She’s out hunting, at last not too busy to tend to this activity as well

It feels like it’s been forever since she last hunted with her sisters

Cassandra, despite her tough exterior, clings to her side subtly, hunting and retrieving prey only to bring it to Bela to show off. Daniela was less subtle, her arm hooked with Bela’s, her own hunt dismissed as she takes the opportunity to talk to her eldest sister and chat a little

Clearly, Bela is not the only one who missed this. Her heart aches a little knowing her busy work schedule forces her to neglect the time spent with her sisters

Where’d the time go? When did she become busy planning and working and managing things, rather than playing and looking out for her two younger sisters?

She shakes her head, dismissing these thoughts. She’s here now, she reminds herself

And as hours go on, she finds herself enjoying the hunt more and more again. Her senses are sharp, her reactions imminent

When Cassandra suggests a game, a competition of which sister can find the best prey within the last two hours left to them, she complies

Perhaps she could get a deer for them. She knows better than to go for varcalocs and larger lycans

What she doesn’t predict as she wanders and flies about, though, is the sweet, innocent cry she hears in the distance

No animal. A human

A cry, with no malice or aggression to be found

A helpless cry. A pained one. A scared one

A young one

Did a villager stray too far? But; the cry is so young, it can’t possibly come from an adult, from a hunter no less

Naturally, she investigates

And yet, when she finds you after moments already, she finds herself unprepared

You sit in the dirt, your back to her

Your little body shakes with every sob that leaves your wet lips. Your fingertips slide against the muddy ground anxiously, your other hand holding onto a stick far too rough for your small, soft hands

She frowns, unsure whether to make herself known or not

She can’t see your face, but you can’t be any older than eight, she figures

Upon inhaling, her nose scrunches up in disgust and her expression turns to one of concern. You reek of a lycan

Perhaps she should leave, she wonders to herself despite everything

She hardly ever stirs good emotions within people, after all. No matter their age

Yet..her heart aches and urges her to act with every little sob and cry that comes from you

Her natural instincts scream at her, urge her to act. She remembers her sisters, how they would cling and depend on her, look up to her, feel safe around her and only her

Something tugs at her heart when you begin hiccuping between your cries, your body shaking, your muddy hand raising to your face

She swarms around carefully, making sure she approaches you from the front rather than behind

When she does, though, she is greeted by yet another surprise

Upon getting close, she sees your wet, tear stained face. Your red cheeks, your puffy eyes, your wet lips, your red button nose

She spots the trap your leg is caught on immediately. A snare, the rope wrapped tightly around your little, swollen ankle

Yet, this isn’t what surprises her the most, but rather the words that fall from your wet lips the moment you lay eyes on her

“Mama!”, you all but yell desperately, your bottom lip wobbling, your muddy hands reaching out to Bela in a silent, desperate plea to be picked up

Mama?

She doesn’t quite understand, but doesn’t hesitate

Easily, she snaps the rope from around your ankle. Easily, her hands slip under your armpits and pick you up

You’re sat at her hip, carefully held by her. For once, she doesn’t care about her dress being dirtied by mud

“Mama!”, you repeat, your voice mixing with whimpers

She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know you

Yet, you seem so sure

“Bela”, she introduces herself

You stare at her blankly for a moment, then grin a little. Mama has a pretty voice

“Mama”, you confirm again

“Do I know you?”, she wonders. Could you be someone from her past life, maybe? It’s a life she has left behind after being infected, one she can’t remember, nor wishes to return to. She loves her family more than anything- Mother, Cassandra and Daniela. This is her family

You shake your head. No, you don’t know your mama. But you know, this is your Mama

With this, it seems you’re done talking. Bela gasps in surprise when you shift closer to her, your head rested on her chest, your little cries finally calming and quieting down as she rubs your small back lovingly

She doesn’t understand; don’t you know what she is? Probably not

And yet..she wants to keep you, and so she does

She holds you close to her as she walks back towards the castle again, a gentle smile on her lips as she sits and waits for her sisters

You’re cuddled up to her, a little bundle in her arms. You look…relaxed, like this

Still, she takes note of your swollen ankle, your cut cheek and dirtied face and clothing, your bruised ankle and the rash seemingly growing on your hands. You look malnourished, and almost sickly. She doesn’t notice, but holds you a little tighter

You seem so perfectly content in her arms, your little fingers hooked into her dress, your lips slightly parted as you sleep

“That’s a…unique catch!”

Bela jumps at Cassandra’s words and quickly turns to face her sister. In her hand she drags a wolf, nearly the same size as her, by far larger than you are

Next to her stands Daniela, a large, juicy deer dragged behind her, a big grin on her face

Bela rolls her eyes, her arms wrapping around you protectively

“They’re not for eating. I found them”, she clarifies, and with a stern glance, both her sisters shrug and refrain from more jokes

Once in the castle, Bela’s priority is to nurse you back to health

You whine sleepily as she draws you a warm bath and sets you down in it, but squeal in happiness almost at the many bubbles she’s added just for you

Bela carefully washes you, using a cloth and sponge to clean off all the dirt and mud still sticking to you

Thankfully, whatever lycan that was in proximity to you must have only scared you off, rather than attacking and landing a hit on you

You nearly fall asleep again when she washes your hair, her movements precise and careful

She ensures no water or soap gets in your tired eyes and scratches your scalp gently as she massages the soap into it and your hair

Soon enough, unruly and tangled hair is soft and clean and she can comb her fingers through it effortlessly

You aren’t familiar with this much warm water, bubbles and delicious scents and can’t help but cry and cling to her when it’s time to leave the bath again

You watch curiously as she dresses you, her touches gently and guiding, her voice soft as she talks you through it all

You glance around as she does

The fabrics are impossibly soft and good to your skin, her fingertips even more so. You don’t remember life at the village all too well, but recall the constant fear. You recall, your mother’s touch was never as soft and guiding as your Mama’s- Bela’s- is

Her room is large, larger than any house in the village. It’s also warmer than anywhere else you’ve ever been

When done dressing you, she rises, ready to find you something nurturing

But, the moment she moves from you, a hoarse whine and cry comes from you

Immediately, she picks you up and back into her arms, and likewise immediately you calm again

You mouth at her collarbone and shoulder, hungry, in pain, whining occasionally

When she walks out of the warm room, she notices you stare curiously

You hold onto her dress still, content to quietly stay with her. She doesn’t mind that you aren’t too talkative, instead opts for holding you close as she wanders to the kitchen

Inside, the staff immediately begins to gush about you. A child in the castle is…a rare sight, certainly

She doesn’t understand why; not yet, but possessiveness stirs up in her nearly immediately. She holds you closer to her, her emotions calming a little when you whine and push yourself closer to her in return

Now, each sister comes with a special, unique reputation

Daniela, the unpredictable one. Cassandra, the brutal one

Bela, the smart, level headed one

That is, until she isn’t anymore

You jump in surprise, a gasp, the loudest noise that’s come from you yet

A maid reaches out, and you flinch back instinctively. Yet, just when her fingers were about to touch your arm, Bela’s arm shoots out

As it does, her sickle is summoned and a single swipe is all it takes for the woman’s hand to come clean off

Three of the staff members scream, the others lower their gazes to the ground

You cry quietly, the noises all too familiar. And yet..you find it’s not all that bad, because your mama is still with you, still holding you close

You calm faster than Bela would’ve expected, even more so when the staff is dismissed and you’re left alone with her

And still, when she looks in your eyes…she doesn’t find fear like she expected

From this day on, you are practically inseparable

She is your mama, and everybody knows. You have her, her sisters and Mother wrapped around your finger

She teaches you to be strong, to be fast, to be smart. She guides you and inspires you, teaches you to go after your interests and encourages you to tend to your hobbies

She loves you, she realises very early on

The maternal connection between the two of you is pure, real, and immediate

She vows to always protect you, and always does. Always has, and always will

You’re her world

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #💜 anon

157 notes · View notes

penvisions · 1 year ago

Text

dev's masterlist {joel miller}

I've somehow expanded my writing enough to warrant a whole separate masterlist for the one and only Joel Miller! He's so diverse and there are so many facets to his character, so it's been fun to explore writing for him ♡ Keep in mind my blog and online spaces are strictly 18+ Each fic has its own masterlist post with links to chapters, warnings, and supplemental content! Happy reading! ♡

back to -> navigation || main masterlist

*Series / Multichapter Fics:

Title: return the favor Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader Status: complete Summary: With a past as rich as anyone in the times after the Outbreak, you find your medical and survival skills to be a valuable asset.You were dropping off some medical supplies that FEDRA was willing to pay big for when you got tangled up in a mission that involves a teenager with a mouth almost as smart as yours and gruff older man whose graying curls were his only redeeming quality. But the longer you traveled with them and the more that happened out in the open land of what once was, the more you find yourself connecting with them and wanting to protect them both at any cost.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: garnish Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader (a restaurant au) Staus: complete Summary: Summer is a time of fun and carefree days for those who are fortunate enough to not work within the food industry. You however have found yourself back in that world and so long were the days you could spend doing nothing. Along with the shift back to a world you once left behind is the figure of Joel Miller, who is as magnetizing as he is irritating that is now a part of your daily life.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: zest Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader) Status: work in progress Summary: With the passage of time, Joel Miller had shifted from ‘chef’ to something more. Your once hidden relationship a secret now out in the open. After a break in which you finished your degree and managed to land your dream job of teaching at the collegiate level, Joel had thrown himself into his work at the restaurant where you met. Back together and in far better mental places in your life, you both are caught off guard by the sudden news of being prospective parents. But things are always gonna get hectic because, of course, how else would things go with the two of you involved? It’d been that way for nearly two years after all.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: by the grit of sandpaper Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader (Artisan! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: complete Summary: Joel Miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. But settling in Jackson with his brother changed him for the better. He's known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. An offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: gone to the dogs Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: What happens when the world ends in such a violent way that it robs you of your very humanity? Do you submit or raise your hackles and fight back? The answer is obvious to Joel Miller, known for being someone to not to cross even in the most dangerous corners of the Boston QZ. The answer is obvious to you, too, who transformed in his likeness.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: stages of devotion Pairing: Younger! Joel Miller x Baker! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: Joel is navigating being a devoted single father to a teenage girl. And now that he's met you through complete surprise, he's determined to be the best partner too.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: services requested Pairing: Kept Man! Joel Miller x Sugar Momma! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: With the flourish of a contract that contains a section titled 'Intimacy Clause' and a quirk of your lips, you turn Joel Miller's life upside down.

ao3 link || series masterlist

*One Shots / Drabbles:

Title: for the record Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader Summary: The longer, more dangerous patrol routes around Jackson are designated to you and one Joel Miller. You both have an understanding with each other, talking wasn’t the biggest concern for either of you, but being confident in each other was. He wasn’t a bad friend in your scavenged life, but then again you were beginning to think you didn’t want to be just his friend…and that’s got you more than a little sexually frustrated.

ao3 link || direct link

Title: unexpected bloom Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader Summary: A single flower and a chance encounter brings color to your life.

ao3 link || direct link

Title: there's a place and time Pairing: Younger! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

ao3 link || direct link

{wristwatch}

{early morning filth}

{joel's morning wood}

*Construction Corner:

Title: black hole sun Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Waitress! Reader ; Jackson! Joel Miller x Survivor! Reader Status: under construction : to be posted soon! Summary: You carry memories of Joel Miller in your heart in the wake of the end of the world, someone who had once been a bright spot in the dull monotony of life. When you unexpectedly cross paths with him again, he’s no longer the young man you used to share moments with but an unforgiving dark spot that had been corrupted by the new world order. He’s gone in the blink of an eye once again, showing up months later to settle in Jackson as he’s turned into some convoluted mixture of each. Maybe time and circumstance will allow for you finally tell each other how you feel?

ao3 link || series masterlist

232 notes · View notes

7frenchfries · 10 days ago

Text

[ Sally Face Char. Analysis/Headcanons. ]

(Sal, Ash, Larry, Todd/Neil)

ALPHAS BACK W HER SHITTY AU, what i think it would be like if the cult wasn’t involved in their universe (yet) and they got past hs, main cast is estimated to be 18-19/freshman in college since thats how old I was when I first started writing this, i’m a procrastinator leave me alone :( , (some of the HCs will include the main protagonist but i tried to separate them for people who don’t care lmao), Dw tho most of these are just ab the main characters, we're borderlining between canon/non here, erm- can you tell i was watching south park while writing this?, also if u know me irl don’t think ab how hard I'm projecting onto these characters, take a shot everytime i say ‘really’ or ‘just’, you’ll end up on the floor, additional oc's don't have anything rn bc I'm still figuring out the tl so i’m gonna separate them from ppl who don’t wanna read.

( disclaimer: since he's the main story love interest, Sal will eventually have NSFW hcs at the very bottom of his list once i stop feeling embarrassed about it/ will be linked away for ppl who actually wanna check it out/)

My Sally Face playlist if u wanna listen while reading. DONT come at me if you don’t think it’s accurate, I just use it while writing for SF 🐺

My Sally Face Masterlist (WIP)

(additional oc’s sold separately at the bottom)

(Old fanart I made for my fic last year. Can you tell my brain has been infected?)

❅ Sal Fisher.

▪ He’s obsessed with the flavor of mint(?) only buys mint flavored toothpaste, gum, and well- mints. It's not even for his breath (necessarily) he just eats them like candy.

▫ Often had panic/anxiety attacks when he was a kid, it’s a lot better now that he’s gotten older but it used to be very bad before he moved to Nockfell.

(Has never taken Gizmo to professional training, but the felines learned to work/manage around Sals anxiety during an attack and can tell when other people are beginning to get anxious.)

(Bought himself a small cat plushie that looks like Gizmo to hang off his backpack.)

▪ The pink bit of his prosthetic is a piece from his previous mask (the last one was broken from an incident before in Jersey). When Sal and his mom were hospitalized after the attack, Sal chose the color for his mask since he knew pink was his moms favorite and wanted to surprise her when she woke up.

(He never got to show her because she died of organ failure during the recovery period. So now, Sal just keeps his prosthetic mismatched like that to carry around a piece of his mom everywhere.)

▫ Sal can’t really remember the color of his moms eyes, in his memories she’s just a hazy mob of blonde hair and soft smiles, but his dad used to say he had his moms eyes when he was younger.

▪ The best at words of affirmation. He appreciates physical affection (very very very much), but just isn’t used to it. Likes to reassure and praise the people he loves (doesn’t need to be in a romantic sense, he just cares a lot about the people who choose to be in his life, yk?).

▫ Smells like leather, cigarettes, and mints. He doesn’t wear strong cologne since his nose is sort of sensitive around them.

▪ Adapted this habit of staying ungodly still while he sleeps, continues doing it when he first wakes up in the morning too. He literally looks like a corpse and no one can ever tell if he’s actually sleeping or just laying there.

▫ Has a fascination with magic tricks. (sorry guys it the undiagnosed ‘tism) specifically with coins and cards. He carries around a pack of playing cards with him at all times to fidget with (wears baggy jeans/cargo pants with lots of pockets that are always full of things(?)).

(can’t be sneaky AT ALL ‘cause if you hear keys and shit jangling from down the hall, you just know it’s his ass.)

▪ Owns a knife collection and likes to do little tricks with them too. He’s also pretty good at knife throwing but at the expense of hidden holes left around his room due to bad aiming that he covers up with band posters (One time he and Larry played a game of tossing knives at apples stacked on top of each other’s heads and got caught by Lisa. Safe to say that was quickly put to a stop.)

▫ Hard of hearing in his right ear, his auditory nerves are slowly getting worse overtime so he wears a hearing aid. Sometimes if he’s feeling sassy when fighting with Larry, he’ll just take it out and be like “can't hear you,” shrugs and ignores him for like ten minutes (pisses Larry off because he knows Sal can literally hear him just fine from the other ear but he likes being dramatic to prove a point).

▪ Self-proclaimed professional ghost hunter. He has trouble sleeping at night so sometimes he’ll just go to random places and walk around for hours. He finds abandoned buildings or areas that just give off an unsettling vibe and then text the gc his location being like ‘we should ghost hunt here’/‘lots of ghostly aura’.

(for some reason everyone just goes with it more often than not, if they’re available at the time. There’s a duffle bag in the back of Sals truck filled with ‘hunting gear’ the groups accumulated over the years, most of which were just mini-projects Todd made).

▪ Actually has a pretty broad music taste. Only really dabbled in metal before meeting Larry. (listens to Weezer, Larry shits on him for it but he could care less.)

(Deftones changed his life.)

▫ Sleepwear is strictly flannel pants and whatever top is appropriate for the season. (granted, only 1/3rd of his pants are actually his, the rest are stolen from his dad or Larry /pretty sure there's at least one pair of Todds/)

▪ Goes thrifting with Larry high (hits the bong in the car before going in /not based on personal experience lol/).

▫ Owns two pairs of shoes; beat-up old red converse from highschool and some thick black boots (decorated w chains n junk).

▪ Gizmo has a habit he’s adopted from when he was a kitten of hanging off Sals shoulders like a scarf. When Sal was younger (and smaller) he’d do it to choke the boy but now that he’s a bit bigger, Sal just walks around the apartment carrying him casually.

▫ Skateboards but only at night; he’s a fast learner but he’s also a little clumsy so he falls quite a bit. (to get away from all the stares he and Larry /sometimes the gang/ will just go when it’s deserted. Larry takes the opportunity to smoke and draw large murals/ graffiti art on the courses.)

▪ A relatively safe diver. He’ll need a little help with the blindspots if it’s dark out but overall compared to Larry or Ash, he’s a saint.

▫ He does do drugs sometimes (lmao sorry y’all). It's not as bad as it used to be (and trust me, it was bad) but he’s tried a lot of different substances before. It mostly stemmed from being prescribed a shit load of pain meds when he was a kid after his facial surgery.

(He knows it's terrible for him and that he needs to quit but he aches for temporary quick-fixes to distract himself /he’s self aware and it keeps him up at night).

▪ It didn’t really become a habit until highschool and he did a pretty good job at hiding it from his friends until Larry found him unceremoniously passed out in the bathroom one morning.

▫ Yeah. After that he kind of had to cold turkey it and force himself to detach from hard substances. It's been a while since he’s relapsed and he strictly only partakes in one joint a week with Larry but he’s learned to like the mello feeling of inhaling second hand smoke.

(Kind of why he was originally hesitant about getting on prescription medication for his depression/ that and he hates the hazy numbness that lingers afterwards.)

▪ Refuses to touch alcohol though, mostly because he grew up watching his dad turn to a bottle rather than deal with his own feelings so I don’t think he’ll ever really consider it (kinda also the reason why he’s so grateful to Lisa because Henry improved a lot after moving away from Jersey and getting a new job).

(he isn't sober but he really is trying to be better)

▫ Sweet tooth like crazy but has a knack for sour candies, but like-obscenely sour. (Freak.)

▪ Anemic, this man is literally transparent (sorry). You can see the veins running up and down his wrists tho :) (‘n some of them pop out a little bit/ even more so when he plays guitar).

▫ Cold hands. Skinny-ish fingers, but they’re long and his finger knuckles are a bit bulky. (The skin is surprisingly soft despite the scabbed scars on his knuckles.) (like i said; self improvement at a linear rate or whatever.)

▪ Kind of becomes a workout junkie with Larry towards the end of highschool when he first tried getting off substances. (He can’t really overwork himself because of his asthma at times but he’s learned to enjoy it) They used to go to the public gym but now have a set up in Larry’s room.

▫ Loves beach/lake days with the group, hates swimming/or getting his hair wet. Sure, the idea is fun but the water’s always cold, and his clothes always feel heavy and sticky- no. (the most you’ll get out of him is dipping his feet ‘n legs into the water and that’s it)

▪ Still wears old band-tees from middle/highschool but since he’s a bit bulkier now they fit a lot better.

▫ Has a 200+ photo album of nonsensical twitter posts/memes he giggles at (will send in his new favorites into the group chat monthly)

▪ Slight jersey accent lowkey, was way more prominent when he first arrived at Nockfell. It's drowned out more now, but whenever he’s angry/annoyed, it’ll slip through a few syllables.

▫ Learning how to speak spanish. Lisa and Larry teach him a little bit day by day (even though Larry definitely had a period of time where he was tricking Sal into saying unhinged shit without knowing).

(Sal found out and shot Larry in the face with a water gun shortly after/ now he no longer trusts Larry anytime his brother asks him to repeat certain phrases he doesn’t understand yet.)

▪ (sassy man apocalypse tbh)

▫ Has the kind of ‘tism where he’s obsessed with music. Writes and composes his own songs written in a (diary) journal hidden inside his pillow, but there’s no way he’d actively show anyone else.

(Sometimes when everyone is hanging out together, he’ll play them some chords but refuses to tell them where he heard it from, likes pretending the secret music he makes is some other underground artist he’s gatekeeping lmao.)

▪ Has created multiple playlists dedicated to his friends, gets really into it and then spends hours curating them.

▫ Piercing count : snake bite, 5-10 mm gauges in his ears (i'm not too familiar with the sizing for them but like a pinkie size), two helix and a tragus on his right ear, one helix on his left (he had another but that one healed wrong so he let the hole close up) and two lobe studs above the gages.

(not a piercing but his tongue is forked lol. He’s into body modifications lowkey but only because he’s like there’s nothing worse than getting shot in the face. Lmao sorry.)

( not that educated regarding piercings but i tried)

▪ (exclusively) wears silver jewelry. His favorite is a ring that was apparently from his deceased grandfather on his mothers side; it’s a thick band with a shiny black diamond encased in the middle (it only fits on his thumb tho).

(wears specifically chunky vintage rings)

▫ He only has sparse patches of eyebrow hair on the side where his scarring is so he cut a slit into his brow on the other side to ‘match’ (Larry did the same thing on his right eyebrow to copy Sal in HS before he got his piercings).

▪ Does wears makeup (it’s only really eyeliner/and sometimes a dark eyeshadow but nothing for his face, his skin is too sensitive and it causes breakouts underneath his mask if worn for prolonged periods/ he has to be careful around his scarred eye too, nothing too close to the waterline or else it might get irritated). Has tried gothic makeup before, in the comfort of his own room.

(One night, Larry woke up to some sounds coming from down the hall and in his half-sleepy ridden state, he nearly shit himself because he thought he saw a ghost. In actuality, it was just Sal coming out of the dark bathroom, face ghostly white with black markings sharpening his features, and the surrounding darkness did NOT help (Larry’s vision is shit. He literally thought he saw a demon again). Sal- (who was sleep deprived, running off three Red Bulls and a pack of cigarettes) only blinked in confusion when he heard Larry's door slam shut because he thought his brother was sleeping already but didn’t think much of it before sluggishly making his way back to his room.)

(nightcrawler Sal who refuses to turn on the hallway light at night when he goes to the bathroom because it’s “a bother”. He thinks everyone’s being concerned for him when they ask him to turn the lights on, when in reality he’s just accidentally scaring the shit out of his family atp.)

▫ Wears black nail polish most of the time but he doesn’t mind other colors, his favorites to use are purple or red.

▪ Has a very intricate spine tattoo that vaguely resembles a thin abstract centipede Larry designed for him (starts from the very edge of his back hairline, reaches down to his upper tailbone).

▫ Owns a display box full of different eye prosthetics. He's played around with a bunch of different colors and fun pupil shapes before but usually just sticks to colors similar to his own eye.

❅ Ash(ley) Campbell.

(kinda sad bc I feel like I don't have enough hcs for Ash :( I looked up as much as I could but there's not a lot of fics/hcs for her. )

▪ Has a younger brother (Benjamin) there's quite an age difference between them (19 and 4 years old). She adores him though, dresses him up every halloween/holiday and has a photo collection of his costumes throughout the years.

▫ Her motorcycle is an old bike gifted to her by her dad when she turned seventeen. That same summer, she learned how to work on it, fixing it up and cleaning out the gears with her dad.

(Ash being one of the only other people in the group that has a normal relationship w/ her parents lmao)

▪ Chronic nail biter so they’re always short. Uses black polish religiously, doesn’t like extensions because they never last long and get in the way (the last time she got them, she ended up chewing through the acrylic/ tastes like actual shit and she swore never again).

▫ She has a spam/private account on every social media page, mostly just live tweets while hanging out with the guys to complain about them (I say them like it’s not mostly Larry doing stupid, loud shit in the butt-fuck middle of nowhere during a ghosthunt).

▪ Post low-grade quality pictures of Larry so people will stop simping for him (it doesn’t even work, they always want more of him).

▫ Loves watching long commentary videos about Reddit forms, her favorites are the shitty two horror story sentences and AITAO.

▪ Has a pet garter snake! His name is Riddler (don't ask, you don't wanna know) but she calls him Ridley. She has a personal preference for reptiles and has owned a few different ones before.

▫ Used to be a theater kid all throughout middle/up till early high school (still listens to Hamilton like it’s her dirty little secret).

▪ Smells like jasmine and kinda earthy(?). Likes the smell of jasmine perfume because it's her moms favorite scent.

▫ My favorite man hating lesbian fr, always putting Larry in his place.

(that being said, they both bring out the competitive side from each other, drinking games are the worst because at that point they’re just trying to see who can withstand blacking out first)

▪ Ash usually only takes photographs but has been dabbling with video recording as of late since she does them for the groups ghost hunting adventures (it’s mostly just to keep track of things and watch for ‘anomalies’).

(The closest thing you’ll get to a group vlog is funny clips she posts from editing the ghost hunting footage.)

▫ She’s kind of a lense/camera freak (like markiplier iykyk), Ash has owned a lot of different cameras over the years and has gotten to know what specific things she might like about them. So now, she’s kind of picky about her cameras- she just wants the perfect pictures fr.

▪ Her walls are lined with polaroids. She likes taking nature shots whenever the gang goes out to explore any woodsy area but most of her favorite pictures are ones of her friends or family. She got her first baby camera when she was like twelve and hasn’t stopped since then so she’s taken A LOT of pictures. There are some in boxes, hidden away in her family's attic, but most of them are inside picture books she’s collected and curated over the years.

▫ Loves the concept of being a plant mom but will literally kill anything green within a 10ft radius.

▪ Not strictly monogamous, she’s pretty open about sexuality and intimacy. (not in a bragging way, but bc she doesn’t think sex is something that you should be afraid of(?) (in moderation ofc).

▫ Has freckles! She mostly only has them on her face but they come out more in the summertime. If it gets hot outside and she wears a top showing skin, you’ll see the speckles of them on her back and chest.

▪ Also not that easy to win over romantically. She’s just having fun for now but she’s not against a relationship (has yet to find someone she’s serious about, but when she does meet someone she's into, she will be upfront about it pretty quickly).

▫ THE girl's girl- she loves women. not even because of her sexuality she just appreciates women sm, and would give the world to make a girls day (even if they’re strangers).

▪ Mapple is her childhood best friend, they met in middle school at theater (maple was more of a tech crew girl tho).

▫ She's not into self-deprecating humor. Especially if you're her friend, she doesn’t like it when people put themselves down, even if it’s meant as a joke she won’t find it funny.

▪ Still has yet to cry in front of any of the boys. She advocates for communication and talking about your emotions but still tries to look strong in front of others. (it's the eldest sister in her)

▫ Her bedroom walls have been the same eye-itching vibrant purple color since she was a little kid. She hates it(?) but kind of loves it(??) so it’s staying for now. Most of her walls are covered in pictures and posters anyway, so it’s easy to ignore.

▪ Confrontational, will address an issue with you if she thinks there is one (it's only bc she cares about her friends, yk? She wants there to be no miscommunication because she thinks it could be easily avoidable).

▫ Piercing count : Has a smiley, a stud on her left nostril, and an industrial on her right ear.

▪ Likes metal but prefers softer-more alternative/indie-rock vibes.

(her playlists are best for late night drives home)

▫ Laser tag god. Her and Larry are pretty on par with each-other skill wise, she’s good strategically and is stealthy/ Larry shoots like a madman but he's fast, puts his whole pussy into full body dodging an attack (there's definitely been times where they decided to team up and take out everyone else to share the prize. 50/50 chance at the end where one might betray the other just to gain an upper hand).

▪ Comfort accessory is her biker gloves; plain-black leather and fingerless. It’s practical for her bike and she thinks they make her outfits cuter (she’s right).

▫ Leftie, learned how to use her other hand but her handwriting isn’t as consistent with her right one. (Larry calls her the double handed devil.)

▪ Has perfected her everyday makeup look, has been doing it since highschool (she used to wear falsies but is now a mascara girlie, chalk it up to laziness tbh)

(Black eyeliner 4ever tho. You could never make her get rid of it.)

▫ Ultimate sleeper build. She’s tall, the third tallest out of the main group and she’s lean too. If she doesn’t wear hoodies or sweaters that hide her figure, it wouldn’t be hard to notice the slight muscles that protruded out with her every move.

(She doesn’t work out as often as Larry or Sal but she still looks so good omg.)

▪ Erm. Also in my AU, Ash is kinda masc(?) she just likes wearing boy clothes because they’re more comfortable and she hates wearing a bra.

(She still sluts it out every once in a while tho, don’t get me wrong.)

▫ Has cut and colored her own hair since early middle school. In her sophomore year, she chopped all her hair off into a really short pixie cut because it honestly felt like deadweight. She’s been wearing her hair short ever since, now she doesn't really let it grow past her chin.

▪ She’s actually gained a few followers online (like A LOT) since she’s so active and is relatively popular. She doesn’t talk to everybody but she’s nice to her classmates and other acquaintances, so people love her.

(Her feed is entertaining to viewers since she’s always out doing something, either by herself or with the gang. Most of the time, she just posts pictures she takes of her friends or parties they go to.)

▫ Started sending in overly dramatic, heavily fonted texts into the group chat after seeing it online. Todd hates it so sometimes the others will copy her and button spam in glittery fonts and emojis until Todd turns his phone onto DND.

▪ Look- Ashley’s known her friends for forever, practically most of her life by now. And she loves them, she really does, but god was she happy to finally befriend another girl other than Maple.

❅ Larry Johnson.

▪ Larry is unlabeled, he doesn’t have any specific preferences. He gets crushes easily but they never really evolve more than that. He’s never been in a committed relationship yet, the longest relationship he had was with Ash in freshman year (they dated for like a week before they realized there was no romantic chemistry).

(they laugh about it now)

▫ Likes to skateboard (has a collection of old boards hung on his wall) and he’s pretty good at it. He broke his nose when he was sixteen attempting a kickflip (drunk) off a stair railing. It healed back a little crooked ever since. (also chipped his right front tooth in the process)

▪ He has a shelf above his bed lined with a miscellaneous bong collection. He's gathered a few over the past year, either gifted to him or bought by friends.

▫ Obsessed with incense so his room always smells like them to cover up the persisting weed scent (an ex-situationship introduced them to him and he just picked up the hobby).

▪ Currently working two jobs, a pizza place and a part-timer at a tattoo shop. He's planning on quitting soon to be a full time Tattoo artist.

(he’s already given most of the gang piercings/or tattoos)

▫ Tats and pierces himself, he can manage fine with getting tats but cringes at any type of piercing needles. (also HATES getting shots) it’s kind of funny considering how many piercings he has but each time he gets a new one, he still acts like a baby about it.

▪ Larry had a stillborn little sister, devastated by her loss; his parents never told him if they had a name planned so he came up with one on his own. Isabella. (sometimes he’ll look at the stars and talk to her, calls her Isa)

(Larry never knew of his dads.. Otherworldly origins but he does feel a pull towards the stars and sky. He finds it funny how they bring him comfort and he doesn’t even know why.)

▫ Strictly only buys watermelon flavored gum.

▪ Got called out by teachers a lot when he was still in school. He’s not a terrible student, and it’s not like he’s trying to be rude; he just believes that people should earn his respect. And it's not hard too, as long as you’re not a dick, Larry’s pretty chill but he’s too laid back and blunt for old people to tolerate (granted, the everlasting weed stench that sticks to his clothes everywhere he goes doesn’t help much either).

(not inclined to listen to positions of authority, other than his mother) (‘respects where respect is due’ or whatever that one guy said)

▫ Type of bro to keep one arm around your shoulder after a hug. He’s already as tall as an oak tree, but since he’s started working out his arms are HUGE. (basically, he gives the best hugs)

▪ Barely cares about his personal hygiene (sorry y’all but trust, he was WAY stinkier in hs) but has an in-depth, weekly hair care routine where Lisa will oil his scalp while he complains to her about whatever drama is going on at work or school.

▫ Lisa waxes his eyebrows too, or threads them (depending on her mood) (which btw he has those perfect 2016 eyebrows istg).

▪ Smells like weed, and faintly of campfire smoke and maple. He has a specific cologne that he’s always doused head-to-toe in (Sally doesn't let him spray it inside the car or else he’ll start sneezing like crazy so Larry has to wait until the drive is over to spray himself down).

▫ Hot tempered. He can easily get irritated by others if they say the wrong thing the wrong way (can control it better if he’s around his friends). But on the off chance someone is messing with say Sal or the girls? Larry’s stepping in like an overprotective mama bear, doesn’t matter how big the other guy is, he’ll still take him on.

(He’s the eldest of the group, and even though he’s usually the one causing trouble or being silly, he still feels responsible for everyone if anything happens (and Larry draws the line when it comes to harassment towards his friends))

▪ After finding bands he likes (if they’re popular enough) he’ll watch movie documentaries/or video essays about the group.

▫ Does, in fact, own a friendship bracelet making kit for when he and his friends are stoned (wears whatever bracelets his friends make for him on his left wrist/ shows them off at work to his coworkers like a proud dad).

▪ Owns a lion stuffie from when he was a child, it’s dirty and tattered (basically looks like a questionable dishrag) but he refuses to let it go.

“His name is King Bart and he will be buried with me when I die.”/ “Dude, what the fuck?-”

▫ Sometimes puts his hair into a braid while he’s painting, other times he’ll just use a claw clip he stole from Ash (pre-lesbian chop).

(doesn’t like it if strangers touch his hair but will let the girls play with it; braid, brush, doesn’t care as long as he can keep himself busy.)

▪ Bad vision, istg he’s always squinting at everything. He isn’t even high; he just can’t see and refuses to wear his real glasses (even though they’re literally sitting on his nightstand).

▫ Has SO many moles and body freckles. His skin is really sensitive to scented products and he has mild eczema. (it’s mostly on his shoulders/upper arms and chest)

(since Yuné has eczema too she’ll help/remind him to apply his ointments)

▪ THE cockiest mf during a game, doesn’t matter if it’s something small or even if he’s absolute dog shit at it. (WILL shit talk you throughout the entire game to piss you off/catch you off guard. but if he ends up losing, he’ll act like he let you win/ ignore the fact he came in last place)

▫ Has a ‘secret’ pet rabbit named Bombon. He still hasn’t told Lisa about her (she literally knows). He originally bought it because he felt bad for blowing up Mrs. Gibson's rabbit but he was too nervous to actually give it to her.

▪ Second to Todd, he’s also a hardcore gamer, he likes horror games/or anything with co-op. The whole gang will get on occasionally but it’s mostly him and todd. (he was an among us fanatic when it first came out/but not in the meme way, it was his special interest for like five months and he forced the others to play with him)

(type of mf that would keep count of how long someone spent at a task station and then accuse them of being the imposter. AND HE WAS RIGHT TOO.)

▫ Into video games but not that big of a fan of general social media. He just doesn’t really think about it since he’s always so busy, doesn’t feel the need to post things unless it's his art or if he and the gang went somewhere together (but will also be the first person to like your post/tweet).

(def has notifications turned on for all his friends)

▪ Always found a way to get a job ever since he could have one. He’s skilled in random things because of the different amount of odd-jobs he’s had over the years.

▫ He also has a motorcycle that was gifted to him from Lisa, originally owned by his dad, so it was pretty old but Lisa wanted to wait until he was a bit older to ride it. (Mostly out of concern for his safety lmao) Ash had to help show him how to clean and get it working.

▪ He usually just drives his shitty Honda accord bc it’s more convenient going to and from his jobs in a real car. But sometimes he and Ash will ride their bikes together.

▫ He’s the type of mf to wear a tee-shirt while it’s literally snowing outside and would still make fun of you?? For being cold???

▪ People might think he's a bit of a troublemaker but he really does care about what his mom thinks of him. It would kill him if he ever disappointed her, they became a lot closer after his dad’s disappearance and he doesn’t want to see Lisa in a state like that ever again.

▫ Chronic head-patter. He towers over everyone in the group (even tho he and Todd are pretty close in size, it doesn’t stop him) so he’s always giving someone a head pat, or keeping an arm around them. He’s just rlly touchy but and doesn’t even realize it, his body just moves that way naturally.

▪ Needs at least two hair ties if he wants to wear his hair up, which is why he prefers claw clips.

▫ He’s helping Sal learn spanish but if anyone asks him to translate a meme that he thinks is actually funny, he won’t tell them what it means (and then he’ll save the picture for later while just giggling to himself).

▪ Piercing count : Has a septum, bridge piercing, two on his left brow, two helix in his right ear and then stitched out gages (his tongue is pierced too)

❅ Todd Morrision/ Neil Douglas.

( I put Todd and Neil together bc I don't think I have enough for either of them, also I see them as an unbreakable pair, cannot make a head canon for one without adding the other. #soulmates)

▪ Todd is a horror fanatic, specifically for sci-fi heavy plots, anything with a lot of technical charm and visual effects. Neil will sit through them for Todd (he enjoys them, yeah) but he prefers shitty rom-coms, though. When they have movie date nights, the two of them will just binge watch Aliens and Neil lets Todd quote basically all the lines (even if they both have the movies memorized at this point).

▫ Neil smells like neroli and freshly brewed coffee/ Todd smells like vanilla and baby powder.

▪ Neil is a coffee enthusiast, but not in the performative tiktok way where he makes a show out of drip brewing, his daily coffee to water ratio intake is insane.

(he also eats those little caramel flavored candies all the time, and keeps at least two in his wallet.)

▫ Todd will drink coffee but only black (like a FREAK), he usually prefers energy drinks but they lowkey taste like battery acid. (Yuné made the mistake of taking an offered sip from his can during lunch and almost hacked all over the table).

▪ Toward their final years of college, Todd and Neil move into an apartment together and invite the gang out to go home decor shopping with them. (candle shopping w them>>)

▫ Todd experiences hand tremors and is epileptic.

▪ Todd is also a part of the eczema gang lmao. Usually appears on the back of his hands or forearms, it's mostly because he likes to experiment around with his inventions and shit gloveless (Todd says fuck OSHA).

(not really, he just honestly forgets and hates the feeling of his hands being suffocated).

▫ Todd is the one in the relationship who has to get the spiders ‘n bugs because Neil will shit his pants if he sees one (one time Neil saw a spider in the corner of Todd’s tub during a shower and he shrieked so loudly Sal even walkie-talkied them to make sure the apartment wasn’t being haunted again).

▪ Bonus: Todd doesn’t even care at all about the bugs. If it’s in his own house, he’s honestly fine with them existing there as long as it’s not an invasive or poisonous species. But he’ll take them outside for Neil, just to get him to calm down (doesn’t quite work bc Todd grabs them with his bare hands and that freaks Neil out even more).

▫ Neil goes to a different school than the gang on the outskirts of Nockfell because that's the closest beauty school (it's about an hour drive from the Addison apartments but he still comes down to see Todd every weekend).

▪ Neil is a cosmetologist, specifically a hairdresser. Todd is currently a psychology/engineering major.

▫ When he’s not coding or making an experimental engineering project, Todd likes to play video games. He’s literally goated man idk. It takes Todd less than a day to become really good at a game.

(Irritates Larry because he’ll literally be the one to introduce Todd to a specific game, only to find out a week later the redhead is significantly better than he is).

▪ While Todd's considered the more quiet one in the group, when he’s with Neil, he never stops talking. Whether it’s about school, or games, or his latest fixated movie series- Neil is a great listener, so it’s really easy for Todd to feel comfortable around him (not that he isn't comfortable around his friends but with Neil it’s different).

▫ Todd doesn’t like needles either but Larry convinced him to get one tattoo so the latter could get his “practice” in ( so TODD HAS A SMILEY FACE ON HIS BUTT IDC).

▪ Neil’s chill with needles, he actually really likes getting tattooed by Larry a lot. Surprisingly enough, Larry’s pretty serious about his passion for tattooing and he makes the experience enjoyable ( included with small talk and snacks).

▫ Neil makes fun of Todd every summer because the redhead is just as transparent as Sal is so he cooks under the sun. Give it like ten minutes before Todd's all red and sweaty- god forbid he shows his arms to the sunlight without some form of protection, he’d literally burn alive.

▪ Neil is the type of boyfriend who’s really sweet and affectionate, likes to do things romantically by the textbooks/ but the way Todd shows affection is by calling him dude bro and doxing anyone that messes with Neil (jk kind of).

▫ Okay, Todd doesn't dox people… but if say Larry was getting pissy over voicechat with some random dick during a game.. All he has to do is send Todd the message and the poor guy will suddenly find his home address leaked in the chat.

❅ General Group Hc's.

(super random but since i was in school i thought about this)

▪Larry has super coarse/thick hair. It’s not tightly curled, but the natural beach waves go CRAZY. (you’d think this man goes to sleep in a roller set omfg) His mom has naturally curly hair but her curls have fallen out over time from heat damage. (Lisa just usually wears her hair up anyways but she has thought about bringing the curls back)

▫ Sal’s hair is pretty fine and straight. (it’s SUPER soft tho). He cuts his own hair with his dads old straight razors. He never brushes it so it keeps its poof shape(?) (if you dump water on his hair he’ll look like a wet cat)

(he’s naturally blond) re-colors his hair every two-three weeks. (also i can’t remember if this is canon or not/ but i hc that since he and his dad aren’t super close, henry decided to color his hair to match w sal/he’s kinda awkward but he’s trying to make an effort)

▪ Ash has medium-coarse hair, it’s pretty straight. (before her big chop) her hair was really heat resistant so it never stayed even if it was curled. In highschool she used to have random strands of colors throughout her head which faded out. (by the time of senior year she cut it all off into a short-short pixie and has been growing it ever since/w some regular trims)

▫ Also side note but Todd has really curly hair but was never taught how to maintain them until he met Neil. Since then Todd and Neil help each other with their hair, Todd’s trying to learn how to do natural/protective styles for Neil (he’s gotten really good at semi- freeform locs bc it’s Neil’s favorite way to have his hair). And Neil will help him detangle and moisturize his hair after a shower while they talk or relax.

(Larry never really felt the need to cut his hair but WAS convinced into getting an under layer buzz cut in sophomore year that he’s currently growing out (around that time he did wear his hair up a lot))

▫ (when she had longer hair) Ash and Larry created a routine of pulling on each other's hair. At first it was an accident, Ash just wanted to get his attention for something and tugged on his hair (it wasn’t even hard) but after that Larry did it back to her in retaliation (MUCH HARDER THAN SHE DID) (he’s so brother core omfg, like a literal menace to society). And then the game just kept going on from there.

(okay, now let's pretend I didn't just spend the last five minutes talking about literal hair. I'm insane, ik.)

▪ Larry likes black licorice, Yuné likes the red kind; Sal and Ash just hate licorice in general and definitely poke fun at the other two for subjecting themselves to it. (i don’t really see Todd being a BIG sweets person but i do think he like sour candies)

▫ Larry and Sal have a tradition where they hangout once a week up in the treehouse alone. They just smoke and listen to music, talking about their shitty days or letting the silence comfort them when things get too much.

▪ Ash forced Yuné into watching Gossip Girl for like three days straight, started off as a ‘go piss girl’ joke Yuné didn’t understand and suddenly they’re three seasons in (i’ve never watched an episode of GG).

(The group has monthly sleepovers, the designated place will rotate between each person’s home but if they’re sleeping at Ashley’s, her and Yuné will force the boys to watch Rupaul's Drag Race w/ them. Larry and surprisingly Todd(?) really like Bad Girls Club/ messy bitches that live for drama tbh.)

▫ Since both Todd and Larry are horror movie connoisseurs (self-proclaimed), the latter likes to propose absurd questions to the group like ‘which movie villain would beat who’ or ‘would you smash freddy Krueger for one night if it meant your insides could withstand his claws’... shit like that.

(And Larry takes his horror movie debates VERY seriously, even if you find better contextual evidence against him, he’s still standing his ground)

▪ Sal runs cold so he’s always wearing socks (white socks only) but Larry refuses to wear them inside the house no matter how cold his feet get. Sometimes he’ll put his cold feet on Sals leg just to bother him (like when they’re playing games to throw him off/or at the dinner table. Usually ends with them ‘playing footsie’ (they’re kicking each other as hard as they can in the shins))

▫ Sally’s chronically online in the way where he likes to scan the internet to save funny, relatable memes/ Ash IS chronically online- but to the point where she knows everything that’s happening right now on each of the forums. Larry’s too busy to be worried about social media stuff but he does enjoy getting the occasional low grade reaction pictures from Sal, and Ash always keeps him updated on any current events on the timeline anyways, so there’s no point.

(Sometimes Ash will talk with brain rot vocabulary and it throws Larry off so hard. But it’s funny watching his expressions afterwards when she tries explaining it to him)

“... that’s stupid as fuck.” / “I know, dumbass. That’s the point.”

▪ (for future reference) Chug and Maple went to uni for about two years before having Soda.

(Woah there. haha i totally did not forget ab Chug and Maple other than this one Hc… spare me..?)

▫ Chug is such a girl dad tho omg. I see him working a blue-collar type of job so he’s also too busy to be chronically online like some of the others. But on the few occasions he is posting, it’s mostly just about Maple and Soda.

▪ Soda is so spoiled because she’s the first kid out of the group, everyone likes getting her gifts and toys. Sometimes if Chug wants to take Maple out on a date, the others will watch her for them.

▫ Travis and Larry used to be close friends as children but got distant after Travis’ dad got worse and Larry’s fathers disappearance. Travis started to take his frustration out on other kids (i see larry as the type to defend others, especially if they’re not the type to fight back) and it caused resentment on both sides.

(Also unsure of which chapter I'm gonna put this in, but Travis leaves Nockfell with his parents right after senior year because the church was trying to spread and migrate around the country to sister organizations.)

▪ Yuné and Ash bake together! The boys can’t cook for shit, save for Todd who only knows a few recipes from his parents (he’s still not really a baker though) and Neil .

(Neil can cook but he’s the type to say he’s going to make something simple and it ends up taking over two hours but the result is a five course meal so it’s definitely worth it. )

▫ But they still like hanging around when the girls bake. Mostly to just watch and mess with shit (Sal’s a good boy only when Larry isn’t roping him into things, and Todd will watch and maybe help with easy stuff like stirring or grabbing ingredients).

▪ Sometimes on rare days when he’s not busy, Neil will come by and he’ll actually help them unlike some people... Larry takes the liberty of eating their creations, and since he’s a FREAK, half the time he doesn’t even wait for it to cool down before he’s shoveling the steaming sweet treats into his mouth like a squirrel saving for winter.

▫ They're not sure why, but ever since elementary school Ash and Larry have always had at least one class together in their schedules. They only became friends in middle school but have been growing up around each other for forEVER.

#okay #literal word vomit #that was a lot #my bad #sorry LMAO #this shit took forever to edit omg #I need to edit this again :(#sally face #sally face fandom #sally face headcannons #sal fisher #ashley campbell #larry johnson #todd morrison #neil douglas #original character #sally face fanart

14 notes · View notes

riveriafalll · 10 months ago

Text

WIP INTRODUCTION POST:

when stars collide (black holes form)

(formerly known as character meets death (goes wholesome?) )

WSC is a Harry Potter, Marauders era isekai fanfiction, starring an OC from our world, who dies and is reincarnated into the body of four year old Callidora Black, twin sister to Bellatrix Black. On the way, she briefly meets death, hence the original title.

It's important to note for continuity, that I've messed around a little with both the sibling order and the birth years for this fic - since I needed Calli to stay a little longer at Hogwarts, Andromeda is the oldest Black, Bella and Calli being two years younger than that, Narcissa another two years, Sirius another two years, and then Regulus one year after that.

Callidora has a list of things she needs to achieve, first being to make her new family somewhat stable, and to bring them close enough that nothing will separate them. She spends the first seven years in her new body doing just that, making sure that Sirius and Regulus are closer than anything, that Andy isn't the sole protector of her sisters, that Bellatrix feels like she's enough and doesn't need the glory of the Death Eaters.

The next seven years at Hogwarts bring many challenges and new friends - notably her best friend, Tommy Connolly (a canon character mentioned once who I stole), who is the human equivalent of a golden retriever in a flower crown, and who no one can understand why he is friends with the ice queen of Slytherin. (Look, Calli didn't *mean* to get that title, she was just so busy trying to fix everyone she meets and prevent the worst of the canon events, that she forgot to socialise outside of threatening people who hurt her family.)

In amidst smuggling schemes, illegal animagus transformations, money-making loopholes (who thought it was a good idea to make galleons solid gold?) and being dragged onto the Quidditch team by her precocious twin, Calli still manages to find the time to keep an eye on young Lily Evans, her sister Petunia and their best friend Severus Snape, her reckless cousin, as well as the future Skittles who really ought to have more adult supervision.

And Voldemort? Well, he really ought to have known better than to fuck with a Black. Especially one who's had to deal with over a decade of Lucius Malfoy. (He might not be a death eater this time round, but that little shit was marrying her sister, and torment was part of the sister in law contract)

I'll be putting up a character intro post soon, I'll link it here and in my masterlist when its done, in the meantime, if there's any questions you want to ask, my inbox and dm's are always open!

#writeblr #writerscommunity #writing #my wips #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing community #current wip #ao3 #harry potter fanfic #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #ocs #isekai

4 notes · View notes

gerhardtz · 1 year ago

Text

📌 WELCOME!

I'm Josh (He/Him/His). I'm an artist & fanfiction writer from Cornwall. Currently hyperfixated on FX Fargo Season 2 & Xenoblade Chronicles X.

MOST RECENT FIC UPDATE:

Drop It, Doe Eyes - Chapter 3: Change of Heart (2.9k words)

That night had scared him back into action – he could see now that he had been growing complacent since Jethro had moved out. He’d always been a fragile thing stuck in a dangerous place, and this was a stark reminder that that hadn’t changed.

I often post about:

My OCs; Operation Amarillo, Efica, and FLY HIGH

FX Fargo (2014—)

Classic cars

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

Doctor Who (2005—)

Sonic The Hedgehog

Half Life / HLVRAI

Warrior Cats

BBC Line of Duty (2012-2021)

Lie To Me (2009-2011)

Pikmin

Feel free to send me any asks/messages, or reblog my posts with comments. I love talking to the people in my computer.

DISCLAIMER: I reclaim and identify with the words faggot and queer. If this makes you uncomfortable, my blog is probably not for you!

You can follow me on my art blog @wenmistry for fanart and OCs.

FANFIC MASTERLIST

All of my Fargo fics in one place, with warnings and links to AO3. Characters listed on masterpost truncated for brevity. When this list gets ridiculously long, I'll make my masterlist a separate post.

Multi-Chapter:

One Hour Ahead of the Possee | 3/? | 9,375 words

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: Gen Characters: Rye Gerhardt, Mike Milligan, Floyd Gerhardt, Simone Gerhardt, Peggy Blumquist, Gale Kitchen.

Rye is injured and on the run. His conversation with Judge Mundt couldn't have gone any worse... and in his inebriated state, he decided to flee the scene on foot – leaving his car behind. It's not a question of *if* he's found out, but when.

Drop It, Doe Eyes | 3/? | 11,487 words

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Category: M/M Relationships: Rye Gerhardt/Original Male Character(s) Characters: Original Male Character(s), Rye Gerhardt

Jethro Sprang was always drawn to the Gerhardts, ever since he was saved from a bully by their youngest when he was ten. He didn't expect that, fourteen years later, he'd be saved by that boy yet again. This time, from the Gerhardts themselves, as he found himself in a dark alleyway, drenched in someone else's blood.

Lifespring | 1/? | 1,115 words

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: F/F Relationships: Peggy Blumquist/Constance Heck Characters: Peggy Blumquist, Constance Heck

Waiting in the ER after an accident on ice patch junction, Peggy strikes up conversation with a mysterious drifter, who seems to be dead set on changing her life... for better or for worse.

Oneshots:

Dead Boys | 3,167 words

Rating: Teen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Characters: Simone Gerhardt, Rye Gerhardt, Dodd Gerhardt, Floyd Gerhardt, Otto Gerhardt, Hanzee Dent

On the anniversary of Elron’s death, the Gerhardts hold a family dinner in his honour. It doesn’t quite go to plan, as conflicting opinions on war, the world, and who should be sat at that table, lead to a heated argument.

A Promise Made In Blood | 1,757 words

Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: Gen Characters: Original Male Character(s), Ollie Stein, Virgil Bauer

In the harsh Winter of 1973, an important deal goes horribly wrong. Someone has to pay the price, but Dodd's way of delivering it rubs Blake the wrong way. It's no real promise at all, if it's made in blood, but he knew the Gerhardts would disagree.

Managing Up | 1,324 words

Rating: Teen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Relationships: Bear Gerhardt/Ricky G Characters: Ricky G, Bear Gerhardt

Fending off Kansas City comes first, emotions come later – that's Bear's plan. But all Ricky wants is for Bear to talk to him.

Head In A Bag | 1,330 words

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: Gen Characters: Mike Milligan, Hanzee Dent, Gale Kitchen

Hanzee pays Mike a visit at the Pearl Hotel and delivers an ominous message.

and all the ships at sea... | 715 words

Rating: General Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: F/M Relationships: Betsy Solverson/Lou Solverson Characters: Lou Solverson, Betsy Solverson (Mentioned), Molly Solverson, Karl Weathers, Sonny Greer

After years of fighting, Betsy eventually succumbs to cancer. Now, Lou is left to pick up the pieces and figure out where to go next.

To Places Man Can Never Dream | 1,175 words

Rating: Teen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Characters: Hanzee Dent, Rye Gerhardt (Mentioned)

Hanzee parked his car at 7:07. He drove off at 9:10. He’d been there twenty minutes at most.

Staring at the Sun | 462 words

Rating: General Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Characters: Simone Gerhardt

Simone loses herself in the idea of a brighter future.

A Different Kind of Independence | 2,067 words

Rating: Teen Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: Gen Characters: Jethro Sprang (OC), Skip Sprang

The fireworks never felt justified.

#pinned post #fic masterlist #masterlist #fanfiction #fargo fanfic #fargo fx

4 notes · View notes

pocarinapyon · 3 years ago

Text

[Chili] A Good Experiment

Sweet and sensual: that was how Albedo made love to you. Lately, he wondered what if you were getting bored and wanted to spice up your sex life? Thus your ever-so-curious lover decided to conduct an experiment. He was to take down notes while watching you have intercourse with other men. He wanted to pick up techniques while learning more of your preferences. Pretend he wasn’t there. All consensual, of course. Regardless of his restricting pants, Albedo could – should – only keep his eyes on. Focus. After all, direct and clear observation are imperative to a good experiment.

Contents include [introduction], [session # n], and [after session].

Starring : Albedo, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya (Separate)

Warning : 🌶🌶 [Chilis] S*ggs; Voyeurism; Exhibitionism; Petnames (if it bothers you); Oral sex (Receivers: You, Kaeya); Fingering; Desire to impregnate; Creampie; Overstimulation; Kaeya urging you to masturbate; Masturbation; Dirty talk (?); Ass-smacking; Edging; Getting cockdrunk; Squirting; Anal; Childe being a menace (?); Kaeya and Childe being jerks; No s*ggs scene for Albedo; Diluc, Kaeya, and Childe being covetous; Surely Albedo is aware the three men wanted his woman but – idk; Moment of birth for Albedo’s yandere tendency; etc.

😅 Additionally, this was written with the lack of brain juice and just thirst so please bear with me.

Links : Masterlist

Target audience is female reader.

To whoever is reading, please enjoy.

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

“Before we begin, my love, please drink this,” Albedo said while handing you a test tube filled with pink liquid.

“What is this, love?” you curiously asked. “Is this different from the potion you asked me to drink after each – uhm – session?”

“Yes. This potion ensures us you won’t get pregnant,” was your lover’s forward response. You nodded and drank the potion in one go. “This is a safety measure. I know you love it when I ejaculate inside so I assumed you would also ask your partners to do the same.” You grimaced and slapped Albedo’s arm – because it was true: you loved hot cum spurting in your womb. Albedo chuckled, “I will be back to fetch your first partner. Please relax and wait for a while.” Albedo patted your head before going outside to discuss with the lab rats. Although, in a sense you were also considered a lab rat.

You sat on the bed and contemplated. How did Albedo manage to make you agree again? And how did he convince those three men to join? Imagine: a Fatui Harbinger, the Favonius Cavalry Captain, and Mondstadt’s wine tycoon. How will they handle your body? Will they be the same as Albedo: sweet and gentle? Or will they –

Your thoughts were interrupted when the door creaked open to reveal Albedo and Diluc. The dashing gentleman as your first partner. You felt your face heat up and glanced somewhere else. Really, what was on Albedo’s mind, thinking of such lewd experiments?

The two men entered and as soon as Diluc saw you, froze while taking in your beauty. Oh, he can’t wait to finally have a taste of you! A delicious snack all for him – even for a brief opportunity. Meanwhile, Albedo closed the door and guided Diluc towards the center of the room.

“How are you feeling, my love?” Albedo confirmed.

“Nervous,” you admitted skittishly while playing with the hem of your skirt. “Uhm… Master Diluc, please go easy on me.”

Diluc’s eyes widened. Were you a virgin? But Albedo implied it wasn’t the case. Thousand thoughts ran through his head before he finally grunted in response. What exactly did that grunt mean? Even Diluc did not know.

“It will be alright, my love. Take your time,” Albedo stepped closer and kissed the top of your head.

“Yes, love. It’s just… I don’t know what to expect…”

“If it makes you feel better, rest assured I won’t hurt you,” Diluc protested quickly. “I’ll do my best to please you…and give Albedo decent data.”

You smiled a thank you at Diluc before taking in a deep breath.

“Uhm… I think I’m ready, love,” you mustered the courage to say.

“We can always stop if you feel distressed in any way. After all, our main priority is your pleasure,” Albedo cupped your cheeks and gave your lips a peck. An assurance. “Remember: our safe word is?”

“Coffee Jelly,” both you and Diluc answered.

Albedo hummed in approval. You placed your hands on top of Albedo’s to signal you were ready, cuing him to sit back and watch the show. Albedo got comfortable on the chair, placed his clipboard on his lap, and gave the go-signal.

“Shall we start?”

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

Session #1 : Diluc Ragnvindr

“M – Master Diluc…!” you cried, voice breathy from pleasure. It was embarrassing to erotically call another man’s name but Albedo insisted it was alright.

You were sprawled on the bed, thighs clipped on Diluc’s shoulders as he assaulted your wet pussy with his tongue. He ran his soft muscle in your slit before circling your clitoris and suckling the sensitive bundle of nerves. You moaned, back arching from jolts of pleasure.

“Does it feel good?” Diluc asked in between greedy slurps from your honey pot. Crimson eyes peered at yours while plump lips puckered your pulsing clit.

“Y – yes – ahn…! M – Master Diluc, please, inside…! I want you inside, please!”

Diluc had been engaging you in foreplay and making sure you were prepared for him. He was afraid to hurt you but you couldn’t take it anymore. You already came once from having your clit played and now dying to have his cock inside. Your gummy walls sadly clenched at nothing. Instead of using his cock, Diluc plunged two digits inside your hole. You groaned, happy yet discontented to feel your hole stretch.

Diluc buried his fingers oh-so-deep, hitting your puffy clit with his palm. You bit your lip and suppressed your moan but Diluc did not like it. He finger-fucked you in a fast pace, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot. You couldn’t help but whimper. Fluids sloshed out of you, making a wet mess on his hands and on your thighs. He slid another digit and continued his relentless speed, pounding you fast and hard. Clapping flesh, wet sloshes, and erotic cries echoed in the room. Your pussy was on fire. The more Diluc met his palm on your clit; the more he dipped his fingers in and out, the closer your next climax.

“Master Diluc! I – I’m cumming!” you screamed, hips elevated to get more of Diluc’s divine fingers.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he demanded, intently gazing at you and etching your gorgeous messy image in his memory.

One scissor motion of his digits made you release, screaming from the glorious climax. You slumped on the bed and panted heavily as Diluc slowed his pace to a complete stop. He removed his digits inside you to let you come down from your high.

Diluc’s hungry crimson eyes watched your vulnerable form. You looked so delicious: chest rising up and down; thighs shivering; pussy dripping. But your hazy gaze wandered somewhere else – roaming around to search for your boyfriend. Diluc clicked his tongue. He gently caressed your cheeks then steered your face towards his.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

The sight of your glossy eyes and trembling lips pleading for cock could make Diluc cum. But why would he when Albedo said you loved feeling warm cum spurting inside you? Thus he made it his mission to fill you up with his seeds.

And possibly impregnate you so you can be his.

Diluc flushed your knees on your shoulders, giving him a prettier view and an easier access to your pink pussy. He kissed his cock on your hole before finally penetrating you, making you hiss at the delicious stretch. Diluc was well-endowed. He plunged deeper until the tip of his cock punched the entrance of your cervix, forming a bulge in your stomach.

Grunt. The tightness of your cute cunt almost made Diluc cum. It took all of his will-power to control himself and cute little you did not make it easier for him.

“Master Diluc, please spill all your seeds deep inside me,” you whispered on Diluc’s ears.

Diluc smirked. You asked nicely thus he shall give generously. He started to pound you in slow and shallow thrusts, pleasantly stretching your pussy as he molded your gummy walls to accommodate him.

Diluc watched your jiggling tits, savoured your tight cunt, and hearkened your angelic pleading voice. Soon he got lost in pleasure. He hastened his pace and began to fuck your pussy senseless. Creamy white ring formed around his shaft as he ripped your small hole apart; balls slapping on the flesh of your ass. It was too much. This position made Diluc reach your deepest parts and you could only scream-chant his name like a mantra. Your pussy burned at the continuous friction from Diluc’s long thick cock – your mind long turned mush. Orgasm was coming.

“Master Diluc! S – so good…!”

“You’re cumming, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, please, may I cum? Please, Master Diluc!”

“Hah…! No one’s stopping you from cumming, [your name]. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Obeying his command, your pussy choked Diluc’s cock as you came. Yet Diluc kept pounding your snug cunt – this time not letting you take a break.

“W – Wait! Master Diluc, please! I’m still sensitive!”

“Just a little more, sweetheart,” Diluc pleaded, chasing his climax. “I’m gonna breed you. Gonna fill you up with my cum. You want that, don’t you?”

You could only babble nonsense. Coherent thoughts poofed away as Diluc kept abusing your oversensitive pussy. His thrusts were getting sloppy; his climax was close. Diluc latched his lips onto yours and snapped his cock deep inside you before spilling generous seeds filling you to the brim. In turn, you came once again at the feeling of hot sperm flowing in your womb. You both indulged in the wet kiss while recovering from your highs, eating each other’s exhales. Instead of pulling out, Diluc kept himself plugged inside your hole.

“Be a good girl and keep it all inside, sweetheart.”

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

Session #2 : Kaeya Alberich

“Don’t be shy, angel,” Kaeya cooed as he held your hair away to view your lovely face. “I’m sure Albedo would love to get this data, no?”

You glared up at Kaeya. Albedo clearly instructed to pretend he wasn’t there and Kaeya mentioning your boyfriend made you feel conscious. In fact, you were still discombobulated by Albedo’s peculiar experiment. Still, Albedo insisted you to explore your preferences.

Kaeya leaned his back on the bed board, thighs splayed so you could glorify his erected cock. You, on the other hand, were on all fours. Your ass was hanging high and your wet pussy was displayed prettily.

You tried your best to take the Cavalry Captain deep in your throat but it was your first time giving someone head. Albedo never made you do such things and you weren’t “wild” enough to suggest it. Now as much as you wanted to try giving Kaeya a blowjob, you could only take a few inches of his length.

“Inexperienced, are we?” he asked and you could only hum in response. “Oh, well. Take it easy, angel.”

Kaeya chuckled as he watched your cheeks puff from being stuffed with cock. He didn’t mind if your blowjob was toothy. It simply proved your mouth was virgin. Oh, he delighted in your untainted pussy-mouth! It made want to ravish it more.

“Why don’t you touch yourself, angel?” Kaeya suggested with a sly smile. With a pop, you removed his cock in your mouth.

“As in…?” you bashfully asked. Of course you knew he was saying you should masturbate but it was too embarrassing.

“Touch yourself. Rub your clit. Dig your fingers inside you. I know you’re already wet in anticipation, angel. I bet you want this cock to massacre your cute little cunt. Don’t worry. I’ll play with your pussy. For now, I want to make your mouth feel good.” Kaeya’s voice was low and smooth, effortlessly enchanting you to trail your hand on your stomach down to your glistening cunt. “That’s right, angel… If you cum using your fingers, I’ll be sure to reward you later.”

As you dipped two fingers inside your hole, you simultaneously wrapped your mouth around Kaeya’s head. Deeper. You pushed your digits deeper and plunged your head lower. Kaeya guided you to take him more. The tip of his head touched the back of your throat and you almost gagged. Kaeya groaned in feeling the vibrations of your mouth, chuckling at your cuteness.

Deeper. Slowly but surely, Kaeya helped you get comfortable in his size. You soon found yourself bobbing on your own, taking his length halfway. Your small wet mouth served his veiny cock as you buried your fingers and played with your own clit. You never thought cock would taste delicious.

“That’s it. Good girl, [your name],” Kaeya cooed.

“Mmph…! Khaeyah…,” you moaned in between slurps of Kaeya’s pre-cum. “Your cock tastes so good. Mmph…!”

“Do you want more, angel?”

No words. Your glossy eyes pleaded while your mouth continued to service Kaeya’s glorious dick. He smirked, suddenly pushing your head lower so he is bottomed out. Your groans and cries only made it better for Kaeya as you struggled at the sudden stretch of your throat. He grunted.

“Fuck! Your mouth is just like a pussy, isn’t it, angel? I’m going to make you drink my cum. Don’t waste any drop, yeah?”

Kaeya took control and fucked your mouth like pussy. Each time he lowered your head, he snapped his hips up. You would be lying if you said you did not like the way Kaeya manhandled you. You loved it – the honey dripping from your cunt as evidence. The burning of your throat made your pussy feel cold and empty. Your gummy walls sought to squeeze something bigger and your fingers weren’t satisfying enough.

“Shit…! I’m cumming, angel! Drink it all!”

You and Kaeya came at the same time, moaning blissfully at the release. Your love juice gushed out and trailed down to your knees on the bed. Meanwhile, Kaeya spurted thick cum in your mouth, making your eyes roll back. Once Kaeya was done spilling his seeds, he pulled your head to give you a breather.

“Hah… Were you a good girl, angel? Open up and let me see that pretty mouth of yours.”

You swallowed before showing your small cavern to Kaeya and rolling your tongue out. Of course you were an obedient girl, careful not to spill the tasty cum.

“Heh. Good girl. You deserve a reward, no?” he cooed. “Now face the other way so I can fuck your tight little pussy.”

In a daze, you did as told and turned around so Kaeya can see your plump ass and aching cunt. You slumped your upper body on the bed, leaving your hind hoisted in the air for Kaeya to admire.

Slap! You winced as Kaeya smacked your gelatinous flesh. Slap! Slap! He enjoyed it: hearing you whimpers while watching your big fat butt jiggle with every strike. How bouncy would your ass be as he fucks you from behind? The thought got him hard once more as he would soon find out the answer.

He soothingly caressed your swollen cheeks before wordlessly slamming his full length inside your pussy, bottoming out and flushing his hips on your behind. His balls slapped your puffy clit. Snug velvet walls squeezed his cock as his tip kissed the entrance of your cervix. The vibration from the impact made your hind shake and Kaeya groaned at its sight.

“Damn – this is better than I expected… Angel, your pussy is begging for me, isn’t it? You’re clenching me so hard.”

“Kaeya…!” you cried at the sudden intrusion, glancing behind to see a devilish smirk on Kaeya’s face making your pussy flutter.

“You’re such a slut, aren’t you? I bet you always squeeze Albedo’s cock with your tight cunt. Hell, I bet you were the one who came up with this experiment.”

You wanted to protest but Kaeya tightly gripped your hips and began to massacre your cute little cunt, rocking his hips back and forth at an animalistic pace. Erotic whimpers instead escaped your lips at the intensity of Kaeya’s cock stretching your pussy. You buried your face on the pillow to silence your cries.

“Let me hear your voice, angel,” Kaeya demanded as he grabbed your hair and pulled your head up.

The pain of having your head forcefully pulled back was nothing compared to feeling your abused cunt pleasured – your sloshing pussy in lust served as evidence. Your focus was solely on the fast approaching climax and your pussy squeezed oh-so-tight around Kaeya. He knew you were close.

“Hah… Can Albedo fuck you as good as this, huh, angel?”

You ignored the inquiry and gave no coherent answers – only loud moans and wails of pleasure. Your love juices were almost ready to gush out.

And that was when he stopped – erection still inside of you.

“Hah…! Ah…? K – Kaeya…? Why?” you groggily asked, tearing from the sudden loss of pleasure. You wriggled your hips but Kaeya slapped your hind, making you wince.

“Ah, ah… Why did I stop? It’s because someone has been bad. Do you think you still deserve my cock, angel?” Kaeya queried.

“Yes. Yes, please! I’ve been bad? But I’ve always been good, haven’t I?” you pleaded, trying your best not to move. “I want your cock…! Please, Kaeya…! I want to be good!”

“If you want to be good then answer me, angel,” Kaeya stated before languidly thrusting in and out of you again. “Who’s making your pussy feel good right now, angel?”

“Y – You are…! Archons, Kaeya, your cock feels so good! Please fuck me harder!”

“Ahaha… More, angel?”

“Yes, please…! Oh – archons!” you squealed as Kaeya immediately hastened his speed, snapping his hips to and fro in a fast pace.

“Who’s my cockslut, [your name]?”

“I am! I am Kaeya’s cockslut! Kaeya, I’m cumming, please! Please! Please! I want to cum!” you panted like a dog in heat – tongue lolled out as drool streamed from the corned of your lips.

“Good girl,” Kaeya cooed. “Now… Can Albedo fuck you as good as this, huh, angel?”

“N – nngh…! Kaeya…!”

“Well, angel?” Kaeya threatened. You felt his hips losing its speed.

“N – no! No! Archons, Kaeya, your cock is the best! Ah! Kaeya is fucking my pussy so good! Please, Kaeya, please! Don’t stop!”

“Haha…! Let’s try again, angel.”

Kaeya laughed at your cock-drunk response. All for the sake of cumming. With both hands, he gripped you hips tightly and your upper body slumped back on the bed. While poisoning your brain to think of him and his cock alone, he abused your clenching cunt; his balls continuously spanked your puffy clit. Then he stopped again. Whenever he felt your climax nearing, he would stop himself and you would plea. The vicious cycle repeated itself leaving you more desperate to cum – so on edge with pretty tears streaming down your cheeks in frustration.

“Kaeya, why? Please make me cum…! I’ve been good, right? Please…!”

“I know, angel. Since you asked nicely,” he groaned shakily.

This time, Kaeya did not stop and rolled his hips eagerly. His climax was approaching too and your pussy was more than eager to squeeze him dry. With few rough thrusts, both you and Kaeya came, making you squeal at finally being given the freedom of release. Both of you were spurting yet Kaeya kept moving his hips, paying no mind to being overstimulated. You did not mind, so long as you could cum and cum and cum.

“Damn, angel. Your pussy is just too good. Cum for me more.”

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

Session #3 : “Childe”

“Childe, sir…,” you groaned. “Ah… This is – this is embarrassing…”

“What? It’s not like your boyfriend haven’t seen your naked body before,” the harbinger guffawed while scissoring two fingers inside your pussy. “I’m doing him a favor, see? This position gives him a niiiice view, don’t you think?”

Both you and Childe were facing Albedo’s way. The harbinger had your back leaning on his toned chest as you sat in front of him. Your knees were clipped and your thighs were spread apart. Yes, Albedo surely had a perfect view of your exposed body; a perfect view to see how Childe fondles your soft breasts and plays your pretty little pussy. Seeing the darkness in Albedo’s eyes intently watching as Childe had his way disturbed you. Yet Albedo insisted you to not worry and to just get wild and focus on your pleasure.

“Aw, you’re creaming so much just from my fingers! How cute,” Childe chortled, digging his fingers deeper to stretch your hole and brushing his thumb on your clit from time to time. He whispered in your ears, “Or maybe…you like seeing Albedo leering at your stuffed pussy?” Albedo did not know what the harbinger told you but judging from the way you gasped, it must be something flustering. “Anyway, let’s give Mister Albedo a show, shall we?”

Childe circled his thumb on your clit before pressing them firmly. He then hooked his digits inside your hole. With the way your body jerked, he was sure he found your g-spot.

“Mister Albedo said you should focus on your pleasure. Then let’s see if I can make you cum, yeah? Let’s not disappoint Mister Albedo now, yeah?”

Childe began to massage your clit and g-spot roughly, stimulating both that sent great jolts of pleasure. Your eyes rolled back, screaming from the intensity – the double assault was just two much! The room echoed with Childe’s manic laughter, your love juice’s sloshing sounds, and your erotic cries of pleasure. You struggled to free yourself from the overwhelming pleasure. You wanted to make it stop; to close your legs – but Childe used his other hand to ensure Albedo would see his work.

Your glorious release was so close; you can feel it. But somehow, it was different. It was comparable to cumming but dissimilar.

“You’re tightening around my fingers! Does that mean you’re close?” Childe asked while speeding the process of your release. “Come on, girlie! Cum for daddy!”

Childe’s relentless assault and coaxing words cajoled you to release. Your body shook as fluids gushed out of you like fountain. But you knew it wasn’t cum – it was as if you had squirted your love juice. Seeing how hard you heaved, Childe removed his hand from your womanhood to give you a breather.

“Wow! That’s a lot of cum,” Childe laughed as he watched the wet stains on the bed. You couldn’t respond – your limp body simply leaning on Childe’s lively one. He brought his stained fingers to his mouth and gave it a lick. “Mmh ~ You taste delicious, girlie. Hey, Mister Albedo, invite me over next time you have sex, yeah?”

“Hah… Childe…,” you addressed weakly. Albedo clearly stated to pretend he wasn’t there yet here Childe was, calling out to your boyfriend.

“Hey, girlie. Let’s make you cum again and give Mister Albedo a good show.”

“Wha…?” you stuttered. Childe wasn’t done? “Wait – ! You’re done, aren’t you…? Please, no more…!” you pleaded feebly, eyes heavy from exhaustion. But your cries fell on deaf ears.

“No way! I was just preparing you for the best part. So just relax, yeah?” Childe chortled. He then lifted your light body and shoved the tip of his cock inside your ass. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“W – wrong hole, Childe! Wrong – ahn!” your words were cut short by Childe pushing himself deeper inside you. “Stop, please…!”

“Fuck, girlie! Can’t believe your boyfriend haven’t tried fucking you like this before!” Childe sang as his cock squeezed itself inside your ass hole. “Ah ~ so tight! And it’s all for me!”

Pretty tears ran down your cheeks as Childe bottomed out. It was your first time having something so big stretch your ass hole. It was mind-numbing – quite painful even; yet your pussy got wetter and wetter.

“Aw… Does it hurt? I’ll make it feel good for you,” Childe cooed as he planted a peck on your cheek.

He wiped your tear away with his thumb, whispering praises and affirmations in your ear. He then trailed sweet caresses to your neck down to your chest then finally to your stomach. Surprisingly, the harbinger’s touch was gentle enough to soothe you somehow. You purred, nuzzling your head on the comfort of his shoulders.

“You look so pretty, I could just eat you up,” Childe lowly chuckled, taking his time to spread your love juice before burying two fingers inside your fluttering womanhood. You bit your lips, holding back the moan threatening to escape. “Let me hear your cute voice, girlie. Does it feel good?”

“Y – yes, it feels good,” you breathed as Childe curled his fingers to immediately focus on your spongy spot; his thumb on your clit.

“Let’s make it better.”

Childe wasted no time and began to arouse your sensitive areas, making you toss your head back and squeal out loud. Lewd squelching came from your dirty pussy as the harbinger went ruthless on your womanhood. With Childe’s long and thick cock occupying your behind, your velvet gummy walls felt tighter and Childe could easily press your spongy spot harder.

You couldn’t help but move your hips at the rhythm of Childe’s pulsing fingers. And the more you move, the more you were reminded of the peculiarly delicious stretch of your ass. He had so much control over your body. Too much pleasure. Your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled out as you screamed louder incoherent cries of pleasure.

“Archons – ! Ah! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

You didn’t even have to tell Childe. He knew it from the way you were sucking him inside your holes; from the way you were blabbering non-sense; from the way you were eagerly grinding yourself. In a swift motion, Childe moved his hands away from you, giving Albedo a clear view of how fluids once again gushed out of your pretty little pussy. Childe mused at the new mess your lewd cunt made, clearly amazed and proud of his work.

“What did I tell you? Felt better, yeah?” Childe chortled but you were exhausted to speak. He just chuckled at your weary state.

Childe pecked your cheeks and cooed how you were such a good girl. His hands once again trailed all over your body, giving you feather-light tingly touches. Letting your guard down, you closed your eyes and indulged in the gentle caresses and sweet whispers. You didn’t even realize his hands positioned itself to once again assault your cute little pussy.

“One last time, girlie. Just to make sure Mister Albedo jotted down his notes. ’Sides, I wanted to cum inside you too! I’m gonna paint your ass with my cum and claim it as mine!”

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

“My love…,” you spoke weakly, lying limp on your side. “Did you get your data?”

“Mmh. Yes, thank you, my love,” Albedo hummed in satisfaction to which you sighed in relief. “Although I may wish to collect more data in the future.”

You smiled at the thought of Albedo’s fruitful experiment. Contentedly, you closed your eyes as Albedo cleaned you up with warm towel and massaged your sore spots. You were seconds away from drifting to dreamland when Albedo called your name and planted a kiss on your forehead. Drowsily opening your eyes, you saw your lover handing you the potion you were supposed to drink after each session.

“Please drink this, my love.”

Oh, was there another person aside from Childe, Diluc, and Kaeya?

Albedo helped pull you up as you struggled to sit on the bed. You did as told and sleepily drank the potion to rejuvenate your energy. What woke you up was not the effects of the potion but instead Albedo’s uncharacteristically vulgar words.

“Slut. It seems you need to be reminded whose cockwhore you are. Not Childe’s. Not Diluc’s. And definitely not Kaeya’s. Mine. Fucking mine. A discipline is in order, I believe. Now let’s fill you up with MY cum, my cute little cumdump.”

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

Thank you all for the 200+ follows. Any suggestions on how to commemorate this…event? 🐱

Anyway… Who should Teacher Albedo contact for the next experiment? 🤔

To whoever read this, thank you for your time. Here, have some carrot. 🥕

Stay hydrated, people!

Links : Masterlist

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin smut #genshin albedo #genshin childe #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #childe smut #diluc smut #kaeya smut #kaeya alberich #kaeya x you #childe x you #diluc x you #albedo x you

506 notes · View notes

sirowsky · 3 years ago

Text

A Little Menace

I recently had some trouble with the neighbors, and of course, my good friend @deadhumourist managed to turn it into an idea for a story. So, here's a lil thing based on her idea.

Rating: Mature Warnings: Includes ornithophobia (fear of birds), cursing, improper thoughts, modern!din, din djarin x female reader, Grogu is a human boy here. Word Count: 2080 Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 2 Link to Part 3 Link to Part 4 Link to Part 5

–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–

He’s just a kid, he doesn’t know any better… That’s what you keep telling yourself as you throw some clothes on to run outside and stop your next-door neighbour’s kid from breaking your birdfeeder.

The thing is, this isn’t the first time he’s been messing with it, nor will it be the first time you talk to him about it, and he’s always apologetic once you catch him, which makes you think that this is about getting attention.

But you’re not his parent. It’s not your job to teach this kid how the world works and it’s not fair to him that he should have to endure getting repeatedly told off by a stranger, when you suspect that it's his dad’s attention he really wants.

“You know your dad will have to pay for that if you break it, and it wasn’t cheap.”

He flinches at the sound of your voice, spinning on his heels to look at you, and taking a few steps back, but he doesn’t run away. Your apartment is on the ground floor, and your balcony door is just a few feet from the feeder, so by the time he’s registered the sound of it opening, you’re already close enough to grab him, should you need to.

The thing is about the size of a large suitcase, cylindrical in shape and housing over fifty feeding-stations that varies in the types of seeds or other kinds of feeds that it can hold. Large nets for peanuts and Plexiglas containers for small grains, for example. It’s mounted on a big metal pole that’s been driven six feet into the ground to anchor the whole thing, and at the base of it, a separate type of feeder accommodates the magpies and other larger birds, to keep them away from the little guys.

“I’m trying to help the birds survive winter, why are you trying to hurt them?”

It’s a pretty solid construction, so in truth, the kid would have to work really hard to actually break it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still damage it. Plus, it scares the birds when he throws sticks or sometimes even rocks on it. Today though, he’d tried to sneak up on some blackbirds sitting on the ground and feasting on dried mealworms, doing his best to kick them as they scrambled to get away. Thankfully, he’d missed them all, but it had seriously pissed you off.

As always, he doesn’t answer you, but he does meet your eyes and you can see that he’s close to tears. Real ones. His body-language shows you shame and regret as clear as day, and you just can’t figure out what he’s trying to accomplish with all this. You sigh and cross your arms over your waist. He’s not your kid to teach, but this has to stop, and if his dad isn’t gonna take care of it, then you’re just gonna have to.

“I told you last time that if this ever happened again, I’d be marching you home and having a serious conversation with your father, and I keep my word, kid. So, you can either come with me calmly, or I can drag you there, what’s it gonna be?”

He looks worried, but after a moment’s deliberation, he slowly comes to your side and walks with you through first your balcony and then your apartment, out your front door where you immediately ring the bell of the apartment directly to your left.

Despite living next to them for over two years now, you’ve never seen his father. You’ve heard him bustle about in the kitchen, and their bathroom is wall to wall with yours, so you hear it every time the bathtub is filled or drained. But you don’t actively listen to your neighbours, you just register the sounds that are loud enough to cut through your music or sounds of the tv. Since you’re not the nosy type, you haven’t been running to look through the peephole whenever you’ve heard the door open, but he comes and goes like any regular person so if you had, you would’ve seen him.

The door opens, and you automatically begin to explain why you’re standing there with his son, in the hopes that he won’t get angry with you.

“Hi, Mr. Djarin, I’m sorry but your son-…” you trail off when your gaze connects with a pair of deep brown and slightly sad-looking eyes that are studying you closely, in between glances at the boy.

“What did he do?” he asks, his voice soft and low, and somehow making you feel like you wanna purr.

“Uh…” you’ve almost forgotten your reason for bothering him. “He was being mean to the birds in my yard. I would’ve let it go if it was the first time, but he’s thrown things on my feeding station and nearly damaged it a few times too.”

He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose, before sinking to one knee and beckoning the kid closer.

“Grogu, I’ve told you so many times now… the birds aren’t dangerous. If you leave them alone, they’ll just eat and leave.” he tries to remind his son, and you idly wonder if you’ve ever heard a name like that before. But the kid doesn’t answer, so Mr. Djarin looks back up at you.

“He’s afraid of birds. The smaller ones are more skittish, so he can ignore them because he knows that they mostly keep their distance. But the crows and magpies and the bigger ones are bolder, and they frighten him.” he explains calmly, with a very apologetic undertone.

You’re struggling to pay attention, though, because he’s kneeling just two feet in front of you, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes and you can’t help but wonder what he’d look like buried between your legs. If you’d known that he was this fucking beautiful you would’ve been glued to that peephole every time you heard him at the door.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” you try to sound diplomatic, but you’re not sure what to do about the situation.

One the one hand, it makes sense that he would be so aggressive towards the larger birds if he was hoping to scare them away for good, and that he’d be inclined to destroy the feeder to try and keep them from coming back. But on the other hand, his actions are still not acceptable and no matter what he feels, he isn’t entitled to destroy people’s property.

“I’ll pay for any damage he’s caused, of course.” he offers, and a streak of compassion stings your chest.

He’s a single father, doing his best, clearly exhausted and unsure of how to ‘dad’ correctly sometimes, and you simply can’t be upset with either of them anymore.

“Well, actually the feeder is homemade, so it would be hard to put a value on it. But he hasn’t broken anything yet, and I think I might have an idea on how to keep it that way.”

The idea came to you as you were speaking, so you take a beat to try and piece it together in your own head, before you try to explain it.

“What if Grogu spends some time with me and the birds every day from now on?” you offer, kneeling on the kid’s other side so you can talk directly to him. “We can start by just watching them from the balcony with the windows closed, and I can tell you all about them so that maybe you can understand them a little better.”

He’s just staring at the floor, refusing to look at either of you, but you genuinely want to help him, now that you know what this is about, so you try again.

“Sometimes things are less scary when you understand them better. Like, how big dogs can seem scary but when you know how to make them happy, they’ll get all goofy and cuddly. Or like how spiders can feel really creepy when they’re crawling on your skin, but when they’re just sitting in their web in a corner somewhere, they’re actually saving you from flies and mosquitos and other bugs.”

That earns you a curious look as he lifts his head to meet your eyes, so you try your luck with one more attempt to win him over.

“If you promise to work with me on this, I promise that you can help me build that huge LEGO Millennium Falcon, I saw you eyeing in my living room. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.” you say, and he perks right up, shooting you a bright smile and nodding enthusiastically, so you turn back to his father.

“If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” he grins at you, and something warm and pleasant pools in your stomach at the brightness of his eyes.

“Great! I work from home, so just bring him over whenever it suits you.” you say, while pushing yourself up to standing again, and he mirrors the motion.

“This is really so kind of you, thank you.” he offers, and you just shrug.

“I’d rather help than hurt him. He seems like a good kid.”

Grogu tugs on his father’s pantleg then, and points into the hallway of their apartment. His dad just nods, and the kid runs inside, disappearing around a corner.

“Does he not speak?” you ask.

“Not much around strangers, and a lot less than other kids overall. But he seems to know the language pretty much fluently and I’ve taken him to doctors and specialists and no one can find anything wrong with him. It’s like he’s just more comfortable not speaking, for some reason.” he explains, and you find yourself listening closely and studying every feature of his voice and how his expressions shift only in the most subtle ways.

“Well, I’m looking forward to getting to know him… both of you, better.” you say, before you start backing towards your own door.

A small smile creeps into his eyes at that. Something tender and almost bashful, and you suddenly want nothing more than to rest your palm against his cheek, to see if he’d lean into your touch. You braid your fingers together behind your own back to keep them in check. The last thing you wanna do is scare this gorgeous man away.

“Um, I’m a carpenter and I work daytime, so I’ll bring him over tomorrow after dinner, if that’s okay?” he says, and his voice is low and unsure. You wonder if he’s unaccustomed to attention, or just finds it generally difficult to know how to respond to it.

“That’s fine.” you say, as you reach your door and stop, still facing him. “And, just so you know, I’m happy to help if there’s anything else you need. Like I said, I work from home so I’m always around.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” his smile widens a little, before he turns to head back inside, but then stops on the threshold. “My name is Din.”

You smile back and give him your name in return, and he nods and repeats it, memorizing it, making your skin prickle at the sound of it on his tongue, as you’re suddenly picturing him saying it under very different circumstances. That thought alone makes you feel hot and uncomfortable, and you quickly dip your head forwards to keep him from noticing, before turning around to head back into your home.

“See you tomorrow then, Din.” you croak with your back to him, your voice now hoarse with embarrassment.

“I look forward to it.” he says, just before closing his own door behind him, and you stop dead on your threshold, turning back to stare at his door because his tone caught you completely off guard.

He’d sounded… alluring. And now you’re wondering if perhaps he finds you just as attractive as you find him. If perhaps the prospect of his son not becoming a menace wasn’t the only reason that he looked forward to seeing you again. You step back and close your door, turning to lean against the nearest wall while you try to stop your heart from bouncing around between your lungs. How have you never known that such a gem of a guy has been living next door all this time?

And suddenly you find yourself feeling quite happy that the kid messed with your birdfeeder.

–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–

Thank you for reading, and feel free to criticize, I'm always looking to learn and grow as a writer.

@deadhumourist @idreamofboobear @tanzthompson @winter-fox-queen @tiffanyleen @shsoba05 @toomanystoriessolittletime @nolanell @myfavpedrothings @harriedandharassed @bruxasolta @tintinn16 @pedrostories

#the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian oneshot #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #mando x fem!reader #modern!din #the mandalorian modern au #modern au #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

228 notes · View notes

generalfoolish · 3 years ago

Text

Part Two: Tequila Truth or Dare

Part Two Summary: In which Vigilante seeks you out again

Pairing: Vigilante (Adrian Chase) x F!Reader

Warnings: *All of my works are M for mature so 18+ please; language, language, language, canon typical violence, sexual themes (changed my mind), drinking, moral contemplation,

Word Count: 3.9K

A/N: The way this man has me in a *chokehold* I feel like I've read every single thing about Adrian Chase on Tumblr/AO3 so if anyone has anything they'd like to share with the class, gimme. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy! If you want to join the tag list there's a link below, or feel free to message/comment <3

Masterlist | Taglist | Part One | Part Three

You inhaled deeply and breathed out slowly through your mouth. Engulfed in the deep woods, the fresh, earthy smell overtook you. It was a balm to your soul, and the main reason you had taken this job in the first place. Not many people would purposely separate themselves from the outside world to stay in a secluded cabin, immersed completely in the wilderness for months on end. But then, you weren't most people, and the seclusion had helped you separate and manage difficult emotions from, what you had deemed, your real life.

That is, until Vigilante had shown up. It had been a little under a week since you had spent time stitching him back together, but it was all you could think about. He engulfed you with more vigor than even the woods. Standing miles deep in the forest, with only the rustling of wind through leaves and the occasional call of a hawk, you were transfixed on him. Surrounded by beauty, immersed completely in nature, and your thoughts raced back to his offer: "I'll tell you everything." It was an intoxicating offer, one you'd been drunk on for days. You found yourself wanting to know everything about him. You daydreamed in black and teal. When you saw something remarkable, some breathtaking view, you imagined it covered in a red filter.

You shook your head to try and focus. You had actual work you had to do today, and losing your mind, over someone you'd never see again, for the fourth day in a row just wouldn't do. You grasped the straps of your pack, and walked forward with purpose.

You made it a few hundred yards before you realized you were being followed. Or, at least, watched. You tried to shake the feeling of dread that washed over you, and attempted to remind yourself that you were constantly watched by curious creatures. But that only served to quicken your heartbeat more, you were watched all day by wildlife, and this felt nothing like that.

Fumbling, only slightly, from nerves, you reached for your pistol. It was a standard issue; it was for protection. Once it was in your hand, you felt better. Another layer of protection against whatever was trailing you.

Your mind raced, trying to figure out what could be following you so closely. Your laugh startled you as it bubbled up. The only predator in your woods were the wolves, one of them must have clocked you. Your primitive instincts must have clocked them, and sent you panic spiraling.

You laughed for another second, feeling ridiculous, until a hand fell on your shoulder. You screamed, and raised your gun to fire. You pulled the trigger, and dread overtook you as you realized you had left the safety on. The muted click alerted the attacker to that same information, and they swatted the gun down.

"What the fuck?" Vigilante asked, clearly annoyed. "You scream so loud." You groaned and slumped down, your legs literally giving out. The damp forest floor was welcoming to your pounding head and thundering heart. You thought you might be having a heart attack.

"You scared me, asshole. Ever heard of speaking up?" You grumbled, playing with a leaf.

"Ever heard of the element of surprise?” He asked, incredulous. He tilted his head, pausing, before continuing. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He held his hand out to you, helping you off the ground. You took it quickly, the worn leather warmer than you expected in your hand.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, brushing the leaf litter from your pants. Vigilante stayed quiet, despite your direct question.

“Okay, then. How’s your gut?” You tried again, placing your hands across your chest. You could see him visibly tense, and he fidgeted with his gloves.

“How do you know Gut? That’s so weird. I don’t even know why we’re talking about this, that’s such a weird name for someone to have. I don’t know anyone with that name. Like at all. You said you did? Weird.” He rambled, his words a panicked mess.

“What? I don’t know anyone named Gut. I meant your wound, Vij. How’s your stab wound?”

“Oh, that. Totally fine, like I said. No problem at all.” You eyed him suspiciously. He was a surprisingly bad liar for someone who spent half his time in a mask.

“Vij, do you know someone named Gut?” You asked, watching him bounce from foot to foot.

“No.” He told you quickly, too quickly.

“More super secret identity stuff?” You teased, nudging his shoulder and turning to walk away from the clearing you found yourself in.

“I can’t tell you that.” He said, emphatically.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I’m just interested in you.” You told him, raising your hands in defense, stepping over a fallen tree as you led him deeper into the forest. You noticed him falter behind, losing step with you. You glanced back and saw he was tense again.

“Really?” His voice was small, almost needy, and it made you be more earnest with him.

“Of course. I want to know everything.” You shrugged, realizing it was easy to be honest with him.

“Oh. Well, maybe I can be vague?” He asked, closing the gap between you.

“Are you Vigilante all the time?” You wondered, thinking back to all of the thinkpieces you had read about Evergreen’s resident “antihero.” You were thinking about his morals and convictions, but were interested in whatever he wanted to say about it.

But there was a long silence, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. You wondered if you’d pushed too far too quickly.

“You don’t have to–” You started to retract as he answered at the same time.

“Yes.” It was resounding with finality. A fact, you, surprisingly, were okay with.

“Oh.” Was all you said, absorbing the answer.

“Yeah.” The awkward silence that filled the space between you was uncomfortable, so you tried again.

“Do you have another job?” It seemed safe enough, something that could be vague.

“Uh…I’m not sure that I should say.” He answered, rubbing the back of his neck. You wondered, not for the first time, how he wore his hair.

“Police?” You ask, laughing lightly at your joke. It would be pretty funny, actually.

“Shut up. No.” Vij grumbled beside you, helping you over a fallen log. “That’s so fucking dumb. Hashtag ACAB.” You laughed again, having pulled the perfect reaction from him.

“Dude, I won’t know. I rarely go to the city. I’d never even see you, but if I did, I’ve never seen your face, so how would I know?” You argued, focusing on the issue at hand.

“I work in a restaurant.” His answer surprised you, but then you realized it was kind of perfect. When you had worked as a waitress, you’d kept late hours. It would be easy to slip out after your co-workers to go fight crime. You wondered if he had ever killed his co-workers for smoking weed at the job, but kept the question to yourself.

“Nice. Solid work, sucks though.” You said finally, settling on a neutral answer.

“Yeah, it’s the worst.” He told you, laughing loudly. You smiled at it, the sound intoxicating.

“Do you have any hobbies?” You asked, trying to stay superficial.

“Not really, no time.” He explained, plainly. You supposed crime fighting was a pretty big hobby.

“Friends?”

“Oh yeah, well you know Peacemaker is my BFF, and then there’s Eagly, he’s a close second. You’re making a run for my new third best friend, if I’m honest.” You smiled dumbly. It was the last thing you had expected to leave his mouth.

“Eagly?” You asked, glossing over his confession.

“Dude, fuck yeah, he’s hardcore. Saw him eat someone’s eyeball once.” You balked, the mental image you had of Eagly just did not compute with what Vij was saying.

“Jesus. Is he like, half man and half eagle?” You asked, brow scrunched in disgust.

“Ha! No. He’s an actual eagle.” An actual eagle, named Eagly? You rolled your eyes.

“Really? Dude, it’s illegal to have an eagle.” You told him, expecting a big reaction to the news.

“What?” His whole stature dropped in on itself.

“It’s a whole thing, yeah.” You told him, apologetically, placing a hand on his shoulder. He tensed under your hand, which was just on his shoulder. You removed it quickly, and cleared your throat.

“Fuck.” He exclaimed, pulling himself back up straight. “Do you really care about this stuff?” He asked, visor trained on you. In the daylight, you could make his eyes out behind the red filter.

“Eagle protection? It’s kind of low on my list, honestly.” You stated plainly.

“No, about me.” He clarified, tilting his head at you, voice soft.

“Oh, yeah. That’s easy, you’re super interesting.” You explained, resting your thumbs on the straps of your backpack.

“You should really tell people, if you’re being sarcastic. That way they know you’re being funny. Ha! Haha!” He told you, a fake laugh bursting from his lips, his tone laced with venom.

“I’m not being sarcastic; I really am curious about you, Vij. Why wouldn’t I be?” You made clear, coming to stop beside him, pulling your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Oh. Well, you called me a murderer last time.” He mumbled quietly, looking at the ground.

“You are, aren’t you?” You asked, willing him to look up.

“Yes. It normally turns people off. That or my personality, I’m told it’s ‘a lot.’” You stared at him for a moment, feeling anger to the people that had made him feel like he wasn’t worth knowing.

“I watched one of your fights.” You finally said, pulling his attention back to you.

“Why?” He sounded genuinely surprised, and you wrangled the words to explain how much he had invaded your brain without saying that you were straight up obsessed with him. Though, you felt obsessed. Your cheeks burned as you fumbled to explain, the embarrassment creeping up from your chest.

“I told you, I’m curious about you. You fight…I mean it’s remarkable. You move so…lithe and fast. So fast. What’s your power? I never asked, and I couldn’t find anything online.” You managed, struggling to get the last question out.

“Power?” His head was dramatically tilted to the side, and you breathed heavily through your nose. You couldn’t form a fully coherent phrase and he was still being so damn cute.

“Yeah, like your super power or whatever you call it.” You offered, waving your hand.

“I don’t have one.” He told you easily, perking back up.

“Really?” You asked, incredulous.

“Really.” He answered, simply.

“I saw you take out like twenty people, and get shot, and then literally skip away. You lost so much blood the last time I saw you, and you weren’t even woozy. That isn’t really something you can train out, Vij.” You had run it back a thousand times, it made no sense.

“I did. It was easy. Fighting is easy. Killing is easier. I never take a long time to heal, I told you, it was fine.”

“Okay, don’t tell me. Look, I enjoyed seeing you again, but I actually have some work to do.” You told him, gesturing to the blackberry bushes growing on the edge of the clearing.

“That’s why I’m here!” He chirped, excitedly. You narrowed your eyes at him, and realized that you weren’t getting anything done.

“Really, you’re here to help me clear out invasive bushes?” You countered, and he placed his hands on his hips.

“No, okay, I came by because I thought we could get wasted! It’s my day off!” He held up his hand with his thumb and pinky sticking out and pretended to chug.

“It’s not mine.” You told him, shaking your head. He repeated the motion, but with his shoulders sagged.

“I came all this way though.” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s like twenty minutes to the town, Vij.”

“Yeah, but the Vigilante-mobile is not good on gas.” He whined.

“Vigilante-mobile? Like the bat-mobile?” You asked, in complete disbelief.

“No, not like that. Anyway, I Ubered here and everything.” He explained, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You tried not to notice how broad he was, you really did.

“You Ubered? Dressed like that?” You indicated his suit, but continued ogling his arms.

“They don’t care, and besides, I wouldn’t be driving home drunk. That’s against the law. And, then I’d have to kill myself.” He told you, ending his rant with a sing-song voice.

“Fine, but I do have to do a few things, and then maybe I’ll call it a day early.” You offered, walking away from the blackberry. It was an area you’d been clearing for a while, it could wait one more day.

“Yes! I’ll help!” You eyed him, and sighed.

“Let’s just get back to the cabin, I noticed you limping.” You told him, leading him back through the woods. He huffed behind you. You actually wouldn’t mind another set of hands, but he was clearly not healed from the last time you’d seen him, and probably had another few wounds he wasn’t disclosing.

“I’m not.” He argued, and it made you smile. His insisting that he was fine was growing more and more ridiculous.

“You’re favoring your left foot.” You pointed out, coming to a stop again. He was leaning on his left side, and you watched him noticeably shift to the right and then wince.

“I’m really not.” He assured you, hands on his hips. You leaned in closer to him, and poked the spot you had stitched. He crumpled immediately, grabbing the spot.

“That hasn’t healed at all, I thought you recovered fast?” You snorted, teasing him.

“I lied. I thought you wanted me to have a power or something.” He groaned out, like you had punched him rather than poked him.

“Come on.” You told him, sighing and helping him straighten up. He tensed under your touch again, so you pulled away again, cursing yourself for doing it again. Fuck. You really wanted to touch him.

“It’s not far.” You promised, taking care to slow your normal pace and pick a path that had as few obstacles as possible. Vij was quiet on the walk back. When your cabin came into sight, you quickened your pace, anxious to get out of sight. You weren’t supposed to have anyone over, and you had a feeling that management would have serious concerns about Vigilante.

“What’s your poison?” You asked, hoping to draw him back out. You found yourself endeared to the near constant chatter, and devastated by its sudden loss. You pulled the door open, ushering him in. He stepped around you, his broad form taking up most of the door frame. You bit your lip, trying to focus on anything but his expansive back. Your eyes drifted down to the curve of his ass, and you regretted it immediately. It was too good.

“Polonium.” His answer cut through your thoughts, which you were sure were written on your face when he turned to you.

“That’s a literal poison, isn’t it?” You asked, not recognizing that as any kind of alcohol.

“Yes, just a seven trillionth of a gram is enough to kill a healthy adult human.” He told you, taking his gloves off and settling at the table. You laughed, and threw your pack down.

A real fucking poison, this guy.

“What do you want to drink? Like to “get wasted”?” You clarified, a dumb smile on your face.

“Oh, I thought we weren’t doing that. Since you’re working, technically.” He explained, confused, a frown clear from his tone. You just wanted him to push his mask up again. You were like a raw nerve, hoping for a sliver of skin.

“Fuck it. I got tequila?” You asked, reaching into your freezer and holding out the frosted bottle.

“Fuck yeah!” He exclaimed, shoulders lifting. You wanted to see his smile again. It had beamed so perfectly at you, he had beamed at you.

You filled two cups with a healthy splash and walked to join him at the table. He took one from you, as his visor tracked your movements.

“Drinking game?” He asked, rolling his mask carefully to his nose. Your thought scrambled immediately. If you didn’t kiss him soon, you thought you might actually explode.

“Sure, which one?” You asked, taking a deep drink from your cup. To calm the nerves, you told yourself. You swallowed the burn down, it was a smooth tequila, but it still burned the back of your throat.

“You’re so hot.” He blurted, smiling brightly at you.

“Afraid I don’t know that one, Vij.” You teased, hoping the red from his visor disguised your rapidly warming face.

“Sorry, I just looked at you again. That's all I can think about.” You bit your tongue, trying to keep from smiling like a maniac, you only let up when a sharp metallic taste flooded your mouth.

“You’re too hurt for sex.” You scolded him, trying to remind yourself of why it would be a bad idea to fuck him. You were running out of self-restraint.

“I’m not.” He argued again, and your heart fluttered mercilessly in your chest.

“The game?” You asked, changing the subject back to something more neutral. You had another drink, the tequila burning the new cut on your tongue.

“I don’t know, we get drunk and fuck?” He mumbled, grumpy, and it made you laugh.

“You know of so many different drinking games that I’ve never even heard of.” You teased.

“Was that sarcasm?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes.

“Yes. It was.” He took a drink. “Questions, then?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Truth or dare?” He asked, changing the game.

“Truth.” You told him, staring at the way his fingers flexed around his cup. You wondered how they’d feel against your throat.

“Do you want to see my face?” He asked, breaking your thoughts. It took you by surprise.

“That was a waste of a truth. Of course, I do, you know I do.” You told him, taking a sip of your drink. “Truth or dare, Vij.”

“Dare.” You stared at the red visor, behind your own reflection you could see his eyes. They were distorted, the colors askew, but the shape was distinct. Your gaze roved down to his bare mouth, which was parted. His lips were wet from the tequila, and red from his teeth. You watched him bite into his lip again, and any coherent thought you had fled you.

“Kiss me.” His hands were on you before the words were out, hauling you to him, pulling you into him. Your mouths met in a clash of teeth, sharp and biting, against the soft pliant skin of your lips. You couldn’t tell if the cut on your tongue was the cause of the iron taste, or if one of your lips were busted, but you didn’t care. His mouth was pressing against yours in an all-consuming heat. You settled against him, straddling his hips, and felt his hands wander up your body. You pushed his head back, baring his throat to you and you sank your teeth in before sucking the spot. He moaned under you, loudly, the sound tearing from him. You moved back to his mouth, slotting yours against his, slipping your tongue in. He met you with equal ferocity, the kiss more of a battle than a languid meeting of mouths. Neither of you wanted to give ground, but both of you were desperate for it. You whined into his mouth when he rutted up against you, too many layers separating you from him. He laughed into yours, and roughly squeezed your ass.

You pulled away, and he followed you up to nip against your jaw, lathing his tongue down your neck, before biting you as harshly as you had him.

“Truth or dare?” He mumbled against your throat, sucking deep bruises into the thin skin. You shivered at the feeling, as he focused on your pulse point.

“Dare.” You answered breathlessly, surging forward to kiss him again. You kept it chaste, pulling away again quickly, pressing open mouthed kisses down his cheek to his throat, licking up his throat to his ear. He threw his head back, moaning, giving you access.

“Take my mask off.” He demanded, the urgency not lost on you. You pulled away, though. The instruction was clear, but the intent was not. You stood up off of him completely, and took a step back to get distance between you and his skin.

“No.” You managed to get out, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“The fuck do you mean, “no?” That’s the dare? I thought you wanted to see me? What the fuck?” Vij demanded, leaning forward on his knees. The skin you could see was flushed, with noticeably darker spots blooming where you had bruised.

“You can’t just show me your face.” You chided, putting your hands on your hips.

“I want to. Do you only want to fuck Vigilante?” He asked, his voice wavering, the confident tone lost.

“No, of course not. But you don’t know me, Vij. You can’t trust me.” You explained, agitated. Agitated that you were once again the only reason you weren’t having sex.

“We just made out! It was so hot! You can’t stop now!” He demanded, but he stayed in the chair. You realized that he wasn’t going to force anything. It made you want him that much more, but you knew it wasn’t the right call. When he cooled down, he’d feel the same, you were sure.

“That doesn’t matter. You have to be careful. Do you show everyone you make out with?” You implored, growing genuinely concerned for his safety.

“I don’t make out with anyone! If I have sex with random hotties as Vigilante, the mask stays completely on. Even when I had that threesome.” You chose to ignore the threesome comment, but realized he was being honest. When he spoke succinctly, you knew he was telling the truth.

“You don’t know me.” You repeated lamely, the words stiff in your ears. He exhaled shakily, and drained the last of his cup.

“Truth or dare?” He asked again, and you huffed out a sigh. You took a moment to consider your real options.

“Dare.” You decided, crossing the floor to where he sat.

“Take off my mask.” He repeated, and before he was done, you had lifted your hands to the rolled edges. You pulled slowly, trying not to pull his hair, and trying to not show how badly your hands were shaking. You gasped softly when you revealed his eyes, and your favorite shade of green stared back at you. You focused your attention on his eyes, the ones you’d seen behind the visor. They were the shade of the forest in the morning, soft golden flecks embedded in the crisp green. You tugged his mop of curls, and kissed him again.

“Beautiful.” You murmured against his lips, and they pulled up into the brightest smile you’d ever seen.

“I trust you. You saved my life. I want to know everything about you too, I mean that’s why I came back.”

“Sick.” You told him, breaking the tension, teasingly. He laughed and pulled you to his chest tightly.

tagged: @michi-reads

#adrian chase x reader #Adrian chase x you #vigilante x reader #vigilante x you #vigilante x female reader #vigilante x fem!reader #vigilante x f!reader #adrian chase x female reader #Adrian chase x fem!reader #Adrian chase x f!reader #Adrian chase #vigilante #peacemaker #peacemaker hbo max

245 notes · View notes

ichijager13 · 2 years ago

Text

Teach me how to be loved

Chapter VII

Fuck yeah, give it to me, this is Heaven, what I truly want

Pairing : Eren Jäger x reader

Characters: Eren Jäger, Annie Leonhart, Pieck Finger.

Tags: Unhealthy coping mechanism, unhealthy relationships, childhood trauma, physical and verbal abuse, self-esteem and trust issues, domestic violence, implied/ referenced cheating, and a touch of sweet, lovable, and non fuckboy Eren Jäger

This fic is brought to you by Lana Del Rey’s songs

Masterlist, AO3, Playlists: Reader’s POV, Eren’s POV

A/N: Heyllo, I would like to thank the sweet @bloompompom for helping with this chapter and for beta-reading. you are an angel ❤️

I also would like to thank you for reading and interacting with my story. I hope you are enjoying it so far.

Likes and reblogs are more than welcome

You were so invested in the kiss you didn’t hear the door click open. Not sure how but he somehow managed to insert the key and open the door without taking his lips off yours. Fortunately, he caught you before you fall.

The yelp that escaped from you earned a short laugh from him. “Stop laughing”. you frowned turning your face away from him.

“I’m sorry”. He stifled his laughter. “You’re beautiful”. He hummed cupping your face. The sudden compliment made you feel so vulnerable. At this point, you are willing to let him do anything to you.

He hopped you on his shoulder and headed straight to his bedroom. Before even your feet touched the ground, his lips were back on top of yours. His kisses have the power to make the room spin around you and your knees feel like marshmallows, just like how you remember them. Wanting more, needing more, you tilted your head and grabbed him by his shoulder, bringing him closer to you.

Still devouring your lips like a starved man, he let his hands slip under your dress. They were everywhere, following a map only he knew existed. Altering between light touches and urgently kneading and grabbing your flesh. Craving more, he undid the zipper of your dress and helped you step out of it. during all this time, your lips didn’t separate for longer than the time needed for catching your breath.

With more of you exposed to his greedy hands, he didn’t leave one spot unexplored. Big, calloused, and warm hands were felt on every inch of your skin. Following every dip, drawing every curve, and linking all your scars and moles. His hands were strong, yet the touch was delicate in a way you never imagined a human being was capable of and it made you feel lightheaded.

With trembling hands, you unclasped the first buttons of his shirt before you decided it would be better for both of you to just pull it off his head. you both paused, short and sharp breathing and dark eyes, taking your time admiring the other’s body. No matter how many times he had you like this, Eren always finds himself out of words whenever you are standing in front of him like this.

Slowly, you guided the tip of your fingers along his sculpted body. Going down, feeling the heat radiating from him and his muscles tense under your touch, you continued your journey down his torso until you reached his belt.

But before you managed to unbuckle it, he took both your hands in his and guided you to his bed. you let him lay you down before he climbed on top of you. The first peck landed on the tip of your nose, followed by some on the apple of your cheek. He then littered soft kisses along your jawline. He kissed each corner of your mouth before finally capturing your lips. this time he didn’t wait, he immediately shoved his tongue past your plump lips. the sensations caused by the way his tongue caressed yours made you press your legs together, slowly squirming. A groan left him when you slowly rocked your core back and forth against him shortly after he place his knee between your legs.

Pulling away, you tugged on his heavy lower lip with your teeth. You then guided your lips behind his ear going down to his neck and his shoulder leaving behind you a trail of wet kisses and soft bites. And finally went back to the nape; you remained there nibbling and sucking the thin skin, producing wet sounds that riled him.

Meanwhile, one of Eren’s hands was caressing your breasts.

You dipped your teeth further when he pinched your hardened bud.

His other hand held your hip still. You were so close to your demise which made you whine at the loss of the delicious friction. “Be patient”. He rasped before dipping between your legs. He hooked a finger to the waistband of your tights and pulled them down alongside your panties. Once he got rid of the last piece keeping him from feeling your slit, he scattered some open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh before slipping two digits inside you. “Fuck”. He mumbled, making his way back to your lips. and that’s when he did it. that’s when he started fucking your mouth with his tongue. His wet muscle moved in perfect synchronization with his fingers driving you crazy and making you see the stars in the middle of his dimly lit bedroom. The sloppiness of his moves made you arc your back and produce filthy noises. The way you were reacting to his touch was making him aching for more. The sensation of your walls squishing his fingers made his mind go blank. And he knew it, he knew it was only a matter of time before he becomes more desperate than you are. And it happened, you made him lose control of himself. You made him drag his fingers out of you, unbuckle his belt, free his swollen shaft, and slam himself inside you without a warning. Knowing what led to this, you did it again. Only this time you sucked on his tongue slowly, you swiped your tongue leisurely around his and caressed it gently, just like you did with his dick the last time you had your lips wrapped around it.

Eren wasn’t very vocal, so, hearing him growling into your mouth like a wounded animal when you rolled your tongue around his, made the thin strings of sanity you had left break. You sucked one last time on his tongue before releasing it.

“Eren”. You breathed, “Yes, there”. you rolled your hips, trying to get more friction, to get him deeper.

“Are you on birth control?” He asked minutes later. “I’m, Fuck, I’m about to cum”. He howled bucking his hips harder against your center.

“Mmh, y-yes”. after a few more thrusts you felt his body tense and a warm liquid painting your walls. He continued pounding into you before falling next to you.

“Forgot to put on a condom, sorry”. He explained out of breath. “Now it’s your turn”. He followed, voice husky and filled with need as if he hasn’t just cum.

His hand made its way between your bodies. Without pulling himself from you, he started drawing slow circles on your clit. You gasped at the contact of your heated bud with his cold pad. “Sorry”. He murmured against your lips. He picked up the pace as the kiss deepened.

Feeling your climax approaching, you hocked a leg around his waist and started rocking your hips. The bliss that washed over you was like nothing you have experienced before, not even with Eren. You continued fucking yourself through your orgasm until you started feeling sore.

“Wait”. He grabbed your hipbone holding you still when you tried to pull away. “Just a little more”. He added setting the slowest tempo he found himself capable of. Your sensitive core was spasming around him, greedily sucking him in until he came for the second time inside you. He pressed a few kisses to your lips and cheeks before he dragged himself out, careful not to hurt you. “Are you alright?” He inquired.

“Yes”. you managed to replay.

“You won’t run away tomorrow morning, will you?” He asked once the fog clouded up his mind dissipated. One of his hands was messing with your hair.

“I won’t”. you replied nuzzling his neck.

“Do you pinky promise not to?” The serious tone he used dragged a corny laugh from you.

“What are you, a four-year-old kid?” You scoffed.

“Maybe”. He grabbed your jaw, making your eyes meet. “Don’t run away again”. He repeated before closing the gap between your lips. “Please”.

Your hand slowly caressed his cheek, how did you end up here, you asked yourself.

Before you could contemplate the question further, Eren’s lips working down your throat rendered your thoughts null. Defeated, you let your head fall back giving him more access. Your eyes fluttered shut, dissolving under his divine touch.

“I won’t… Ah… I promise, I won’t”. you babbled. “Eren”. You whined in protest when he interrupted what he was doing, staring at you, puzzled. “I promise I won’t run away”. You clarified taking place between his legs. He nodded watching you with hazy eyes, taking his half-erected sex in your hand. You stroked it for a couple of minutes before pressing your lips to the tip. Your hand still moving up and down lazily, you took him in your mouth. Just like earlier with his tongue, you suckled on him, taking in one inch after the other. The faint grunt that escaped from him, let you know you were doing things right. working with both your hands and mouth, you zero your eyes on him watching him grimace as you picked up the pace.

At one point, he reached his hand, caressing your cheek where his tip pocked and smiled fondly at you. the way you looked, lips stretched around him and both hands pleasuring him made him lose any sense of reality. He started moving his hips, meeting you halfway while one hand rested at the back of your head pulling you closer. You surrendered yourself to him and let him take the lead until that one abrupt buck. You felt him twitch inside your mouth before he coated your tongue with his seed. You swallowed whatever he had to offer you before you sat near him.

You studied the man lying next to you as he rode out his euphoria. Such a gorgeous man, you thought to yourself when his eyes locked gaze with you. they were burning with lust and desire, and you loved it. you loved the way he was staring up at you. you loved how he sat straight and brought you to his lap. You loved the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. And for a moment, for a split second, you wanted for this to last forever.

Feeling his lips crashing against yours, you chased away those thoughts and focused on his tongue’s movements. The kiss was feverish, messy and you never wanted it to end. You pressed your forehead against his and one hand on the back of his neck, kissing him back with the same passion. You trail your lips from his along his jaw, down his neck, and over the bump of his Adam’s apple. Dipping your teeth above his collarbone while straddling him. your grip on his neck tightened when you grabbed his shaft and lined it with your entrance.

Mouth ajar, Eren hissed, feeling himself sinking deeper than he has ever been inside you. Overwhelmed by the delicious feeling of having him this deep, you paused, trying to adjust to his presence. Moments later, you started idly moving your hips up and down.

Head falling back, eyes squeezed shut, Eren was in trans. The bites you were leaving across his shoulders, creating red spots on his tanned skin, and your nails raking down his shoulder blade, leaving scratches behind them made holding still impossible. One of his hands reached for your hipbone while the other grabbed your jaw. He brought your face closer to his as he set a new pace, guiding your hips and thrusting up. “Eren”, you moaned into his mouth, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He continued fucking up into you, feeling your walls grow tighter, announcing the approach of your climax. You were getting closer, so close, you protested when he pulled out of you out of nowhere, with a loud grunt. “Be patient”. He groaned laying you on your back before pounding back inside you. his hips rutted at a merciless rhythm, you found yourself digging your nails into his back to keep yourself from shattering and collapsing underneath him.

Your walls tightened around him when he cupped your pussy and commenced toying with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fuck”. He growled feeling you tense and stutter like a broken record.

Like your bodies were synchronized, you came simultaneously. After a couple of frantic jolts, he pulled himself out of you and laid beside you.

Body still trembling, you glanced at the green-eyed man facing you. A lazy smile made its way across his face making something deep inside you click. He cupped your face gently, as if he didn’t hammer himself into you a moment ago, and kissed you. unlike earlier, he took his time to savor your lips.

“Shower?” his voice was still a bit husky making you ache for more of him. instead, you nodded slowly. He left the bed and disappeared inside the bathroom. You waited until your thoughts became clear enough to follow him without stumbling into anything.

You gasped when your eyes fell on his back. It was all red and he was bleeding in some spots. “I’m sorry”. You mumbled. Confused, he stared at you. “Your back”. You pointed, and he glanced at the mirror.

A light scoff left him, “It’s alright, don’t bother yourself”. He held his hand for you to join him under the shower.

You were drying your hair when he tossed you a t-shirt. You brushed your hair and put the shirt and your panties on before joining him in bed. He scooped you closer, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips. you then, rested your head on his shoulder laying next to him. He brushed the strands that fell on your face smiling. “You’re so beautiful it makes my heart skip a beat each time I look at you”. his words made, your already rosy cheeks from the events of the night and the hot shower you took, crimson. Lost for words, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, unable to fight back the ridiculous smile spreading across your lips.

His soft lips grazing your forehead was the last souvenir you registered from this night before you were down for the count.

Soon after, Eren followed.

23 notes · View notes

taeyohonic · 3 years ago

Text

stolen dances | epilogue

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning (contains spoilers): talk about minor physical violence, alcohol, swearwords, lots of feelings, therapy talk, talk about sex, talk about miscarriage, talk about low self-esteem, angst

words: 3800

links: prev. | [masterlist]

note: lower case letters intended.

one year later

“we are done talking about this.”

“no, you are done talking about this.”

“okay, so i’m done talking about this.”

“well, i’m not. so, we’ll continue this fight.”

“i thought we were having a discussion?”

“ha! you pointed fingers only a minute ago.”

“and?”

“it’s a clear sign of aggression – right hoseok?”

your therapist is watching the both of you like he’s afraid to even blink.

“don’t look at me, honey, i’m not getting in the middle of this.”

“but we pay you to get in the middle of this!” now, even jungkook looks at your therapist with mild anticipation. surely, he’ll take his side.

“don’t look at him like that!” you hiss and poke into jungkook’s unarmed side. your boyfriend flinches and turns his ridiculously wide eyes onto you.

“why am i not allowed to look at hoseok-hyung?” he whines while rubbing his side.

“because you are seducing him!” your accusation is met with a snort form both men.

“okay – let’s take a step back,” jungkook says, “we’ll be out of the country at the time of the wedding anyway. why should we rearrange a whole tour, so we can both attend my ex-fianceé’s wedding?”

jungkook does sound lost. he’s talking to you in his soft voice and there is no trace of the heat from moments before. your boyfriend does really not understand why you are so keen to go to this reception.

“don’t you get the significance of us congratulating her on that day?” you ask just as softly. but jungkook only shakes his head, not ready to budge.

“no, i don’t. this was not her inviting her ex-fiancé but her company inviting a business partner.”

their shared contracts and projects run smoothly, no bad blood between the two companies. it was one thing jungkook never worried about – his former girlfriend has always been able to separate her feelings from work. and it’s a big wedding – of course they’ll have to invite the ceo of the biggest sportwear brand in south korea. it would be a scandal not to.

“even if it’s just a nicety… you not wanting to attend makes me… feel…,” both men lean toward to look at you in anticipation, “weird.”

“that was… really anticlimactic, honey,” hoseok huffs and leans back again. but jungkook’s eyes shine with empathy at your reveal.

“then i’ll get management to shift around some dates.”

the concession comes swift. maybe he does understand your feelings, maybe he doesn’t. but either way, he acts on them.

“so… wait a second,” hoseok has a hard not letting his own personal feelings blending in this session, “does that mean we have to change tour dates?”

you grimace at your therapist while jungkook takes your hand, only to squeeze it tightly.

two dozen movie nights after the airport hug

yoongi has never brought a better whiskey and jimin has never sounded more intelligent. they should get awarded for sure, you think as you rest your flushed cheek against jungkook’s tattoos. his skin is just as warm, but you hum at the contact nonetheless.

“it will be epic! we’ll combine our best of with your remixes and a few new songs! people would eat that shit up!” jimin’s eyes shift around the room, his stare too glazed to hold eye contact for long. still, the room vibrates with his enthusiasm.

“i mean jimin has a point. remember how army reacted after we posted the ‘spring day’ remix?” seokjin says while massaging namjoon’s shoulder. his boyfriend snorts at the memory. “yeah, twitter was down for like… an hour.”

you, too, chuckle at the reminder. it was your call at the end after all the boys ok’ed the release. it had taken a long – and painful – discussion with hoseok and jungkook, but in the end it was a song you recorded with your best friends. and even though the cause was bittersweet, the art itself was not.

“but… do we have new songs?” taehyung asks quietly from the opposite couch. it’s only his seconds movie night after his europe trip and you can feel the hesitation radiating from the singer with every move he makes. still, you are glad he’s back.

“do we- do we have new songs? taehyungie! the audacity! have you not seen me performing with yoongi-hyung on vlive? people loved ‘tony montana’! and don’t think i haven’t noticed you,” now drunk jimin is pointing at jungkook, “writing again in your tiny notebook!”

you feel your boyfriend flinch in surprise and you sooth him with soft circles drawn on his tattoos. his eyes smile in thanks. jungkook has shared a handful songs with you over the last months. they have been self-reflective, hard to swallow, beautifully romantic and way too personal.

“so, what do you guys think? should we retired grandpas tour again? just for old times sake?” the former leader of bangtan looks at his bandmates with care, guarded not to show his own emotions too soon. but when jimin begins to dance some way too outdated fortnight dances – and the maknaes join him – the excitement spills out of seokjin like a flood.

and the army in you can’t contain herself as you join the group drunkenly dancing in jungkook’s room. your boyfriend twirls you around only to press you close to him a second later.

a hungover taehyung cries the next morning – seated between your favorite barista and ex-therapist – when they show him his part in the new cypher.

a day after the tour announcement

“no, it’s yours – it’s… only yours. i won’t share this.” jungkook’s voice is strained while the both of you sit on your bed. it’s a sunday morning and the warm sunlight shines on your breakfast in bed. he was the one who got up first, nearly burning down your kitchen before ordering uber eats ten minutes later. now, two coffees in, the both of you are discussing jungkook’s song picks, again.

“i’m not trying to push you – but i just want you to know that it’s okay with me. totally okay. one hundred percent okay,” you reassure him.

“and i love you for that, i really do,” your heart skips two beats at once, “but ‘still with you’ is ours. and i’ll keep it this way.”

jungkook is at peace with his decision: ‘my time’ will be the new song he’s submitting for the golden tour of bangtan. it’s a raw song where he reflects on his idol days – how all his time kept slipping away or moving too fast, how there are traces of loss he only noticed when his world came crashing down. it is one song he wrote while you were in paris. he’s okay with sharing this on tour; but not ‘still with you’.

thirteen nights before ‘still with you’ is written

“shut up!” you shout. it’s silent in your apartment, but you still hear jungkook’s harsh breathing. the former idol stands tall across the room. the distance does both of you good, judging by your heated faces. the night outside your flat is calm and chilly while the inside is brimming with heat.

“why do i have to shut up every time i’m trying to explain myself?” jungkook asks in a whisper. “why don’t you want to listen to me?” now he sounds hurt. but he hurt you before and a toxic part of you is glad he, too, feels pain now.

“i know i won’t like what i hear,” you answer him harshly. and you mean it. anything jungkook has to say about his former relationship will be hard to swallow.

“how can we possibly do this,” your best friend his wildly gesturing between the two of you, “when we can’t handle the past?”

you hate how grown up jungkook sounds. but then you remember how easy it is for him to say that.

“well, jeon, let’s get this straight – you want to get something off your chest. but that means it’ll rest on mine. and… i’ve been carrying a lot of weight for the last year.”

even yoongi commented – free of charge – that hiding from jungkook’s mistakes isn’t the healthiest option. although it seems to be so much easier. apart from the part where jungkook seems far too eager to explain every single of his actions. it’s frustrating.

“_____,” jungkook moves across the room, only to stop a breath away from you, “it’s not about shifting weight, it’s about losing ballast – for both of us.”

there is a childish part of you who doesn’t want to budge. still, you try to be the bigger person. so, nodding at your best friend, you sit down at the dining table. you push the half-eaten take-out out of the way, while jungkook joins you cautiously.

“so, what do you want to talk about first?” you ask not looking into his eyes. “how about the time you left me on an island to get to her? hm? is that worth discussing?”

you see him flinch before he takes a deep breath. you know you sound mean – even uncooperative. but it’s your right to be.

“how about something easier… how about why i proposed?” his offer takes you by surprise. it shouldn’t be harder to explain him fleeing from your summer trip. but why does his face tell you otherwise?

“you loved her,” you whisper into the room, not ready to face the truth behind your response. it’s the snort from across the table that makes you stare into jungkook’s brown eyes.

“don’t be ridiculous. i had known her for only two months.”

it’s true. the whole gang had only met her a handful of times before jungkook announced their engagement. but you knew that they had been doing business for longer than half a year.

“our paths didn’t cross until a project in beijing. up to then all the meetings were virtually or delegated.” jungkook’s confession does not add up. what was he trying to say here?

“i… i slept with her in beijing,” he says without any emotions only seconds later. your eyes widen as your heart sinks at his words. a part of you always knew they had been physically intimate. still, it’s crushing to hear the love of your life saying that to your face.

jungkook looks so small while his eyes try to catch yours. he seems desperate when he moves some of the containers out of the way only to place his palms flat on your table. his muscles tense under unknown weight.

“connections… they have always been hard for me, ____. the dating ban during my idol years had been rough. you can’t imagine how… alone i felt some years.” you do know that the industry did a number on them. you saw it in seokjin’s hesitation when namjoon left his toothbrush at his place. all of army witnessed it firsthand when jimin flinched during a recent vlive, only because yoongi squeezed his tight.

the men – old enough to be fathers – are constipated. even hoseok attested that in one of your first shared sessions.

“so, what? you have trouble with feelings so you slept with the woman the first time you met her? how does that make any sense?” you ask, truly lost. the man across from you breathes in deeply.

“it was clumsy, it was… easy… and it felt… good not to be alone,” he confesses. it’s difficult to hear, but you understand him on some level. physical affection without an emotional connection can be easy.

“okay, cool. thanks for the explanation. but… why the marriage?” you question, not sure you want to hear the answer.

jungkook looks at his best friend with tired eyes. he knows the next words, but he won’t utter them. he’ll lose you for sure.

“please, jungkook?” you beg in a whispered breath. it’s not lost on you how fast this conversation has shifted – from him wanting to share to you begging him to. it’s the description of your relationship: a whirlwind of emotions, chaos without control.

“she got pregnant.” well, damn.

ten nights before ‘still with you’ is written

“so, honey won’t be joining us?” hoseok asks softly, regarding jungkook’s tapping foot with a blank face.

“i don’t think so,” jungkook responds without meeting hoseok’s eyes. the younger male looks as uncomfortable as his therapist has ever seen him.

“so… what do you want to talk about?” it’s silent for a while, but his hyung isn’t ready to intervene. after another deep breath, he answers.

“maybe about why i never thought honey was an option?”

the former idol looks lost in his own world, still, his words have been spoken into reality.

“what do you mean?” hoseok asks, totally knowing what jungkook meant.

the man pulls at his hair while answering.

“i had feelings for honey for a long time… why didn’t i … why did i never consider her as an option? and why now? what changed?”

“maybe you did. maybe your self-esteem needed to catch up with your feelings,” hoseok offers.

“ha! i don’t have self-esteem issues, hyung!” jungkook chuckles at his suggestion.

“out of our friend group, who is best suited for _____?” hoseok asks cautiously.

“min yoongi” jungkook doesn’t even have to think about it. his jealousy meeting your first therapist is still engraved in his memory.

“and after him?”

“kim namjoon” he fires back, still not even contemplating his answer.

“and then?”

“kim seokjin”

“jungkook… where do you stand on that list?” hoseok asks next. it makes jungkook pause, only for a second.

“at the bottom… but in front of kim taehyung.”

the night ‘still with you’ is written

“why didn’t you tell me she was pregnant?” it’s the first time he’s heard your voice after your late night talk. you sound exhausted – but still, listening to your voice makes him giddy. he’s holed up in his office, mrs. yang long gone.

today should be movie night, weren’t it for jungkook canceling it a day prior. right now, he doesn’t need his friends. he just needs you.

“i don’t know,” he answers your abrupt greeting.

“that’s not good enough,” you fire back. the merlot in your blood giving you confidence you do not possess.

“a part of me wants to think i didn’t want to burden you with my problem.”

“a baby isn’t a problem, jungkook.”

“in this situation, it was. for me.”

after a beat of silence you respond.

“and the other part of you?”

“the other part didn’t want the woman i have feelings for knowing about my unborn child with another woman.”

it’s a low blow. and you hang up before he finishes talking. it’s raining that night when jungkook drives to your apartment. he sees the light in your windows, but he doesn’t get out of his car. for a long time, all he wants to do is knock. although his heart knows you won’t answer. for all this time, he as never felt further away from you.

his hands shake while typing words on his screen. when will it be? if i see you again i will look into your eyes and say, "i missed you".

two coffee dates after you took his calls again

“you do know it’s not really a date when park jimin sits next to you, right?” you chuckle while jungkook looks at his hyung with a death stare.

“he wouldn’t believe we are talking again, honey. what was i supposed to do?”

“i don’t know – not care for example?” you answer, still smiling softly at the men across from you.

“excuse me – the both of you were my project from day one. i just wanne see this” the former idol points with his green shake from jungkook to you “as an investor.”

jungkook looks ready to commit murder, but your hand on his arm makes him stop. your eyes are kind as you look at the man you’ve loved for a long time. it’s sickening how easy it is to let him in.

“and i do need your help picking out an engagement ring for yoongi-hyung!” jimin adds, only for you to spit some of your favorite mocha in his handsome face.

the second time jungkook cries in your arms

jungkook has been nervous for hours. his coo actually canceled a presentation this afternoon because his ceo couldn’t stop fidgeting around. even his assistants were too afraid to aid their boss. but now, standing in front of your door, he feels thrice as nervous. jungkook is not sure he’ll survive this.

r u ready? he types, only to receive a thumb up two seconds later. then he hears you running down the steps before rushing out of the front door. and you see only him – wide eyed jeon jungkook, in a suit without tie, messed up hair and some way too expensive flower bouquet under his arm. your smile is radiant when you hug him. and if jungkook squeezes you a bit too tight, you don’t comment on it.

“so, where are you taking me, kookie?” you ask with a finale squeeze. then you take the flowers from a still overwhelmed jungkook, only to move closer to his car. the ride to the gym is silent and seeing how agitated your best friend drives, you are not suicidal enough to string up a conversation.

it’s the gasp you make when he parks that puts the first real smile of the day on his face. you recognize the surrounding.

“it’s… it’s – is it?” you stutter while jungkook guides you to the empty gym hall. it’s where you met – the place where jungkook hosted the kids workshop. you remember how excited your class was that day; meeting a famous idol and the producer of half of their sportswear had been a rush for your little students. it was the first time you saw the sweat on jungkook’s temple from only a few feet away.

“it is,” he answers, only to turn on the light. the practice room smells just the same and your smile widens at the picknick blanket and food you see prepped in the corner. jungkook really went all out.

“isn’t that a bit too sentimental for an evening date?” you tease him which makes your best friend come up behind you, encircling your waist. you can see the both of your from the mirror wall – it’s a pretty picture.

“how about the date i ask you to be my girlfriend?” he whispers into your ear, his hair tickling your skin. you flush instantly as your heartbeat quickens. you’ve waited a long time and judging by jungkook’s hold on you, so did he.

it’s as easy as breathing when you nod at your own reflection. the following kiss is hot and wet. you don’t know who cries first, but at the end, you are both a sobbing mess. it’s the first time you see him cry after he told you about his fianceé’s miscarriage a week prior. and you shine, knowing these are tears of joy today.

356 days till jungkook proposes to you

“why am i this nervous? there is no reason for me to be this nervous. there is no reason to be nervous at all. i’ve done this since child labor was legal,” seokjin’s breakdown is only background music while jungkook sucks a purple spot onto your neck. the both of you are cuddling on one of the massage chairs backstage. all the chatter around you would have made you nervous as well. some make up artists are still drawing on namjoon, while jimin gets his dress shirt steamed. all former – and new – idols are excited for the tour opening. it’s a hot spring day, only the ac is helping jungkook’s foundation not to run down his cheeks.

your boyfriend looks too comfortable against your neck, breathing softly against your blooming skin. jungkook’s obsession with hickeys has been a surprise; not a bad one, but still unexpected. he’s gifted you the most expensive silk scarfs for school to make up for the bruisers on your neck.

“stop sucking on honey, kookie,” seokjin orders, momentary forgetting his own meltdown. jungkook just hums against your skin, not moving an inch.

“ya, maknae! do you want her on the first page again, hm?” seokjin asks while coming closer to you. with trained fingers he pinches jungkook’s ear. the younger one whines in responds but does not move.

the last four months of dating jeon jungkook have been interesting to say the least. you’ve been on more covers than you’d like. not all photos were taking with your permission and the first time you saw your bare face next to jungkook’s at the farmers market printed on some shady magazine, you felt violated. nowadays you just try to ignore it.

“she looked amazing last time,” taehyung adds softly from his makeup chair. you smile at him, grateful for the boost of confidence from the model. last week was jungkook’s ex-fianceé’s wedding and you’ve – predictably – made it onto the front page. both you and your boyfriend were dressed to the nines. it was a lovely day, no hurt lingered as you congratulated the bride.

it seemed like lifetimes ago that the older woman handing you a glass of champagne was the same enraged mother who slapped you only one and a half years ago.

“yeah, but now she looks like rode kill,” yoongi comments drily. but you can see his chewed-on nails – your ex-therapist is nervous and tries to deflect. you smirk at him, only for yoongi to divert his gaze. it will be the first time he’s on this size of stage. and it’ll be the first time he’ll show off his new accessory – the emerald ring on his finger hard to miss with the sun shining brightly today.

“you are beautiful, honey,” jungkook mumbles, not allowing his lips from leaving your neck.

and even though you’re underground you feel cherry blossoms on your skin.

___

i don’t know. i really don’t. reviews were mixed last chapter and i totally get that. i hope this answers some of your questions and gives you a bit of closure. this fanfiction has given me so many emotions, i could paint with them. it’s been i wild ride – from abandoning the story to picking it up again to changing the plotlines to switching the sml to adding a tone of side ships to finishing this alone on a sunday night.

i’m so grateful for every comment, thought, feedback, praise, critique, question, gif, scream, follow, like, kudo, bookmark. i’m really honored to be a part of your reading nook. don’t be a stranger! my inbox is (almost always) empty. i’ll probably cycle back to stolen dances, so, if i post any more in betweens, i’ll continue to tag you guys!

a lot of love from dana

p.s. as i promised, you’ll find the description of my second installment posted today as well! maybe you’ll be interested 😊

taglist: @livewittykid @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad @jinsearthh @kseokwu @betysotelo18 @daydreambrliever @untouchabyeol-man @lesyeuxdeyifei @lachimolala-2l @moonchild1 @taejinvol6 @deliciousdetectivestranger @unchoosablename @httpfandxms @fangirl125reader @miniiimee @jeonlovescoffee @hello-kittyy @kokoandkookie @mwitsmejk @definetlythinkimanalien

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #bts x reader #bts x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

180 notes · View notes