#the moment they start showing some sort of hint of not being as close to me as they used to my brain just short-circuits | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvvyouforever · 1 month ago

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declan o'hara - nsfw alphabet

ᡣ𐭩 for all my declan lovers (including me) ᡣ𐭩 nsfw content, mdni, 18+ ᡣ𐭩 more declan writing will be coming soon, don't worry! these are easy to fill out and write so hopefully this sates you all mwah

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

his aftercare takes a minute to start. he's usually so intense that the both of you really need a moment to catch your breath and come back down to reality. once he's reverted to normal, he can check in on you, offer a warm cloth, or cold glass of water. when the two of you are physically feeling better, he'll pull you into his big chest, all warm and protected, and probably light a cigarette.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he loves his arms and shoulders. it's not that he really works out and carves them, but he knows he's a big man and flexing them the right way gets you going. he likes being able to encase you in them, holding you as close as possible.

as for you, i think he's an ass man for sureeee. his hands always fly to your cheeks, both in the bedroom and outside of it. his palm covers so much of the skin and he just loves the feeling of squeezing it between his fingers. please wear some tight dresses and pants and bend over directly in front of him.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he wants to cum in you every single time. you might want to consider going on some sort of birth control too just in case. he just loves fucking into you so deep and just as he's finishing, he'll push in to the hilt and fill you up with himself. he could genuinely go for a second round in just a second once he sees the mix of your cum and his seep out of you. gosh, he's dirty.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

has so many fantasies in his head of what he wants to do to you, especially in a more roleplay style too. like he imagines you as his receptionist that he can bend over his desk, hike up your tight pencil skirt, and use you. or he daydreams about coming home to you in the kitchen with a skimpy outfit and apron on and eating you out against the kitchen counter.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he's pretty experienced, but not as much as other characters in the show (hint, hint). like he knows how to make someone feel good and is pretty confident in his skills too! his body count may not be as high, but to him, the quality really matters more than the quantity. and with the way he undos you during sex, you'd certainly agree.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

he loves anything where he can grip and squeeze and smack your ass. he enjoys doggy because it offers him the easiest access to your ass. when he's feeling really intimate and serious, he loves laying you flat on the bed and pushing himself on top of you. makes him feel so close to you, but also enjoys the way your ass can push against his hips.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's so serious when he has sex. it's all about you and him and everything else fades out. in the lead up, he might be full of some dark chuckles at your neediness or quiet laughter while you're flirting. but once his lips are on yours and his hands are roaming your body, he's replaced with this stoic, dominant declan.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he's not like a jungle, but he certainly doesn't groom himself to the point where he's clean shaven. i mean, look at his chest and his mustache. woof. he probably trims it to a reasonable amount, but doesn't put much effort into it otherwise. it's curly and wavy though, like his hair.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he's much more of a spur of the moment, making out from the front door to the bedroom kinda guy. i don't see him as the man to decorate your bedroom in rose petals. that doesn't mean he isn't intimate and romantic in the act though! he's all about whispering sweet and kind, but also terribly filthy things in your ear while he's unraveling you below him. he makes sure you know just how beautiful he finds you the whole night.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he's not above jerking off, but he knows he'll be coming back to your delicious body every night, so why would he? unless you're gone for a while, or he's off doing stuff for venturer overnight, he'll probably hold off. that isn't to say though that when you might be sending him particularly raunchy texts (for modern declan) or have left him wanting more of you, he won't go into the bathroom and ease the painful bulge beneath his pants. it's just not very common when he'd rather be on you as soon as he steps in the door.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

he's pretty dominant and enjoys taking control in the bed. he wants you to listen to him and give yourself over to him. it's the highest compliment. he loves biting and marking badddd. gets so aroused in the morning when he sees the hickeys he left on your skin from the night before. loves cockwarming on lazy days inside. i don't think he's a full sadist, but really gets off seeing his large red handprint on your ass. he's just possessive and loves making you his every night. also likes being called daddy in the right headspace.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

loves doing it anywhere in the house. not a very public sex person, but if its within the confines of his home, he's on. probably likes the bedroom the most, but for spur of the moment quickies, he likes taking you against the kitchen counter or on the couch or even on the floor by the fireplace after a failed movie night.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

unfortunately, one of his most toxic traits is that arguments and fighting really get him going. if he ever feels threatened by someone else, he'll take it out of them depending on the severity, but then fucks you within an inch of your life, reminding you in a deep voice who you belong to. he's also the type of person to get really turned on seeing you disheveled, or even just with a messy bun and pajamas.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

could never be fully submissive. definitely wouldn't mind handing you some of the reins and letting your hands guide him where you want him, but don't expect him to get on his knees anytime soon and bend to your every will with a "yes ma'am." another turn off is probably being rude or dismissive to his children. like, if he heard that you had made taggie upset someway, he would lose a lot of attraction to you.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

is such a munch, good lord. loves getting so messy with it. isn't very calculated with his movements, but instead dives in passionately with his tongue flat. he comes up for air disheveled, mustache and lips glistening, then goes back in. if you allow him, he'd spend forever down there. as for receiving oral, he loves it. unfortunately though, he has to stop before he cums so he can keep going the rest of the night. he likes to hold your hair tight and control your pace, but will be receptive if you're uncomfortable or in pain.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

majority of the time, he's fast and rough. especially after an argument or while he's jealous. but he can be slow and sensual!! sometimes he's tired or had a bad day or just really really feeling love for you and he wants to take his sweet time unraveling you and showering you in as much love as he can. those moments are just more uncommon than him fucking you with as much passion as he can.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn't mind them, but they're not his favorite. he'd prefer to take his time with you, but sometimes the timing just isn't right and he needs you now. or maybe you're just looking too damn fine and you have the house all to yourself and he lifts you against the kitchen counter. his quickies are rough and needy and sinful. he's grunting as sweat beads along his brow. he finishes inside of you and when he has to go about the rest of the day, he just thinks about you going about your day with him still inside you. freak.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's down to try things out! like, if you're reading a particularly filthy romance novel and he manages to figure out what about it is enticing to you, he's so willing to try it out himself. there's only a few things that he'll immediately reject, but he loves making things fun in the bedroom for the two of you. honestly, though, he's kind of impatient and doesn't really like doing things by trial and error, so he usually looks into how to make certain things work before trying it for the first time. as for risks, he's down for some things. wouldn't particularly mind risky settings, but he is somewhat of a public personality so there a few things he'll deny if it gets too risky.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go for like two to three rounds before he's pretty spent. this number might be a lot bigger if he's one of those bouts where he's pouring himself into his work and doesn't get to devote as much time to his personal life. he can make himself last for a pretty long while. he just has to stop you before cumming because he can get to into the good feeling and before he realizes it, he's finished and now can't give as much of himself to you as he wants.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i think he's old fashioned in that the best tools are on his body already. i don't think he'd mind if you had a vibrator or something similar to use when he's not there, but he's not going to be reaching for it in the middle of sex. honestly, i feel like he'd see a vibrator as a competition and try to make you finish better than it can. fic idea?

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

i don't think he's that big of a tease tbh. at least not intentionally. if anything, he's more teasing in that his big palm rests on your thigh underneath the dining table and when he enters into some passionate conversation, he subconsciously grips it and you have to bite your lip to suppress your moan. or he's just looking soooo good in that venturer t-shirt talking to everyone and shaking hands and showing off his arms and he has no idea what he's doing to you.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's such a grunter. and he whispers little "fucks" under his breath. when he gets closer to finishing though, they start morphing into louder groans and when he cums in you, it's like one big crescendo that all comes crashing down. he lovesss hearing the noises he draws out of you though. encourages you to be loud and wants to hear how good he's making you feel.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

probably praises and compliments and talks about you to rupert and freddie all the time. they're all sitting around in a bar drinking and suddenly freddie is asking rupert about cameron and rupert is asking freddie about lizzie and they both turn to declan and ask about you. he gushes about you, then lowers his voice and talks about just how sexy and perfect and wonderful you are. he's got rather loose lips but he'll never reveal the private details. he just wants everyone to know that you are the most perfect person in the whole world and you're all his to enjoy.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's pretty thick. average length i think, but he makes up for it in the way that he stretches you out. it's a painful pleasure, one that makes you wince at his first entrance, but then makes you throw your head back, eyes rolled in pure bliss once he gets going.

y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

depends on his week, really! sometimes he's so focused on venturer or focused on his next interview that his brain capacity is filled. in times like those, he might need some extra encouragement in the form of you harmlessly flirting with rupert or presenting yourself to him in his study completely naked. if everything has leveled out and he's just having a good week, he could fuck you silly every single night.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

sometimes it can be within minutes if you've gone particularly hard. he falls off you, down to your side where he pulls you into his strong chest and holds you until he starts snoring. sometimes, he might enjoy running his hands along your body, tracing little shapes into them while you're turned on your side, cuddled close to his chest.

need him bad.

#declan o hara fic #declan o'hara smut #declan o’hara x reader #declan o’hara #declan o hara #rivals imagine #rivals fanfiction #rivals smut #rivals fic #rivals #aidan turner #rivals 2024 #declan o hara headcanons

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lcriedlastnight · 5 months ago

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Hi,

Ok so this is inspired by all the drama and gossip I’ve seen on Instagram recently.

Can you write something with Lando and Y/N where Lando has made it clear from the very start that he likes Y/N and wants to date her? Y/N likes him back but is hesitant to start a relationship because of his many female friends, the fact that he and his family still follow his ex-girlfriend on social media, and because he still wears the bracelet his ex-girlfriend gave him. And y/n isn’t comfortable nor is she the type of person who would date guys with so many girls around him. She doesn’t want to explicitly tell Lando her reasons (because she doesn’t want to tell him what to do and not to do) so she always gives subtle hints when he asks why she doesn’t want to date him. Lando never picks up on these hints until someone close to him points it out, and he finally realizes what Y/N has been trying to tell him. And from here you can continue however you want

anon the way this is sooo real. also the drama? idc about it but i absolutely love drama in any way so!

tw: fem!reader, swears, idk lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.9k

ever since you had first met lando he had made it very clear that he wanted a relationship with you and that he really did like you. the boy was all over you. he was constantly offering you take you out on dates when he was in the same place as you. he always wanted to be around you, giving you a call to come over and sit in his flat with him while he deep cleaned his kitchen. lando even told all of his friends about how much he liked you. oscar was sick fed up of hearing how pretty he thought your eyes were and max had told him that if he did not shut up about how infectious your laugh was he was going to leave him to sort out the details for the quadrant video for himself.

so it was safe to say that you had no reason to doubt that lando like you. you liked him too. you did not show it in the same ways as him though, you just being a tad more on the shyer side. your mind should have been convinced that lando only had eyes for you but it felt like you were adding two and two together to get five. his actions just did not make sense to your insecure mind.

the first 'red flag' you had stumbled across- well you did not even stumble across it. your friend did. and had told you it was one hundred percent a red flag and how were you to know any different? you were not experienced in this kind of thing, due to your shyness.

you had both been out for lunch and some shopping when you had just been chatting about lando and how things were going. she had asked why you guys had not done much more than two or three basic dates and you had responded that you were a little nervous to progress with him. she had questioned this and at that point you were not totally sure why you were feeling like that which had made you feel more guilty at the time. you had told her about one little thing that was niggling at the back of your brain since you had discovered it. all of lando's loved ones still followed his ex girlfriend on basically all socials and even liked her pictures regularly, this included lando. although lando had not liked a picture since they had been dating he still followed her.

"you are having a laugh?" she gasped at your words. the way she seemed shocked had made you a little nervous. were you wrong to be worried about it? were you not worried enough about it? it was moments like these that you thought you were not cut out for romantic relationships, it was much too hard these days. you wished for simpler times when if you liked someone you just told them and then you were dating.

"is that bad?" you had asked her, worriedly.

"i mean, it's kinda a red flag. why would he want to follow her? unless he was still close with her. he must be if his family still follow her. she must've been one of those girlfriends that the whole family falls in love with too." your friend explains as thoughts. you had thought that her explanation would have made you feel better but just like that you felt your mind shift into almost sure to doubt.

you knew your friend kind of had a point with what she had said but the rational part of you, deep deep down, was telling you that all of this was just causing unnecessary doubt to grow in your mind. it reminded of you of how lando acts towards you and it settled your mind for a minute or so before you fell down the hole again. you had always believed actions spoke louder than words but what actions spoke louder in this case?

from then you had fallen down a horrible spiral of pulling apart almost everything lando did. your mind always going back to that conversation in a cafe and reminding you of what your friend told you.

lando had invited you out as he had missed you a lot and of course you had said yes because as much as you were stressing yourself out about all of this, you did like him. you were just wary, that was all. it was not your scene at all, this house party. you did not know anyone there except lando and max. max was there alone as his girlfriend was not able to make it. you three sat with each other all night and max had gotten a front row seat into seeing exactly how lando was acting around you and vice versa.

all throughout the night, girls that lando was apparently 'friends' with had come up to him and blatantly flirted with him, right in front of your face, everyone here knew that he had brought you here with him as his date. so it confused you to no end how lando just sat back and let these girls flirt with him. it was literally textbook, basic flirting. finger twirling a piece of hair around as she giggled at something he said. even though it was not really that funny. and you just had to sit back and watch because what else were you supposed to do? you did not want to tell him how to live his life. if he wanted to be 'friends' with these girls then who were you to tell him he could not be? you guys were not even dating, for gods sake! even if you were you were definitely not one of those girls who told their boyfriends that they cannot even talk to another girl, never mind be friends with one.

once the fourth girl of the hour had left you all alone lando turns to you again.

"you're a wanted man tonight." you tell him, your voice tight as you tried not to be jealous. you felt stupid being jealous, was there anything to even be jealous over? lando laughs at your words and does not seem to notice your tone or even the expression clear as day on your face. you were too busy talking to lando to notice that max had notice everything you had tried to hide.

"guess i am." is all he says. it stuns you that that was all he said to you but you do not cause any drama about it. well you do not mean to. it just comes out, really. you just have to hope that he does not take it to heart.

"it's a lot of girls." it comes out like a half laugh half scoff. max thinks lando is incredibly dumb for not even noticing the reassurance you were clearly seeking right now. he set himself a metal note to slap him on the back of the head once they were alone.

lando barely even registers the words you say as he changes the subject and that is it forgotten about. you know it was not on purpose. he did not mean to just change the subject there and then when you had brought that up but it kind of did make sense and in your mind it went down as another red flag. it sat right next to the one your friend had pointed out a few weeks earlier.

you had left a little earlier than you had originally intended and as you were waving goodbye to both boys from inside the taxi, lando had ever so kindly booked and payed for you, you see max's hand come to slap the back of his friend's head. it made you laugh but you did not think too much about it. neither did lando apparently as he just hits max back ten times harder as he heads back inside.

the third and final 'red flag' came from when you were stalking instagram. you knew yourself you should not have been scrolling through the f1 gossip pages but you got curious about that curly-haired boy that took up your mind constantly. you do not have to scroll very far to get to something that upsets you. a picture of lando with a fan and a second one zoomed in on his arm, showcasing a lovely bracelet that you had seen lando wear many times. the caption? 'lando is still wearing the bracelet his ex got him!'.

you felt dumb again. you did not have to ask anyone if that was a 'red flag', you already knew. the next time you met up with lando after you had seen the instagram post you immediately noticed the piece of jewellery and it was so fucking hard to take your eyes off of it from then. somehow max had ended up on this outing too and just like always, he noticed your eyes glued to his arm. it did not take him long to put the pieces together. he knew there and then that he had to sit down and have a chat with him. as soon as he possibly could.

max had left to pop into a different shop as you and lando had waited outside together.

"so, can i ask why exactly you don't wanna date me?" lando asks bluntly, like he had been sitting on the question for a while.

you flush. "we've been on dates." you tell him, like he was not there and did not already know that.

"i know. but i get the feeling you don't wanna go further with me. it's alright if you don't but i'd like to know why?" lando asks, you can see the traces of hurt in his eyes as the mere thought of you not wanting him the same way he wanted you.

"no, i do. well i don't but i do. i like you, really like you. but i'm scared to go further with you."

lando looks at you confused, as if it was baffling to him to be scared to jump head first into something, especially when he keeps making you doubt if you were seriously even an option in his mind sometimes.

"why are you scared?" lando presses further but before you can respond max comes out with a bag in hand and asks if you can all stop for some food. the moment is gone and you are not too sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

after the outing was finished and max and lando were hanging out at lando's max finally decides to have the conversation with his friend. hoping that he will knock some sense into his seemingly senseless mate. lando beats him to it though.

"today while we were out, i asked her why she doesn't why doesn't wanna be with me and she said she was scared? she didn't get to tell me why." lando admits, his worry evident to his friend. max huffs at his friends obliviousness.

"she's scared because you're going around wearing shit your ex got you! doesn't help that your surrounded by girls flirting with you and you don't even shoot them down. and not getting any hints she drops? dude you're more stupid than i thought."

lando's brows rise as he lets max's words set in. he is completely shocked. he had not thought about any of this or about how it would effect you. he suddenly felt a rush of guilt wash through him. he needed to see you right now.

lando basically runs to you, leaves max at his flat and rushes over to yours. he needs to apologise as soon as he can. he needed you to know that you seriously are the one he wants the most.

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lotusarchon · 1 month ago

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macaque's successor (mk x reader)

content warnings: female reader, second pov (you/your), mild fluff and angst, season 1 events, isekai (reader dies from choking), foul language, macaque mentioned i guess, vague hints of manipulation/gaslighting from macaque, mk being a little shit, nsfw content, minors/ageless blogs dni, virginity loss,np in v sex, mild dubcon oral sex (fem receiving), public sex (reader + mk fuck in an alleyway), car sex (in the tuktuk), implied breeding kink, light bondage (the headband is a paid actor)

author's notes: requested from AO3. this literally hit 6k words so i'm gonna make it a series lmfao help

You remembered choking.

Honestly, it was an embarassing way to die, you won't deny it. How humiliating it was when people asked about your demise, anticipating a tragic if not heroic end. And usually, in the fanfics you read, that's how it always go!! Either someone dies by trying to save someone else, or by fucking suicide!! Not this!!! Not by choking on a dumpling while watching the fifth season of your favorite show; Lego Monkie Kid!!

Gods, how embarassing. Even when waking up, the memory of the dumpling stuck in your throat while you flailed wildly, surprised when the plot twist was revealed with the snake villain…gah! Just end you now!

Wait no. You died once. If you died twice again, that would be way worst.

Ah well. You couldn't say you were too disappointed. Though you missed a few things from your old life, your life was just…too boring. You didn't have much friends, your parents were emotionally distant and well, aside from your job, there really wasn't much to your current life. You felt too much like a burden to your parents, so maybe…you could free them of the worries of an unmarried, boring child.

You considered your ‘isekai’ moment as some sort of new start. Your chance to better your life! You didn't anticipate to be a part of anything major, not with your boring self, but the scenery in the Lego Monkie Kid universe wasn't so bad, and surprisingly the people seem nice. Perks of being a children's show, you guessed.

When you had first woken up, lying on the sand of some beach, you were both pleasantly surprised and concerned. It took a few minutes for you to process that you hadn't ended up in some weird coma because you choked to death and that you had, somehow, in some weird fucking way, woken up in the lego world. How did you realize that?

If the lego hands weren't enough of an answer, the green and white blur of a certain female character driving past should've been.

You were fucking isekai’d.

And then you fainted from shock.

When you woke up again, you were lying on a military cot, a thin blanket thrown over your form. There was sunlight from a window to the wall opposite of you, and the sound of clapping and cheering.

While you sat there contemplating your situation, and wondering if you were about to be canon fodder to some demon within the show, a door you hadn't been aware of opened and closed shut. A man wearing a thick black and red robe was standing in front of you. And come on, you're no fool―there was no way in hell you wouldn't know who this particular figure was. You'd have to be pretty stupid not to have recognized his dramatic robes from the second season.

Which reminded you. Where exactly had you fallen in the timeline, if Macaque found you and most possibly brought you to his weird theatre?

“You got a name, kid?” His gruff voice questioned, pulling the hood of his head to glance at you. In his hands was a tray, a simple meal of rice porridge and cut fruits. You accepted the tray awkwardly, wondering if the food would be edible if this was pre-s4/5 Macaque.

“Um. My name is (Name).” You smiled at the monkey demon awkwardly. “And…um…w-who might you be?”

“Macaque. The Six Eared Macaque.” He took a seat on a discarded chair, sharp fangs glinting in what little light it had. “(Name), huh? Well, I found you before you died from a cold, (Name). You were stranded on a beach not far from here.”

Right…that you already figured out.

“I hope you don't mind me asking. Do you have any family or friends to run home too?”

You thought for a moment. You didn't die and end up in any existing character already…..so as far as you knew, you were completely alone in this strange new world. The realization finally dawned on you that though it was a joyous feeling, being in your favorite show, interacting with nice people, there was no way you'd be able to survive. You were human for all you knew too, just some person living in a world with magic, demons and the occasional deity.

“No.�� You signed, stirring the porridge. “I'm..alone.”

“You have no one?” Macaque repeated. “No one to turn too for help? Surely, your parents…friends…?”

You shook your head again.

There was a moment of awkward silence. You continued to stir the porridge awkwardly while Macaque possibly thought to himself.

“Alright.” Macaque stood. “It'd be cruel of me to leave someone as young as you to wander off on your own.” You tensed when he walked in your direction, but surprisingly, all he did was gently pat your head. “I'll offer you a deal, kid, since you're already in my debt.”

Please don't ask me to sell my soul.

“Wasn't planning on it.” Ah, you spoke out loud. “Be my apprentice. I'll feed and clothe you and in turn you train under me and help around the theatre here. It'll be a…mutually beneficial relationship.”

Well. You didn't have much of a choice now, did you?

After a moment of thinking, you nodded. There was nothing less to be done than to accept your fate. And hey, as cliche as it was, maybe you can turn Macaque over! Act like the MK to his Sun Wukong, you know?

And that was a lie.

Macaque was not a kind teacher. As the agreement followed, he did feed and clothe you. Hell, you swore he was even giving you your own salary helping him out with the theatre, either cleaning up or sending posters or dealing with guests. He wasn't so bad, that was, outside of training. During training, though, he was an entirely different person.

The first week, he was horrible. You swore you couldn't even repeat the degrading words he had said, every detail embedded in your head. Scolding you for being weak, to put more effort if you truly wanted to learn and be strong. That being weak was for those that were already dead.

It was difficult to think he was an entirely different person outside of training. Usually he would chat or show you things he's made, like puppets or dolls. If he was in a good mood, he'd even put on a puppet show for you, and you'd get to see his ‘The Hero And The Warrior’ tale up close and in person. But, if he was in a bad mood, you were lucky to get a simple grunt before he ignored you.

Between that and when you were alone, you got to explore more of your new world. You found out that his theatre was to the end of the city, so a lot of people would have to travel often to see his plays. After getting lost a few times and finally getting a map you could properly read, you found Pigsy's noodles and decided to pay it a visit.

What was the worst that could possibly happen? And anyways, you were both bored and curious to know where exactly you were in the storyline. Since you were supposed to be Macaque's apprentice now, surely that meant you'd most likely be involved now in the main story, right?

“I keep telling ya MK, you rarely ever focus!”

Ah, that should be an obvious enough an answer. There was an entire episode dedicated to MK's focusing. Erm, episode…6, was it? No, that was the racing episode.

Episode 7, maybe? Ah, yeah, that had to be it.

You dared to peek your head inside, catching sight of the protagonist and his father figure speaking to each other. Or, more like MK was clinging to his dad's leg while Pigsy scolded him with threats of firing him.

Ah, typical Monkie Kid moment. It felt so unreal to be here in person, watching them.

And then MK ran into you. Had you been that dazed out you completely missed him running until he ran smack into you, spilling noodles on the front of your shirt?

“Gah! Are you okay!?” MK spluttered, his eyes wide with panic. “Oh, shit―” Wait, was that normal? Wasn't this a kid's show? Why the fuck― “Fuck, uh.”

“Kid?” Pigsy's voice was heard behind him. “What's the keep u―oh, damn it MK.”

Huh? This is a kid's show! Why are they swearing!?

“I'm sorry!!” MK was whining. You felt his hands on your chest, dabbing away with swabs of paper napkins he must've grabbed from the counter. “Sorry, sorry!!! I'm so sorry, I just―aah!!”

You were to dumbstruck to even question the fact he was so blatantly touching your chest. Not when you were more concerned about the fact they cursed. This was a children's show. Why the fuck were they cursing!? Were they always cursing and it was just obscured because of the children audience it was aimed for!? Huh?!

“Kid, I think you've made it worst.” Pigsy's gruff voice brought you back to reality. You smiled nervously as MK pulled his hands away, wringing them anxiously from the stain he just left behind.

“I'm sorry!!” MK pursed his lips. Though he was never a favorite of yours, you had to admit up close he was kind of cute in the basic anime protagonist way. You wondered what would happen if you pinched his cheeks a bit. Would it be soft to touch? “I-I’ll um, I'll make it up to you! Promise!”

Oh. Right, he spilled noodles on your shirt.

You shook your head, waving off his worry. “No need too. It's fine, it was my fault anyway.” Technically you weren't wrong. You weren't paying attention, and how was MK supposed to know someone was kinda attempting to spy on him. “But uh….” You glanced at the sticky wet stain. “I don't suppose you have anything I can borrow…?”

MK perked up. He looked pleased you weren't yelling at him, nor demanding some form of payment that would probably give Pigsy a heart attack. He nodded quickly, fluffy brown hair growing even messier from his actions. Holy shit, was it as soft as it looked? Would it feel nice??

“I've got a spare shirt upstairs!” He exclaimed, once again interrupting your thoughts. “My friend leaves her clothes behind, there should be one that fits you! Gimme a sec―”

Oh, he was gone. You were going to tell him not to bother, it'd be too weird wearing his best friend's shirt….

Waiting in awkward silence, you glanced at Pigsy, who had crossed his arms opposite of you. He raised his head and caught your gaze, making you look away.

“You must be new around these parts,” the pig demon remarked, causing you to stiffen. “I don't think I recognize ya, kid. Got a name?”

Er….well.

“(Name).” It'd be pointless to lie about yourself. And anyway, if you chose the name of a character that was probably already in the series, it'd make one hell of a scenario. Too embarassing anyway. “Umm. You must be Pigsy, the owner of this er…fine establishment?”

The pig demon snorted, “As if the name isn't obvious enough.” You flinched, anticipating him to be rude, but who knew he was merely being sarcastic and teasing you. He shook his head at your expression, chuckling, “I'm pulling ya’ leg kid. Yeah, that's me. What brings ya’ here anyway?”

Before you could respond, the sound of someone falling down a flight of stairs, and a certain noodle boy reappeared with a clean, green and white T-shirt in his hands. He smiled bashfully, apologizing for his absence and shoved the cloth into your hands abruptly.

“So you won't have to wear a dirty one!” He exclaimed with his signature grin. “And my apology! It should be closer to your size…I think….”

The noodle boy trailed off, staring at your chest for a moment. You followed his gaze and blinked.

“I…eh?”

Instead of blushing like he was caught in the act, MK scratched his chin thoughtfully. He didn't come off as a pervert to you, merely concerned and almost confused.

“Kid. Ya staring too much.”

“Oh.” MK blinked. “Oh, my bad! Sorry, I just didn't know if you'd be comfortable wearing anything too small. If it doesn't fit, do you want mine?”

You knew he meant well, but you did feel slightly offended. You weren't that big, were you?

“Kid.” Pigsy sounded mildly exhausted. It seemed like it wasn't the first time the noodle boy had been a bit too blunt with his words. “I think ya should stop talking.”

“I didn't say anything bad this time!! Did I?!”

You and Pigsy exchanged a mutual stare, shaking your heads at the remark. He gestured towards the customer bathrooms for you to change, but when you returned MK had long since left for his job and typical adventure of the week. As a form of apology, Pigsy gave you a free bowl of noodles and invited you to return at any point for your cleaned shirt, which he insisted you leave behind for MK to wash.

You weren't sure if Macaque was pleased when you explained where you had gotten the noodles, or disappointed. By his tone and appearance, he didn't seem offended. If anything he seemed quite satisfied with your remark while you split your noodles with him, and he remarked, strangely, “That MK's a good kid. You can befriend him if you want.”

You paused mid-swallow, unsure of what to say. Macaque chuckled at your expression and patted your head.

“It's fine,” he said with a grin. “Just ‘cause I hate his mentor, doesn't mean I'll stop you from having friends of your own.” He stole a piece of meat from you. “Just as long as you don't pull a bitch move and abandon your mentor. I'd feel so heartbroken, y'know?”

There was something about his tone, that brief sarcastic comment paired with his saccharine smile that made you flinch. Still, you nodded, assuring him that you'd never abandon him.

It's not like you had anyone else anyway.

An unlikely friendship formed between you and the hero.

You returned to the noodle shop once your training with Macaque was completed, hoping to return Mei's shirt and retrieve your original one. Pigsy greeted you at the door, offering you to take a seat while MK returned from another one of his monster of the week adventures. Pigsy wasn't so bad, though you were surprised to see Tang absent. Then again, maybe the scholar was just busy―he didn't appear in every episode after all.

“Oh, Piggy! Tangy is dea―” Mei was the first to barge into the noodle shop, her eyes wide. Seeing her up close and in person, you were practically shocked at how pretty she was. You thought the Mei fans had been exaggerating, but no. The dragon girl was just as pretty if not more, and when she flashed you a grin you swore you might be a little bit queer. “Whoa! Cute girl!”

“Mei, what the hell?” You still couldn't get used to them swearing. Pigsy threw a spoon at the dragon girl, which she managed to duck. Unfortunately, the person behind her, MK, was the victim of the spoon, and he collapsed with a cry. “Just ignore her, she's always weird.”

You smiled, nodding while Mei protested against the comment. She took a seat on the stool next to you, offering her hand.

“Oh! You're the girl MK was telling me about!” Mei exclaimed as you introduced yourself. You were surprised MK would even bother speaking about you, who was pretty much an NPC at this point, but at the same time, being noticed by the protagonist was a pleasant feeling, wasn't it? “Did my shirt fit you or was your boobies to big?”

You heard MK choke at the remark, and when you glanced at him he looked ashamed.

“I didn't say that,” he quickly defended, throwing himself at Mei to stop her from sharing any more embarassing comments. “I-I just said that the shirt was too small!! I swear!! I didn't mean anything like that!!”

You smiled awkwardly. “It's fine. I'm sure it was an accident.”

The dragon girl merely sighed. You didn't miss the look she flashed at her friend, and as if they had some sort of telepathic ability, MK returned her look with his own. You were in awe at their silence conversation, and you had no problem merely observing them like animals in a zoo.

Ah, wait…there are animals here…oops.

“Sure. Accident.” Mei scoffed under her breath, turning her attention back to you. “Soooo~ cute gal. Did I tell you how cute you were?”

Basically. “You mentioned it, yes.”

“Good. ‘Cause you are.” The dragon girl pinched your cheek. The action made you wince, reminiscent of how Macaque tended to be, always pinching your face on occasion, but Mei's hands were gentler and less likely to make you tear up. She released your cheek after a while, arm still slung around your shoulders while she continued on, “(Name), (Name)...huh. You know, I actually don't think I've ever met you either.”

Without thinking, you sighed in relief. For what it was worth, you were still feeling jittery at the idea of being recognized by someone. After all, who's not to say you hadn't just ended up in a random NPC’s body that just happened to resemble you? The universe worked in mysterious ways, and you'd really not want that chance of being recognized. Even if it wouldn't be a major problem plot-wise, you'd rather not have to deal with the nagging feeling you were in someone else's body.

So, hearing one of the most sociable characters in the show admit to never meeting you before made you all the more relieved. If you could clap your hands, you really would at that moment.

MK had taken a seat on the opposite side of you, leaving you trapped between him and his best friend.

It…was a bit odd, you wouldn't lie. There was an empty seat next to Mei, so why choose to sit next to you of all places? Wouldn't it be easier to sit with his friend?

“Oh, yeah. I don't think you mentioned where you're from?” Pigsy had long since left for the kitchen, so you knew that question had been from MK. It was cute that Pigsy had chosen to mention something trivial you said to his kid, but you'd also hate having to be asked and make up a lie on the spot.

You thought for a moment, then nodded. “I didn't think it was important. My family moved here for some business stuff.”

Mei seemed to perk up at that. “Oh, you're a foreigner? That's so cool! Where are you from!?”

“Um….”

“Right. Right.” The dragon girl relaxed, her lips parted in a laugh. She waved off your nervous expression, “Sorry ‘bout that. Didn't mean to pry. But that's pretty cool.”

“It definitely is.” MK grinned next to you. “Traveling around like that sounds fun. How do you like the city so far? Have you seen the cheese tea stalls?”

They're actually called cheese tea stalls!? You sweatdropped, trying to imagine what tea would taste like with actual cheese in it. The combination in your head made you mentally gag, but with a smile on your face you merely nodded. Macaque had taught you well, even if not directly, so you'd consider yourself a pro at masking your feelings.

“Ah.” Was it just you, or did MK sound disappointed at that?

And yet, not only a few seconds later, his expression had brightened once again.

You spent at least three hours at the noodle shop, listening to MK and Mei ask you questions and share the wildest stories.

For some reason, MK always seemed to look for your opinion on something. You put it off as merely him hoping to impress a new friend he's made, as a newly turned hero.

You sat with Macaque once again for dinner.

Almost half a year had passed since you had arrived in this new world. Surprisingly, an unlikely friendship had formed between yourself and the dragon girl and monkey boy duo.

You didn't think something like that would've happened in over a million years. Someone like you, befriending people as fun and kind as Mei and MK? You'd have to either be high or dreaming.

But, you didn't mind it either way. They were fun to be around, and more often than not, they'd invite you on their hangouts. Especially that MK, who was always ready to pull you into an adventure with him.

You had to admit, you've grown quite fond of him over the past few months.

And as for Macaque…

You glanced at the simian. Though you'd like to think you two had grown closer, there was still a barrier that kept you at arms length. At this point, you assumed Wukong's supposed betrayal was still fresh on his mind after all these years, and so even if he was nicer to you, he never once actually attempted to draw you closer.

So disappointing…

You chewed on your chopsticks thoughtfully.

Over time, you've tried not to interfere with the canon plot too much. So, even when that particular episode regarding the key to unlocking the Bone Demon's tomb happened (cough, s1 episode 8), you didn't intervene. You didn't warn MK that he was toying with the very object that would change his life forever, nor did you warn him about the creepy Mayor guy.

Speaking of him…there's something really off-putting about that guy. It's like he knows something I don't. You frowned to yourself, recalling that particular interaction. Though you didn't do much, the Mayor had still been watching you.

“It would be my deepest pleasure to meet little miss once again,” he had said, oddly charming in a particularly creepy way. “So until we next meet, farewell~!”

Agh, whatever. It was canon he was total nutcase anyway, you shouldn't be worried about that.

What you were worried about though, was the episode where Macaque would meet MK. As much as you loved him as your favorite character, you couldn't deny that he had as much of a role to MK's trauma as the other villains did.

And with how fond you were of MK currently, you had to admit; hurting him just to spite Wukong was genuinely too far. When all was said and done, hating your ex best friend was fine, but there was no need to pull innocent people into the crossfire. MK might not have dwelled on it anymore, but the interactions he had with Macaque and later on Azure…it definitely fucked him up, didn't it?

Sigh. Though you knew this had to happen for plot's sake, you really wished it didn't have to happen. You didn't think you could bare to witness this scene upclose and in person, so you wondered if you should take Mei on that offer to leave the city for a few days…

“So, you and that MK boy are close now, hm?” When you raised your head, Macaque caught your gaze and grinned. He was sipping from a can of fizzy drink, something you'd never expect from him of all people, and occasionally would glance at you. He raised a brow, “You turned into a beaver, kid? You're chewing those chopsticks for so long.”

Embarrassed, you pulled the chopsticks out of your mouth. The ends were covered in your spit and bite marks, and you cried in your heart at the damage. How embarassing…

“Um. Yeah. Guess we are now.” You shoveled cold noodles into your mouth again, hiding your embarrassment. Until you choked and had to take a break, coughing and chewing soggy noodles.

Macaque slid a can to you, already opened. You accepted it with a nod, relieved at the sugary taste that freed your clogged throat.

He was speaking again. “I've been thinking. The kid looks like he needs some extra training, you know? I mean, looking at his fighting moves….something tells me that teacher of his hasn't been doing jackshit for him. Just shoved a big staff into his hands and told him to go crazy.”

If you didn't know Macaque's character in season one, you would've thought he was genuinely concerned. Though his words were criticism at Wukong, there was no warmth or genuinity in them, only a type of bluntness intended to hit home.

You stared at your can thoughtfully. Would he ask you to help him manipulate MK? Would you have to lie to him?

“Hey. Have you ever taken a break since you became my apprentice?” Macaque threw his empty can into a wastebasket, yet his gaze was still on you.

You blinked. You hadn't taken a break since you joined this world, and that been well over six months now.

Where was he going with this?

“I think you deserve a break,” he concluded and leaned back against his chair. “Spend a few weeks outside the city. It'd do you some good. I'll arrange some things for you, ‘kay? Maybe even hook you up with one of my pals to continue your training.”

Oh. Macaque hadn't sent you out of the city with good intentions. He'd sent you so you wouldn't be a hindrance to his plans―you liked MK, that much he knew. His six ears could pick up on the way you brightened around the kid, and he was well aware of the signs of affection. You adored him as he did you, but you were too stubborn to admit it.

Sure, there were some things about you that confused him. He couldn't hear anything from your past, as if it were a blank slate. No childhood, no recollection of a time before you came across him. It was if something was purposely stopping him from hearing beyond that first meeting between you both.

But to Macaque, that was fine. A hindrance, but fine. He would work with it.

As long as you weren't there to warn MK, to push him away from Macaque. As long as you weren't there to disrupt the natural flow of fate.

Macaque boredly nudged the fallen hero's face, a malicious smile on his lips. How the mighty had fallen, just a child with a heavy stick. And where was his mentor now?

“You know, it's a shame my student likes you so much,” he said, almost mockingly, and grabbed MK's chin. The little bastard tried to glare, his body weak from the sudden withdrawal of power within him. Good. “You know, she likes you so much. Thinks you're such a cool guy.”

MK's eyes seemed to narrow. His interest was piqued.

Good.

“(Name)...ah yes. She likes you so much, you know? Even told me not to go too hard on you and your fragile heart.” Macaque's smile merely widened. The longer he yapped some nonsense, the more this naive little hero bought into it.

Ah, that would be the death of him. What a foolish child, helplessly ready to believe what words were spoken. That would never do him any good.

Not that Macaque cared. Watching that look of betrayal flash across his face, the fight he had left fading…

Even when Wukong had stepped in, and he had suffered a bitter defeat, Macaque thought it had all been worth it.

You knew something was wrong the moment you returned to the city.

Maybe the plot had gone wrong. Maybe Macaque didn't betray MK because you had been his student? Maybe MK hadn't fallen fool to Macaque's charming words?

….

The city was fine. MK was fine.

When you stopped at the noodle shop, you were wholly surprised to see MK there. Aside from a bandage wrapped around his neck, he was fine. Laughing with his best friend, bothering Pigsy.

He was fine.

“Oh! (Name)!” Mei leaned over the counter, waving at you excitedly. You flinched at the attention, sparing the noodle boy a glance.

The smile he had been wearing fell. He wasn't looking at you with the same gentleness he had just only three weeks ago. Now, he looked wary, and upset.

Your blood felt cold in your veins.

Had Macaque done something?

“Hello? Earth to (Name)?” Mei gently racked her knuckles against your head. “Girl, you okay there? Did that three week vacay turn your brain into jelly?”

You tore your gaze away from MK.

Whatever it was Macaque had done, you needed to fix it.

At least, to explain yourself…

And surely, MK would listen to you…right?

MK's staff felt heavy against your chest. You knew this staff had once been a pillar in the dragon king's palace, but holy shit the show did not put enough emphasis on how heavy this staff was. The baddies that had to face the opposite end either had more plot armor than the protagonist, or fucking balls of steel.

Mind you, this was MK only allowing you to feel a quarter of it's actual weight. You figured he wasn't mad enough to crush you under it, given that he was still holding the staff above you with a conflicted expression.

You hadn't anticipated he would've followed you back to Macaque's dojo, which had long since been abandoned from his defeat. You hadn't anticipated he would've attacked you, if only to test something…

“He was right,” he muttered, caging you against the wall at the back of the building. “You…you're his student?”

Was, you thought, recalling the shadow powers you'd used to escape him. Now though…

“MK, I―”

“No. Don't you even.” You snapped your mouth shut at his remark. His eyes were glazed over, and you swore if he blinked, he would actually cry. As it stood, he merely glared at you, his expression flitting from angry, to upset, to hurt, and repeated the cycle. “You…you fucking lied. You…you were just pretending to be my friend!?”

You stayed silent.

MK laughed in disbelief.

“You won't even try. You…why?” The weight on your chest was lifted. MK's staff disappeared, but he still kept you caged between his arms, his shoulders sagging. “Why do this? Pretend to be my friend? Made me like you―” Your heart broke at the way his voice cracked. “You…you just…you lied. You lied and said I was your friend. Lied and pretended to be my friend, pretended to like me in turn, only for it to be all an act?? Why? What could Macaque have offered for you…to…to do this!?”

You heard him sniffle. “Fuck. You won't even defend yourself. Won't you lie and tell me I'm wrong?”

“But you are.”

MK raised his head.

Oh, you hated this. He looked so heartbroken. The tears had spilled, staining his cheeks. He looked so sad, and you hated this. You hated seeing him cry like this.

“I…never lied to you,” you mumbled, looking at your feet. “I did. Like being your friend. I liked…being with you. I never…I never wanted to hurt you, MK. I swear. I've always liked you. I wanted to be your friend, I liked you.”

But Macaque…

“I didn't know what Macaque was planning.” A lie. “But I never intended to hurt you, MK. You can hate me for what Macaque did, but I never wanted you to get hurt.” At least, not to this extent….

You raised your head to see MK still staring at you. His eyes wide in shock (hopefully not horror), and he looked…confused.

You never really noticed how cute he looked, all confused and lost. You wanted to pinch his cheeks.

So you did. You reached up, and squeezed his cheek between your hands. MK didn't stop you, too surprised, and you took advantage of it―squeezing and smushing, watching how red they became from your actions.

I don't like it when you cry. I really don't. If this is how hurt you are, I'll never do it again. I'll never let you cry again.

MK's hands grabbed your wrists. You stilled, expecting him to be angry, but he only pinned your hands to the wall.

“Prove it.”

“Huh?”

MK pursed his lips. The corners of his eyes were still red from crying, and his gaze had darted from your eyes, and then lower.

“You…you have to prove that you mean it,” he said, finally. “That…that Macaque was lying. You have to prove you're telling the truth.”

MK, aren't you sounding like a child right now?

You paused, but nodded. “I don't mind. But how am I supposed to prove that?”

MK stared at you so hard and for so long, you had to look away with shame. Why did it feel like he was implying something here…?

A hand cupped your boobs. You blinked when MK gave it a light squeeze.

….. ISN'T THIS SHOW RATED FOR KIDS!? WHAT THE FUCK!?

Note to future self: fucking in alleyways are very unhygienic and also just uncomfortable in general.

Other note to future self: you somehow gave Qi fucking Xiaotian a boob kink.

No, you weren't joking. MK had looked at you so pleadingly and helplessly that of course, you had to yield to his request. You liked him, he liked you, and if this meant he would trust you again and mend the bond Macaque had broken, then so be it. You'd fuck in one thousand alleyways if it meant MK would trust you again.

You just really hoped you wouldn't have too, though. Alleyways were weird.

And, you figured not to question this situation.

You ran your hands through MK's hair, sitting atop the tuktuk MK had parked in the same alleyway. Though you itched to pull his bandanna off, you decided not to. If only because when you had tried before, MK had looked at you with heartbroken eyes, and you didn't like seeing him upset.

His hand slid down the front of your pants, pushing your panties to the side. Your body tensed, and you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth when his fingers rubbed against your folds, following the same rhythm as his hand occupied with your breast.

Look. You were a total loser in your old life, okay? And in this one, you never bothered with dating.

So, of course, you're a total fucking virgin. The closest experience you had with anything porn related was fanfiction, and everyone knows fanfiction is never realistic!!

So, of course, you were embarrassed and completely tense, even when MK assured you not to be.

A fucking cartoon character is more experienced than me. A. Fucking. CHILDREN'S SHOW MAIN CHARACTER. HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL!? You cried in your heart, but flashed MK an awkward smile nonetheless. He grinned at you, before his lips latched onto your nipple he'd been teasing. At the same time, his fingers had found your hole dripping with anticipation, gently pushing a finger inside.

Fanfiction did not prepare you for any of this. You thought you would faint from actually experiencing this the first time….agh…

MK's tongue was wet against your tit. He squeezed and fondled the soft flesh, dragging his tongue against your perked bud with leisure. His other hand gently pumped through your walls, slow, at first, until he added a second finger, and the base of his palm pressed against your clit.

Ugh, this was awkward. You slapped a hand over your mouth, hiding your embarassing fucking noises, and hopefully your own burning expression.

Oh god, what if I get sent back home? The fuck am I gonna tell my parents!? “Hey Mom and Dad, I lost my virginity to a fucking fictional character, no big deal!” Bah!!

Sharp teeth grazed against your tender bud, and the slight burning sensation from MK's fingers inside your cunt gave way to the slightest bit of pleasure, slick easing his movements. You felt yourself squirming against his hand, unsure if you wanted to pull away when his fingers curled against a spot that made you dizzy, or push into him for more.

The noodle boy released your tit with a wet pop, saliva connecting his lips to your breast. If it had been in any other situation, you wouldn't have mind to say it was borderline lewd, but this was real and it involved you, so naturally, you looked away in embarrassment. You heard MK laughing at your reaction, his palm applying pressure to your puffy clit, seeming to find your jolts and muffled whines amusing.

His free hand tugged on your pants, pulling them lower to your ankles. He settled himself lower between your legs, and your panties were pushed higher and his head lower.

You stiffened when his warm breath brushed against your cunt, your fingers still pumping in your hole.

“...hey, wait a sec―” Your hands landed on his head. “Aren't we…I mean you're…we really shouldn't―”

MK pouted, swatting your hand away. “I thought you said you wanted to prove yourself?”

You sneaky little bastard. “Not to this extent!”

“(Name), you're fine.” As if he to prove his point, his tongue swiped leisurely against your folds. You stiffened, feeling your face grow so fucking hot―was that a fucking piercing!? “Don't be scared. Or embarrassed if you're a virgin. I'll take good care of you.”

My brother in Christ you are a fucking lego character I'm more concerned on how either of us has the body part for thi―

MK's lips latched onto your puffy clit, sucking on the tender bundle of nerves. His hand gripped your thighs, holding you close while his fingers quickened and thrusted into your cunt, pressing against the soft spot that left your knees completely weak.

You didn't want to make any noise. You really didn't!

But when MK's tongue flicked your clit, the cold piercing a stark contrast against the warmth, and his mouth worked in rhythm with his fingers…

It wasn't your fault those noises slipped out. You mewled and pushed against him, gasping at the sensation.

You'd question how the fuck MK had a tongue piercing and experience in sex after you were finished.

If you remembered, that was.

MK's fingers suddenly pulled out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing. His tongued dragged languidly against your messy folds before he pulled away, your juices dribbling down his chin. He kept eye contact with you, propping his fingers between his lips to lick them clean…

Wtf…

“Okay! I think that's enough!” MK sat up abruptly and helped pulled off the rest of your clothing. You spluttered, trying to argue because of the very fun fact of you both being in public still, but apparently, the fucking Monkie Kid had no sense of shame or dignity. He simply flipped you onto your stomach, and your hands pulled behind your back and then tied with something…

Wait. “...did you just tie my wrists with your bandanna?”

“Yuh huh.” Gods, how could he sound so innocent after eating you out? “It's hot. I've always imagined tying you up with it, you know?”

You made a face at that. Did I also give him a bondage kink? Oh boy…

MK's chest pressed against yours, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek when he pushed himself inside you, causing you to burrow your face against the seats.

Fuck. I'm losing my fucking virginity to a cartoon character. Oh, isn't that fan-fucking-tastic. And he's fucking big, what the actual fuck. Why is he big? How does he even have a dick?? He's a LEGO.

Oh wait, this doesn't hurt that badly. Fucking fanfiction ass logic.

“(Name)?” You heard MK's voice filled with concern. “Do you want me to move? Or stop? We can stop―”

If your hands weren't tied behind your back, you knew for a fact you would be strangling him. There was no fucking way he got you into this situation only to fucking pussy out because of concern. You might be a virgin but you're no coward.

Probably.

“You can move.” You grumbled against your better judgement. “Just…be gentle.”

“I am gentle.” MK laughed in your ear. His lips pressed into another kiss against your temple, and his hips slowly rocked against yours, allowing you to adjust to the feeling. He pulled back slightly, just enough to snap his hips back in place in a slow thrust.

The first thing you thought was, Wow, this is weird.

Then you also thought, This really doesn't hurt as much as it should…

Maybe you were just weird, but MK huffing and moaning in your ear was…kinda hot, you wouldn't lie. Those whimper edit audios were tame in comparison to the noises he was making right now.

With your hands behind your back and tied, you couldn't do much but squirm in place with each of his thrusts. His hand pushed your head further against the leather seats, bottoming out fully against you. The wet sounds of his cock inside you filled the night air, and you had to muffle your own noises for your own dignity.

MK's pace quickly picked up speed, taking your muffled cried as a sign to keep going. His pelvis smacked against your ass, his cock stretching your walls and hitting angles you weren't even aware of and leaving you to drool against the seats of his tuktuk.

“You…you better promise not to leave me,” you heard MK mumble against you. “You can't leave me, okay? ‘cause you promised―” His cock kissed your cervix, making your toes curl and your pussy clench around him. “And you…you would keep your promises, right?”

You really needed your hands untied. “I do,” you promised, fighting back another moan. “‘promise not to make you cry again, ‘kay? Pinkie promi..mmph!”

MK angled your head back, slamming his lips against yours. His teeth grazed at your lower lip and sucked at your tongue, swallowing your cry when the strange feeling in your stomach snapped, cumming under his cock. His hips continued to snap against yours, each thrust feverish and driving you mad with stimulation.

It wasn't until MK had finally cum, collapsing on top of you on the seat, did he pull away from the kiss, and your brain return to normal.

How sticky…and your arms were beginning to ache from this position. You tried to turn on your side, but MK simply wrapped his arms around you and grumbled under his breath.

“Are you planning on leaving me again?” He asked, and you could practically hear the pout in his voice. How the fuck was he acting like the deflowered maiden here, when the one who just lost their virginity was you!?

“I…no.” You sighed, squirming in his hold. “My hands hurt though, so lemme go.”

“No.”

“....MK…”

“In a minute.”

“MK you came inside.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Fuck you mean oh yeah you tryna knock me up?”

“....”

“Oh my god I gave him a breeding kink too.”

“A what?”

“Nothing.”

138 notes · View notes

rempewiththetempe · 5 months ago

Text

Is This Off The Record? — Quinn Hughes⁴³

Chapter Two

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n interviews Quinn and it doesn’t exactly go as planned.

Warnings: use of y/n, cursing

w/c: 3,087

a/n: I wrote this literally right after getting over Covid so it’s slightly rushed but the next chapter should be better.

“Can you answer some questions for me?” You asked, trying to show the same confidence level that the woman before you had shown, a very fake smile plastered on your face. If the fake smile didn’t give you away, then your words did. Your tone was shaky and it was easy to tell you were barely even comfortable in your own skin.

You watched as Quinn looked at you for a moment. You weren't exactly super fond of the way he was looking at you. He looked as if he was trying to appear in thought, not like he was actually trying to think over your question. You didn’t like his little power move. You wanted an answer, not whatever the fuck it was that he was currently giving you. After a moment, he finally spoke and you were grateful that the awkward silence was over.

“Why not?” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. You hated how nonchalant he appeared. It pissed you off beyond reason.

You sighed, bracing yourself for the short interview that was to come. Usually, it was the interviewees mentally preparing for these things, and you were sure Quinn was doing it too, but you had to make sure to ready yourself before questioning the mystery of a man in front of you.

“I understand you’ve never really served a leadership role, besides being an alternate captain for Team USA and an alternate captain here last year, before being named Captain of the Canucks. Could you comment on that?” You asked with a hint of shakiness in your voice. You didn’t mean to start with a loaded question, but it was the first thing that came to your mind, and you didn’t want to just sit in silence while you thought of a different question.

Quinn looked visibly offended by your question. You immediately wanted to retreat into some sort of safe space when you noticed that. You hadn’t meant to offend him, you were only trying to do your job. You hoped he understood that.

“I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what you mean by that,” Quinn spoke up and said after a calculated silence, his face contorted in offended confusion. You guessed by his response that your question hadn’t quite been worded correctly.

“I just mean that-” You started quickly, not giving yourself any time to think about what you were saying, just wanting to clear up the situation quickly. “You know-” You stuttered out a final time before deciding to take a quick breath and collect your thoughts before continuing. Breathe.

“What I meant to say was, do you think that this leadership role will be a lot to take on, or are you more of a natural leader?” You said, your thoughts collected as much as they were going to be.

Quinn nodded with something close to understanding cast on his features. He sucked in a breath at your question and he sounded almost annoyed. You supposed you couldn’t exactly blame him for it, you’d be more than annoyed if you had to deal with shit like this often, but it still pissed you off a little.

You looked over at J.T. briefly, silently begging him to come back over and ease the tension. You knew he couldn’t. He simply glanced at you with a sympathetic smile from where he stood across the room. You returned the smile, breathing deeply before turning back to Quinn.

When you turned back to Quinn, he almost looked angry. No, angry wasn’t the word. Irritated, agitated, etc. Those words worked but those weren’t exactly what his face conveyed. It was something else.

Quinn had glanced over to J.T. as well, a pleading look in his eyes, but for slightly different reasons. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I mean, I think it’ll be an adjustment, obviously, but I love my team, you know?” He said, raising his eyebrows slightly before letting out a small chuckle. “We’re all family here and I’m ready to take that responsibility of leading our team, our family.”

Family. You thought his choice of describing the team as a family was interesting. You were sure a lot of players would describe their team that way, but it was interesting for another reason. Quinn said it like he truly meant it. Like his team was truly his family. He said it with the care that conveyed a familial bond. That was what was interesting. Family.

You nodded at his answer, offering him a small smile that wasn’t returned. Why did he have to make this more awkward? You dropped the smile from your face for the rest of that interview. You weren’t smiling for yourself anyway, you were smiling out of politeness, decency, and respect. If he wasn’t giving that to you, then you didn’t have to give that to him, you decided.

You continued the interview, thanking some higher power every once in a while that this was not a video interview, because there were more than a few awkward pauses that you were more than glad you wouldn’t need to include. You glanced over to J.T. every once in a while, seeking reassurance, because you sure as hell weren’t receiving any from Quinn. You knew it wasn’t his job to make you feel comfortable while you asked him questions, but it would’ve been nice. Instead, he didn’t even offer a simple smile back to you, only smiled every so often when talking about his teammates.

You were grateful when J.T. got done with his interview and walked back over to you and Quinn. It gave you an out, a way to simply end the interview early and leave. As soon as J.T. stepped within 6 feet of you and Quinn you wrapped up the interview with little warning, just saying that all your questions had been answered, thanking Quinn, and telling him you look forward to speaking with him again. He nodded, seemingly not giving a fuck about what you had to say.

You said thank you to J.T. as well, wishing him well. He offered to walk you out to your car, but you politely declined. You swore you could see Quinn roll his eyes at J.T.’s offer, but you couldn’t be sure.

You made your way to your car, the click-clack of your shoes on the ground an almost comforting sound. You made sure to hit the unlock button on your car key about three times as you approached your vehicle. You didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment of setting off your own car alarm. You opened your car door, quickly disappearing behind the tint of your windows. You didn’t even put the key in the ignition for a good two minutes, just resting your head on the steering wheel, thinking about everything and nothing.

You felt overwhelmed with a fear that you knew all too well as you started your car. The fear of not being good enough. The fear had haunted you for nearly your entire life. It wasn’t new to you, but you still hated it and it still controlled you to a certain extent.

You drove home in complete silence. No music. No humming. No cursing out other drivers. You kept your eyes on the road and tried to keep unwelcome thoughts out of your mind. It worked for the most part, but you knew hiding from things wasn’t the answer. You just wanted to wait until you were in the safety of your own apartment before you dealt with how you felt.

You parked your car, counting your blessings and the fact that your apartment complex had a parking lot, so you didn’t have to walk far. Of course, once you got to your apartment door, your keys wouldn’t fucking cooperate with you. And by that, you mean that you couldn’t find the right one on your keychain. Your keychain had some keys that hadn’t been in use in years. It took you forever to find the right one. You were frustrated, to say the least. That’s always how things go though. The most annoying things happen when you really are not in the mood for them.

You opened your apartment door, muttering to yourself, “I have to get those fucking labeled,” as you walked in. You groaned as you tried to shut the door behind you, but of course, it didn’t quite close all the way. You shut the door all the way, wanting nothing more than to slam it as hard as you could, but knowing, for obvious reasons, that you couldn’t.

You breathed deeply, setting your bag down on the counter, making sure to dig your phone out of it and shove it in your pocket, before moving to go sit in your bedroom. You didn’t really know if you were going to your bed or your desk, but you knew you were going to your room. You would sit on your couch if it was actually put together and not sitting disassembled in its box in the middle of your living room.

You sat down on your bed, above the covers. You stared at the wall for a few moments before pulling your phone back out of your pocket. You’d used your phone to record the interviews. No video, just audio. You knew you would have to start transcribing at some point today, but you weren’t super keen on doing that right now. You didn’t want to think about your job right now, which was something you never thought you would say. More accurately, you didn’t want to think about Quinn right now. Quinn and the odd interview and the weird looks and the stressful, well, everything. He wouldn’t leave your mind, his silent belittlement haunting you.

You looked at the time that was displayed on the screen. 2:15. Not bad. You thought about it for a moment. You could maybe take a nap. You were kind of tired. More mentally than physically though, but you would do anything to ease your mind right now.

You didn’t bother changing your clothes, they were comfortable enough. You plugged your phone in, setting it on your nightstand before getting up to turn the light off. It didn’t do much to darken the room. You hadn’t put your curtains up yet and the sun was peeking through your bedroom window quite easily. It wasn’t ideal, but you'd managed to fall asleep with worse going on.

You sighed, climbing under the covers and getting comfortable. It took a few moments of tossing and turning, but you finally got into a comfortable position. It didn’t last long though, and soon, what was supposed to be a relaxing nap, became lying awake in silence, constantly moving and trying to sleep. You didn’t sleep. It took an hour before you finally gave up and sat up in your bed.

You grabbed your phone off of your nightstand, deciding to just scroll on your phone for a bit. You opened Instagram. You didn’t post often. You mainly just used it to message and stalk people. You had a private account that not many people tried to follow often, so you were a little surprised when you saw that you had a new follow request. From j.tmiller9. It had the little blue checkmark next to it, so you figured it was legit. You accepted the follow request, not thinking too much of it besides the fact that you were happy you’d at least made a good impression on someone. You didn’t like the subtle reminder of Quinn though.

Everything about Quinn pissed you off. His nonchalance. The way he brushed you off. His stupid fucking sweaty hair after the practice. You especially hated how he’d made you feel so small.

You unplugged your phone, deciding that if you couldn’t sleep, you might as well do something productive with your time. You stood up from your bed, not bothering to turn the light on, the natural light from the window being enough. Pulled out the chair from your desk, you opened your laptop and sat down, ready to transcribe the interviews. You decided to start with Quinn’s. Might as well.

You opened the voice memo app on your phone and began the transcribing. The recording of your and Quinn’s voices coming through your phone stressed you out. Maybe you shouldn’t have started with his interview. You desperately wanted to get through this with no trouble. You took a steadying breath, whispering, “You’re okay,” to yourself as you did so.

With somewhat shaky hands, you rewinded the recording on your phone so you could begin typing, but stopped before you could hit play when you saw an Instagram notification. You clicked on it almost immediately and were taken to a message from J.T. You read it, letting out a sigh of relief as you did. It read, You did good today, Kid. Sorry about Quinn, he’s just a little stressed lately. I’ll have Petey talk to him, don’t worry. He’ll warm up to you.

Quinn was just stressed. That had to be the reason for his behavior earlier, right? You chose to believe it because you really did not feel like worrying anymore. You hit play on the recording and began transcribing.

—

The next practice was two days after the first one. You’d almost opted out of going. You still had some things to get done at home, since you’d just moved in and all, and it wasn’t like you’d have entirely new questions to ask only two days later. Maybe just the ability to ask some other people similar questions. You knew you’d be asking the same questions they’d been asked a thousand times already, and it didn’t really sit right with you. You knew that you should go though, and so you did.

You didn’t get there super early this time. You didn’t feel the need to talk to the players before the practice again. You knew that photos during the practice and maybe a short interview after the fact would suffice. You didn’t need to try and overachieve all the time. You didn’t need to set such higher standards for yourself than for others. You’d been told that a lot, but it was hard to actually put it into practice. You tried though. You tried.

You snapped a few photos during the practice. You were proud that you’d gotten some good ones. You’d also laughed when you saw Quinn cut a little too hard on his edges and almost break his ankles. He was covered in ice as he got up. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you realized you’d gotten a photo of him going down. It wouldn’t have been as funny if it was anyone else. You didn’t really know why you found it so funny when it was Quinn, but you did.

The practice went as normal and the sound of skate blades cutting into the ice and sticks hitting the ice was oddly nice to listen to. The chill of being this close to the rink was oddly comforting as well.

You didn’t have to sit with as many journalists as you did two days prior. You guessed it was because this practice wasn’t as important. Hell, you had been debating on whether or not you were going too.

After practice was over, you waited outside the locker room just as you had before. It took them longer to let you in this time, but you didn’t have a problem with it. It wasn’t like you had anywhere to be after this anyway.

When you were finally permitted to enter the locker room, you walked in and were pleased to be met with a small wave and a bright smile from J.T. You waved back and smiled back, not quite matching his smile, but smiling nonetheless. You were going to walk over to J.T. but stopped walking briefly as you looked over and saw Quinn. He was looking at you, but not exactly acknowledging your presence. It was almost as if he were looking straight through you. You wanted to say something, but you remained silent.

You settled on rolling your eyes. It was almost an instinct to do such. You didn’t even really think about it before you did it. Quinn didn’t seem fazed and that pissed you off more than him looking through you had pissed you off to begin with.

You walked over to where J.T. stood with Elias and Brock. They all had smiles on their faces. You were sure they’d seen your reaction to Quinn, but you didn’t really care all that much. J.T. was quick to “introduce” you to Elias and Brock, even though you’d already met them two days ago. Granted, you had met them pretty formally, and J.T. wasn’t introducing them formally.

“I know you have some questions to ask, but, Y/n, this is Boes,” J.T. said, pointing to Brock, “And this is Petey,” he said, patting Elias on the back lightly.

“We met briefly,” You said with a soft chuckle. It didn’t take long for J.T. to comment.

“Yeah, briefly,” He said dramatically, “This is a friendly meeting.”

Brock bowed extravagantly as if he were a knight meeting a queen and this felt so unprofessional and yet so fucking fun. Elias went the more professional route, opting to stick out his hand in a handshake. You took Elias’s hand, shaking it and Brock fauxed offense that you didn’t react to his bow.

“He gets a handshake and I’m not even acknowledged?!” Brock asked incredulously, his jaw almost on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Brock,” You said with a small laugh. “Your bow was very…impressive?” You said and it came out as more of a question than a statement.

Brock’s face dropped and he made a pout with his lips. He glared at you, keeping up with the dramatic act for a surprising amount of time. “That sounded genuine,” he deadpanned sarcastically.

“Oh, it very much was,” You replied, just as sarcastic as he had.

You could feel eyes on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when you felt this welcomed. You were a reporter coming in to ask them a bunch of questions and you were being welcomed. It wasn’t like anything you’d experienced before. These linemates were smiling and laughing with you. This team really was like a family.

Taglist: @ru-kru

#hockey rpf #hockey romance #nhl fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #nhl hockey #nhl #hockey #nhl x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #qh43 #vancouver canucks

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improbable-outset · 22 days ago

Text

📄 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦

Kenji Sato x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Coach’s daughter AU, Fluff, lots of shameless flirting, teasing, secret relationship

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Over coffee and conversation, Ken finds solace in a café, far from the chaos of the baseball stadium.

Ken had never felt his heart gallop this intensely before. Not even during his rise to stardom with the Dodgers back in LA could compare to the thrill and anticipation coursing through him right now.

This was more personal— unpredictable in a way that no game or spotlight could prepare him for. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t chasing a title.

It was a moment with someone special that made everything else feel secondary.

Tucked away in a quiet street of Tokyo’s lesser known district, the glow of the neon signs reflected off slick pavements as he watched you navigate the path, weaving between parked bikes and stray vending machines.

The faint hum of the distant train was the only sound that filled the night’s silence.

“Ken!” your voice rang through the empty streets, bright and familiar. As you drew closer, Ken couldn’t help but notice how the muted lights reflected in your glossy eyes, giving them an otherworldly sparkle.

He didn’t say anything until you were close enough for you to hear him without yelling.

“You made it…” His lips curled into a smile, meeting your gaze with a tender look. “Did you get enough rest? You look a bit tired.”

“Barely,” you confessed, a playful tilt painted on your lips. “I’ve been counting down the minutes until I can see you again.”

Ken was used to fans clamoring for a moment of his time, expressing their excitement to see him. But something about the eagerness in your voice and the slight bounce in your step sent a flutter through him.

He glanced around, checking that the streets were still empty before reaching out to cradle your cheek.

“You’re so clingy.” he teased, still holding his grin.

“I would’ve kissed you right now if we weren’t in public.” you shot back with a small smirk.

Ken leaned closer until his face was eye level to yours, his voice dropped to a heated whisper

“I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

The impulse to close the distance simmered under his skin, but the risk of being seen was enough to keep him rooted.

“But I also don’t want an angry mob of your dad’s supporters coming after me after catching us in a compromising position.”

Your smile faltered, replaced by a shadow of worry. “Right…my dad. I don’t want anybody from the press finding out either.”

“Yeah, the press…” Ken’s expression hardened, his tone turning bitter.

The media always lurked, threatening to expose what little happiness he could claim. He wished he didn’t have to sneak around like this.

He envied those who could show affection openly, like some of his teammates who left games with their families in tow. The normalcy forever felt out of reach for Ken.

“Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like…” he murmured, eyes drifting past the dim glow of the distant lights. “If we dated openly, without worrying about your father, or the fans, or the media.”

Ken rarely admitted these things, but seeing how you aligned with his unspoken thoughts made it easier to voice his fragile feelings— especially about your relationship.

“What could the fans do anyway? It’s not like they could control your life.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ken said with a hint of edge. “There are some intense fans out there that take their idols' personal lives way too seriously.”

Ken didn’t want to think too deeply about a situation blowing out of proportion. If rumours began, he knew all too well how quickly fans would start prying on your life, looking for any reason to judge.

Even the slightest flaw could unleash a tornado of online harassment. He didn’t want to bring that sort of trouble into your life.

His jaws clenched, a grimace flashing across his features before he shook the thought away.

“I’m more worried about dad. If he ever found out about us…I can’t even imagine how he’d react. Especially after that latest press conference. He came home moping,” you said, the last words trailed into a tired groan.

“I know, I could’ve handled it better.” Ken chuckled, before it was shadowed by guilt as he remembered his altercation with Coach Shimura. “I hate when the press digs for gossip.”

A low rumble of an approaching car snapped him out of his thoughts. Its headlights illuminated the empty street, casting fleeting shadows over the both of you, before disappearing down the narrow road.

You take a hold of Ken’s hand and gently tug him forward. “Come on, let’s head inside.”

You slip into a small, dimly lit cafe— a hidden gem that seemed to be empty from the outside view. It’s secluded places like this that makes your relationship feel safe, untouched by the eyes of the world.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries enveloped him, a silent call of the rare moment of peace you shared.

The cafe itself was modest in size, with wooden chairs and tables neatly arranged beneath the dim ambiance lighting.

There were a few patrons scattered here and there— a couple sharing a quiet intimate conversation near the window at the high table, and a few students hunched over textbooks.

Sparse decorations adorned the walls: faded vintage poster advertising sodas and sweet treats with its vibrant colours faded over time.

At the centre of each table sat a miniature cherry blossom tree, the soft pink petals contrasted against the dark wood.

Together, you crossed the cafe's interior, where a lone worker was wiping down the countertops. The glass display case in front of you showcased an array of cakes and pastries, though the selection was limited at this hour.

“You gonna order anything?” you asked, eyes scanning over the hanging menu above the counter.

“Yeah…a latte and maybe a cake, too,” Ken paused, gaze flickering over the cake display before shifting back to you. “You want anything?”

“I’ll probably get a bowl of anmitsu,” you mused, turning to meet his eyes. “What kind of cake will you be getting?”

Ken hums in thought for a moment, leaning in closer to the display. Rows of desserts were neatly arranged.

Fluffy cake rolls on the tile shelf with their swirls of cream peaking our— flavours ranged from strawberry to matcha. Slices of chiffon cakes in pastal colours on the middle shelf. And finally, tiny containers of pudding at the bottom.

“Not sure yet,” he murmured, his mind wandering over the cake display. His smile took a slight wicked edge as he added. “Maybe a cake I can feed you a bite of…”

The image of him holding out a spoonful to you flashed through his mind, followed by your lips closing around it. His imagination reeled, and he caught himself chewing his lower lip, a faint flush creeping up his neck.

Just as his thoughts threaten to wander further, your voice pulls him back to the present.

“Their chiffon cakes are always good.” you said, gesturing towards the pastel cakes.

“Yeah?” Ken followed your gaze to the neatly placed cakes. “But they’re crumbly. I’ll get cake all over your face.”

“It’ll be worth it though.” you teased.

Ken chuckled, glancing at the display again and taking another moment to look at the options again. His eyes shifted to the pastries with their delicious golden crust glistening under the light.

“Maybe I should get something messy, then,” he leaned in close to your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper again. “Like…one of those cream puffs with the sweet, sticky filling. I could lick it off your lips.”

Your eyes widened, and you let out an exaggerated gasp, swatting his chest. “Shhh! You can’t say that out here.”

“Why not?” he grinned, voice lacing with his smugness. “No one’s paying attention to us.”

Despite your playful scolding, Ken’s chest swelled with satisfaction and his ego soared.

He was aware that he shouldn’t push things too far, especially in public, but seeing how flustered you were and your stunned expression was too irresistible not to enjoy.

“Still…what if someone was eavesdropping on us.” you said, a hint of caution in your voice as your eyes darted briefly towards the other patrons.

“Then they’ll just hear me flirting. Harmless isn’t it? Doesn’t matter if they know how badly I want to taste the cream puff from your lips.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“What? I can’t tell my girlfriend how badly I want to kiss her?”

“Hmph, just order already.” You crossed your arms with mock indignation.

“Alright I’ll order for us, you go and find us a seat.”

His eyes followed your form as you weaved through the tables, your movement unhurried but purposeful. You found a table in the corner of the cafe that offered both privacy and a clear line of sight to the entrance.

Ken couldn’t help but hold his gaze at you with the cafe’s lighting cast a warm glow over your features.

Dragging his focus back to the task at hand, Ken stepped up to the counter and placed the order— a latte and a slice of cake for himself and a bowl of anmitsu for you.

Ken watched as steam erupted with a high-pitch hiss from the milk frother, the aromatic scent of the coffee mixed with the faint sweetness from the pastries.

The barista poured the milk into the latte cup with grace and precision, creating a delicate foam on top. Besides her, another worker arranged your anmitsu, layering the sweet toppings before placing it alongside with a spoon.

When the tray was finally ready, Ken paid and carefully carried it across the room. The clinking sound of ceramic cups and murmurs of the patrons accompanied his steps.

Setting the tray down on the table with a small smile on his lips, he slid into the seat across from you, feeling the soft cushioned chair beneath him.

Your eyes swept over the content of the tray before landing on the cream puff besides the latte. Your brow arched in disbelief. “Oh my God, you actually got it.”

“I did. Why? Did you think I wouldn’t? You thought I was bluffing?”

“Well, yeah. You’re always bluffing.”

The corner of his lips curled into a smirk at your surprise. Ken pushed your amnitsu closer to you before claiming his own plate. A faint whiff of the dessert’s sweet and rich scent rose to his nose, stirring his anticipation.

Picking up the fork, he scooped a bit of the cream cake and popped it in his mouth. He deliberately closed his eyes and let out an exaggerated, drawn-out moan of pleasure at the taste.

Even with his eyes shut, he could feel your gaze burning into him. He even took it a step further and started licking the cream off his lips.

When he opened his eyes, he found you pulling a face and he couldn’t help but give you a cheeky grin. “It’s delicious, by the way…”

“Hmm, it does look good.”

“Come on…you’ve been staring at it long enough. Have a bite.”

Ken took another spoon full of the dessert before holding it out to you. The moment you leaned in to reach for the spoon, he felt his heart spike and his senses on high alert— taking in every single detail of your action.

His eyes never left your mouth as they parted and closed delicately around the fork. He felt the fork grow lighter as you took the bite.

His focus stayed on your tongue flicking across your upper lip to catch the traces of cream and powdered sugar.

Witnessing it happen in real time was far more tantalising than his imagination— the sight was intoxicating.

He swallowed thickly, forcibly pushing the heat stirring in his chest.

A heat pooled in his gut, seeing you chew on the cake thoughtfully, completely oblivious to the effect you were having on him.

Ken inhaled sharply, trying to ground himself as he reached for a napkin. His hands trembled more than usual as he leaned forward and dapped the corner of your mouth to wipe away the cream you’d missed.

But instead of pulling back after, his thumb lingered, brushing over your lower lip— the same lips he had kissed feverishly in the past. The contact was light and featherlight but enough to make his stomach flip.

You froze under his touch, meeting his gaze. Your lips parted slightly to speak.

“Light and fluffy…”

“Mhm…” Ken hummed, completely distracted. Though he wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the cream puff you just had or the softness of your lips.

“Do you wanna try mine?”

Ken blinked rapidly, snapping out of his trance. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away from your lips, the warmth of your skin fading too quickly.

But his attention turned to your bowl of anmitsu, taking in the vibrant layers of fruit, glossy jelly cubes, and the soft mochi balls.

“Sure…looks delicious.”

Taking the spoon you offered, scooped a piece of mochi and fruit from the bowl.

The fruits were cool and refreshing in his mouth, and blended with the mochi which gave a pleasantly chewy texture.

He handed the spoon back to you, still chewing on the mochi. You pushed the fruit and the mochi around in the bowl with the spoon meticulously.

“They put a lot of mochi in this.” you commented.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.”

You reached for the brown sugar syrup that came with your anmitsu and poured it over the bowl. “Try it now.”

Ken scooped another bite, now coated in the syrup. The sugary bursts mixed with the fruits tang, and he let out a low hum of approval at the sweetness. “Hm…it does taste better.”

“Too sweet?”

“It’s already sweet enough, though I think you’re sweeter.”

“Corny.” you said, dragging out the word to emphasise your disapproval, though the faint smile on your lips betrayed you.

Ken chuckled at your reaction, he knew you were only disguising the effect his words were having on you.

He propped his elbow on the table, leaning his chin against his palm with his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“It’s only corny because you get flustered every time. Did you see your face earlier? When I was talking about the cream puffs?”

You only rolled your eyes at his words, a grin forming on your lips now. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“So, you’re only putting up with me because I’m cute?”

“And maybe because you’re a star player and super rich and whatever.” you replied, twirling the spoon through the anmitsu and waving your hands dismissively.

Ken tilts his head, the back and forth banter bringing a warmth in his chest. Being with you like this— relaxed and unguarded— was a relief in ways he rarely allowed himself to think about.

Having conversations like this with you felt refreshing knowing he would tease and you’ll do it right back.

He tapped his finger against his chin in a mock pensiveness before responding back. “Right, so you’re telling me it's my money and status you’re after, not my dazzling personality or good looks?”

“Oh, that too, I guess.”

“Is that how it’s gonna be, princess? Pretending you don’t secretly like me for more than my money or looks.”

“And what if I said yes?”

“Well,” he said in mock contemplation. “I’d have to work extra hard to win you over. Though I’d say that I'm pretty confident I have a head start.”

“I think you might need to focus on getting on dad’s good side first.”

Something struck inside him at your words— like a whiplash. The mention of your father always hit differently, a reminder of the uneasy dynamic that lingered between them. Ken let out a short sigh, his chest tightening.

It was still a sore spot for him that Shimura initially disapproved of him and his less-than-stellar past behind— though it wasn’t unexpected.

Despite everything Ken had accomplished back in LA— leaving his troubles behind and earning his respect in the field— it seemed his reputation preceded him.

Shimura, along with his teammates, had always treated him like the brash American kid trying to catch up, even though he came back to Japan to prove him among his own people.

With you, however, it was the opposite. You didn’t see him as an outsider or just another player in your dads team. You made him feel like he belonged.

That contrast made moments like these jarring, as if he was living two different lives— one as your boyfriend, and the other as a player constantly trying to win over your father.

Ken’s tone shifted quickly to be more serious, exposing his vulnerability in his words.

“Yeah…I’m trying, princess. It’s just, I don’t want to screw things up and risk not being able to see you again like this.”

Ken took a sip from his latte, the beverage now lukewarm against his tongue, but his mind was elsewhere and far from the cozy warmth of the cafe.

He knew he shouldn’t be dwelling on the ‘what-ifs,’ not when he was on a date with you. But as he sat there, he couldn’t ignore the nagging thoughts that pulled him under. How different would his life be if things had turned out another way?

What if his mother had never taken him to LA? If he’d stayed in Japan, would Shimura still look at him with the faint edge of distrust?

Would he see him different— one who wasn’t marked by a childhood spent feeling like an outcast in a foreign country?

Ken’s jaws clenched. He had spent most of his life in America, trying to fit into a culture that didn’t quite know what to do with him. The bullying had been relentless, the teasing cutting deep in ways he hadn’t fully healed from, leaving the scar of isolation.

Friendships were distant at best. Romantic relationships were practically nonexistent. For a long time, he felt like no one truly saw him.

Even the rise to stardom with the Dodgers hadn’t changed that much. Sure, people admired him, celebrated with him— but it still felt hollow and fragile.

None of it felt real, not like this. Not like you.

He glanced at you across the table, your head down as you inspected your dessert in front of you. If he’d never returned to Japan, he wouldn’t be sitting here right now, sharing this quiet, intimate moment with the only person who truly sees him.

Still, a bitter reminder lingered in the back of his mind. Would he have risen to stardom at all if he hadn’t gone to LA? Despite how brutal it was, the isolation and struggles had shaped him— it made him resilient-driven.

Without those years of grit and loneliness , would he have had the means to lead the Giants to victory? Would he have been ready to take his father’s Ultraman duties when the time came?

Ken sighed again, finishing off the last bite of his cream puff before taking another sip of his latte. It really was strange, the way life worked.

The very things that had made him feel out of place— his complicated family history, his American upbringing, the expectation of following his father’s footsteps— had somehow led him here, with you.

However, the weight of those ‘what-ifs’ still pressed onto his chest. His life with you— a fragile happiness— was precarious. He couldn’t shake the fear that one wrong move could send it all crashing down.

Being caught in the act by your father. It made his throat constrict with anxiety. He already knew that Shimura didn’t trust him. What if that made him believe that he wasn’t good enough for you? That he couldn’t take care of you the way you deserve?

He took another sip from his latte, though it did little to sooth the knot in his chest.

“You know,” you began, not looking up from your bowl as you stirred the syrup into the anmitsu, “being with you makes it easier to forget about everything else.” you said, not looking up from your bowl as you spoke.

Your words caught him off guard, but the tension in his shoulders started to melt. His stunned expression softened, replaced by something gentler.

“Yeah…that’s part of why I like you so much. You make me forget about everything.” His cheeks flushed slightly how openly heartfelt he was now as the words left his mouth, but he didn’t shy away from their weight. “It’s like…you make me want to be a better man.”

He reached out and let his fingers skim across the back of your hand— a subtle touch that carried all his unspoken emotions that he struggled to articulate.

You paused, looking up at him. “I don’t think I can imagine your struggles…especially considering your money and fame overshadow all of that.”

“Everyone thinks that it's easy.” Ken’s lips quivered into a humourless smile. “Being a player admired by thousands. I guess some parts of it are great. But there’s still a lot of stress and pressure.”

He glanced down at the flakes of his cream puff on the empty plate with his thoughts flickering like the steam rising from his latte.

Expectation pulled at him from every corner of Ken’s life— like a massive tree, sprawling yet burdened.

The roots that ran deep were from his fathers influence. They were planted firmly in the soil of his childhood and enchtranched his upbringing and identity.

The roots were unshakable, just like his fathers legacy of being Ultraman— something he was expected to fulfill.

No matter how far he had gone, across the Pacific to LA, he’d never truly escape those roots. Even now they wound tighter around him, tethered to the ground he was expected to nurture.

Then there was the bark— the protective layer. That was Coach Shimura and his teammates. It shielded him from the eternal storms, but it wasn’t invincible. It still demanded so much from the tree itself.

Shimura’s expectations weren’t harsh, but they were heavy and carried their own weight. The bark was strong and steady, but sometimes, it felt like it was tightening. As if holding the tree too firmly in place.

But it was the branch of the tree that weighed him down the most— the fans and the public image. They reached far and wide, growing outwardly. Branches were supposed to flourish.

But how were they expected to grow if you don’t cater to its needs. That’s what it felt like for Ken.

One wrong move; one bad game, and they could snap off. Every game felt like a performance of those branches, trying to keep those intact, making sure they don’t fall under pressure.

But no matter how strong they appeared, Ken knew how easily they could break.

And then there were the leaves, fragile and fleeting— the opinion of the critics, the headlines of papers, the ever-shifting opinions on social media.

Leaves changed with the seasons. One day could be lush and green, full of praises and admiration. The next, they withered and fell, leaving the tree bare and exposed. Their praises were temporary and their critics were choppy.

Though the leaves were less permanent, they still needed care and their loss could hurt the tree entirely. However, Ken couldn’t stop the seasons from changing or the wind from blowing.

Ken swallowed thickly, his eyes glued to the table as his train of thoughts spiraled further. Being that tree sometimes felt like he was stretching thin, trying to meet the demands of every root, branch and leaf.

And then there was you.

You weren’t a part of that endless tree. Not another branch to hold up, nor another leaf to nourish. At least, not yet. But the fear gnawed at him, dark and persistent, whispering at the edges of his mind.

What if you have expectations too?

You hadn’t said much or demanded anything, but it was only natural, wasn’t it? Relationships are always built on unspoken agreements of needs, hopes, and desires.

What kind of boyfriend did you want him to be? What were you looking for in him? Would he ever be enough?

It wasn’t that he doubted your feelings for him. It was the pressure he felt to be the person that you deserved.

To always be charming, supportive, attentive. To make time for you despite his demanding career.

For so much of his life, he had been judged by the outside world— his performance, his persona, his wins, and his losses. The thought of being seen by you that way made his throat tighten.

What if one day, you grew tired of him or wasn’t getting what you wanted from him and left? The thought alone of the empty space you would leave behind broke his heart and made his mouth dry.

It was worse than losing a game, worse than headlines calling him a failure.

Even with the lighthearted conversation and teasing you just shared earlier, his doubts were almost impossible to shrug off.

His mind were a battlefield of his insecurities and worries, but the warmth of your hands that pulled him out of his dark thoughts startled him.

You brought his hand and gently kissed over his knuckles. “Even if things do turn out bad for you, I’ll still think you’re incredible.”

The affectionate gesture unravelled him, nearly spinning him off his axis from being flustered— his mind momentarily going blank.

It wasn’t just the kiss— it was the conviction in your voice. The quiet, unwavering way you said it.

He let out a quiet sigh, his eyes half-lidded as he leaned a little closer to you. The warmth of your kiss still lingered on his hand.

“You always know how to make me feel better.” he murmured, his voice carrying a sincerity he rarely let show.

“You’ll still have all of me, even if you mess up. And I know you’ll do the same.” You brow arched as you added, “Right?”

Ken tilted his head, an amused smirk played on his lips at your remark at the end. The tension in his chest was replaced by fond amusement.

“Of course I will. You think I’d trade you in for someone else?” his voice lowered, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made his next words feel like a vow. “I'm not letting you go princess…not for anything.”

At that moment, the weight of the world seemed distant, as if the noise of expectations and pressure had diluted to a low hum.

He was so focused on looking at you, Ken didn’t notice you sneaking your hands across the table to reach for his coffee mug until you announced it.

“I’m taking a sip from your coffee.” you said, already snatching the cup.

Ken blinked, catching up to the present. “Hey…that’s mine.”

“I don’t have anything to wash down the mochi.”

“Hmm, can’t say no to that.”

Your face scrunched slightly in distaste after you took a sip. “You don’t put sugar in coffee?”

Ken shook his head and chuckled at the face you made. “No…I like the bitterness of the coffee. It’s more enjoyable that way.”

“I suppose the cream puff makes up for the sweetness.”

“No cream puffs for you any time soon if you keep stealing my drinks.”

“I don’t want anymore anyways,” you huffed in feigned offends. “Too bitter.”

“Awh what’s wrong? Can’t handle the taste of something that’s not over-sugared.”

“It’s not that…how do you drink that raw with no sugar?” your nose scrunched in mock indignation.

“I’m just used to it, I like the stronger taste of my coffee.” he glanced down at his coffee mug before looking back at you. “How could you drink something that’s so sweet?”

“It won’t be too sweet. The sugar just cancels out the bitterness.” you said, matter-of-factly.

Ken only rolled his eyes, responding with an exaggerated sweet tone. “Sure, princess. It’s not too sweet…just enough to make it a sugary drink instead of actually having a coffee taste.”

You pushed the mug back to him, waving off his dramatics. It was almost cathartic how the conversation could go from heartfelt and tender to teasing and flirting, like a flip of a switch.

With you, it always felt right, like stepping into the sun after being caught in the rain.

Ken shook his head at your dismissal, lifting the mug to take another sip of the latte. He didn’t mind the bitterness, especially if it meant sharing more moments with you.

Your eyes flickered past him, freezing on something near the cafe entrance.

“Crap.” you muttered.

Ken’s brow furrowed before turning to see where you were looking. Blood rushed in his ear the moment he spotted his teammates walking through the door.

Their presence wasn't loud or disruptive, but rather casual as they made their way towards the counter. The familiar jerseys and laughter sent a jolt of panic through him and a look of slight trepidation crossed his face.

“Crap…” he echoed your words, quickly turning back to you. “I think that’s our queue to leave.”

What were the odds? The cafe was in a quiet area, far from the usual hotspots, and yet here they were. His shoulders stiffened as he scanned the room, trying to gauge if anyone had spotted you.

Ken stood up first, his chair scraped softly against the floor. They weren’t looking in your direction but it was only a matter of time if you both stayed there any longer.

His voice lowered in your ear. “Come on.”

His hands found your wrist, lightly gripping it as he guided you towards the door without being noticed.

“They haven’t seen us, yet.” you said, glancing nervously at the group.

“Let’s not give them the chance.” His voice was barely audible, and his grip on your wrist tightened as you both made it to the door.

The air in the cafe felt heavier with every step. Ken’s pulse quickened and he resisted the urge to look over his shoulder.

The brass of the door handle was cool against Ken’s palm as he pushed it open. The cool breeze brushed against his face, a welcome contrast to the tension that had knotted inside.

The cafe, once a warm refuge that provided comfort, now felt like a minefield— every glance a potential threat.

Ken scanned the area of anybody potentially following you both. The buzz of distant traffic and the rustle leaves were the only signs that greeted you. Once he was satisfied, he let out a loud sigh of relief.

“So, where to now?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“We should probably get off this street and go somewhere else more quiet…and private.”

Ken turned down the corner, his strides confident but unhurried. The two of you emerged into an empty car park bathed in the dim, orange glow of streetlights.

Everything else felt insignificant now, far from the predicament from the cafe or the traffic beyond. Ken led the way toward the far corner, where a sleek bike rested— its polished surface gleaming under the lights.

“Is that your bike?” you gasped, taking in the sigh that was in front of you.

“Yeah, that’s my ride.” The pride was evident in his voice and his expression, seeing the look on your face.

“It’s beautiful.” The genuine awe in your voice sent a ripple through him.

He didn’t say anything, only gave the bike a fond pat before throwing his leg over it and settling into the seat.

“You up for a quick cruise?”

“You sure?”

“Of course. Have you ever been on one?”

“No….” you admitted sheepishly, your eyes darted to the floor out of shyness. He felt a hint of his male ego spike at that, his eyes roaming at your figure.

“Well,” he said, shifting forward on the seat to give you room. “I guess I’ll be your first ride, then. Hop on— I’ll take care of you.”

You hesitated for a moment, your hands brushing against the cool leather of the seat.

“Have you ever had a woman ride behind you before?” you asked. Ken didn’t miss the flicker of doubt in your voice

His hands tightened on the handlebar, looking back at you. It wasn’t the question that threw him off but the way you asked it.

He recognised the insecurity, the way it slipped out almost against your own will. And it hit him harder than expected.

The idea that you might think he was the type to collect fleeting connections and one night stands stung.

“Of course not.” His voice was steady, stripped of its usual tease. “You’re the only one I’d ever want to give a ride to.

You let out a small, nervous laugh at that. “I guess I’ll be your first, too.”

Ken chuckled, patting the seat behind him. “Damn right you will be.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but making you feel secure in this moment felt more important than anything else.

Ken’s joyrides were something sacred— his personal retreat from the noise and chaos. The familiar rumble of the engine had always been his companion, a constant source of solace.

It wasn’t something shared with anyone. Ever.

But now, as you stood next to the leather seat, it struck him how different this felt. Letting you into this part of his life was like cracking open a private door, one he’d never let anybody step into.

The thrill of it sent a flutter through him, both exhilarating and unnerving.

You finally took your seat behind him, and the shift in weight sent a wave of awareness through him. He swallowed hard when it suddenly hit him how close you were behind him.

Then your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and he felt his nerves spike. The heat of your fingertips grazed his abdomen sent little sparks of electricity through his body.

It wasn’t fear he was feeling but an intensity he wasn’t prepared for.

He let out a shallow breath as he felt your body pressed even closer. The sight of you behind him in the side mirror was enough to draw in a quick breath.

With a flick of the kill switch, the bike roared to life beneath him. The vibration and the sound broke the stillness, carrying you both out of the car park and into the Tokyo streets at an incredible speed.

The neon glow of the city painted streaks of light across the dark streets, and the hum of the traffic blurred in the background.

It was just you and him with the quiet rhythm of your trust that kept him grounded.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @despacito-uwu16 @roserfz27

#★— ayrus writes #coach’s daughter ☆#ultraman fanfic #ultraman: rising #ultraman rising #ultraman #kenji sato x y/n #kenji sato x you #kenji sato x reader #kenji x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ultraman ken #ken sato #ken sato x y/n #ken sato x you #ken sato ultraman

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viking-raider · 1 year ago

Text

Thankful

Summary: For Thanksgiving, you decide to take part of a military support group event and host a Veteran, having them over for dinner. Forming a lasting bond with a certain Captain.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warning: G - Cotton Candy Goodness, Angst, Mention of Loss of Family Member, Mourning, Cold Mother, Embarrassed!Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Use, Fluff, Friendly Bets, Southern Charm

Inspiration: It’s for Thanksgiving. 🍗

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS! My Syverson's first name is Austin.

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

You had received the message from one of the countless Military support groups you were a part of about the Sponsoring a Veteran for Thanksgiving event, and if you were interested in participating. You had hesitated for a couple days, before finally caving. You didn't have much family left of your own, just your mother. Since your father passed, when you were a kid and your only sibling, a brother, had been killed in the line of duty. Which was why you were a member of the support groups, looking to keep a closeness to him, and find some sort of peace with his death.

“All right.” The lead organizer, retired Lieutenant Sarah Timmans, sighed, looking over her clipboard at the list of names of all the Veterans that had been signed up for the event. “Your mother knows you're hosting a Vet, right?” She asked, cocking a brow at you, knowing how sensitive and touchy your mother was still about being around anything directly Military.

“I told her, I was bringing a friend over.” You answered, biting your lip nervously, knowing your mother's own mood swings on the subject.

“Girl, she's going to flip out on you.” Sarah said, shaking her head, eyes bulging. “Maybe, you should just do something one-on-one with them?” She suggested, trying to bypass a disaster.

“She's expecting us, and I'll get an earful, if I skip another family gathering.”

Sarah snorted at you, smirking. “It's your KP!” She teased, going down the list to find your name and who you'd been assigned. “So, your Vet is Captain Austin Syverson. He just retired seven months ago after nineteen years in the service of the U.S Army. Special Forces.” She informed you, looking up from the clipboard to scan the crowded room for a moment.

“Ah, there he is!” She smiled, motioning behind you.

Turning around and following her gaze, you were surprised for a moment, standing on the other side of the room, in a small cluster of other Vets, was a tall, thickly muscular guy, with a shaved head and well groomed beard. Everything about him exuded authority, self-confidence and calm. He was so damn handsome in his pair of dark wash blue jeans, brown cowboy boots and fleshly ironed, black dress shirt that was tucked in, showing off his belt buckle. Your insides tingled as you stared at him, throat going dry.

“Damn, that's a Texas boy.” You mumbled under your breath.

“Sure is.” Sarah agreed, checking him out as well. “You should go introduce yourself, before he thinks you stood him up.” She added, a hint of encouragement in her voice.

“God, you're right.” You started, frightened he just might, then weaved through the crowd towards him, pausing for a moment, until he noticed you. “Hi there.” You beamed up at him, your knees like a nervous jelly.

“Ma'am.” Syverson greeted you back with a Southern drawl, tipping his head forward.

“I'm your host, Captain Syverson.” You informed him, introducing yourself.

“Oh.” He replied, giving you a proper look over, a smile pulling over his lips as he took your lovely figure in the white, knee-length dress covered in delicate yellow flowers, paired with black flats. “It's a pleasure to meet you.” He said, his bright blue eyes meeting yours once more. “You can just call me, Sy.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Sy.” You answered, cordially extending your hand.

Smirking broader, Sy gently took your hand in his, shaking it. “I'm grateful that you've allowed me impose myself on you and your family's holiday.”

“Oh, it's quite all right.” You waved it off, shrugging your shoulders. “It's really just me and my mom, so nothing major.”

“Well, I'm just a Captain, so it'll literally be nothing Major.” Sy quipped, making the group around him crackle at the inside joke.

You dropped your head, hiding your amused smile, knowing the two of you were more than likely to get along, if he had that sense of humor. “Fair.” You nodded, lifting your head. “More than fair. Well, we can leave whenever you like.”

Sy turned over his wrist to glance at his watch. “We can go now, if you like.” He replied, twisting to a chair that was behind him and picking up a black, denim Sherpa coat off the back. “I'll see you boys later. Have a good Thanksgiving.” He bid the men, patting a couple on the shoulder, before following you out of the building.

“You can follow me to my place or we can ride together.” You told Sy, standing on the sidewalk with him, chewing on your lip.

“I can follow.” Sy answered, smiling down at you. “My truck's just over there.” He said, motioning over to the big, 2021 Dodge Ram, parked a short distance away.

“Okay. I'm just right there.” You informed him, pointing out your little KIA Niro.

“On your lead then, Major.” Sy quipped, winking at you, before heading off towards his truck.

“Christ,” You huffed, watching after him for a moment, your hand moving up to a necklace around your neck. “He reminds me so much of you, Phelan.” You sighed, then made for your vehicle.

Pulling out of the parking space, your phone started to ring, so you connected the car's Bluetooth. “Mother.” You answered, glancing in your rear-view, to make sure Sy was behind you, before you started out of the parking lot and into the street.

“How much longer are you going to be?” Your mother snapped through the car's speakers.

“I'm just leaving now, mom.” You sighed, pressing your lips together. “I had to find my friend and now we're heading there now. We should be there in about ten or so minutes.”

“Why is he spending Thanksgiving with us? Doesn't he have his own family?” She demanded, clearly pacing the house.

“I'm sure he has a family, mother. But I invited him over to ours and he accepted. So, please, be nice to him. He's a very polite and outstanding person, who doesn't need to be pestered and guilt tripped, or reminded his mother is lucky, that her son is still alive and not in the military and so on.” You hoped to warn and deter her from her usual interaction with the males she came into contact with. “Let's just have a nice dinner, for once.”

“How can we, when your brother isn't here.” She growled, then the line went dead.

“At least, I'm here.” You sighed, deflated by her words. “I should really warn Sy before we get into the house.” You thought, then pushed that unpleasantness aside.

Sy managed to keep behind your car, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. He felt a little nervous about going to a random, pretty young lady's home to have Thanksgiving dinner with her mother. However, he didn't have any other plans for the holiday under his belt, other than staying on the ranch he'd started up on his return home with Aika.

“Idle hands are the devil's workshop.” He commented aloud, following you off the on-ramp.

It would have just been him and his pup, working the horses all day, before making another ten minute meal and sitting in front of his laptop, since he still hadn't gotten around to buying himself a proper tv for the living room. So, he let one of his buddies nag him into signing up for the event. Sy wasn't at all disappointed either.

You were more than easy on his eyes.

Finally making it outside your place, you got out and met Sy in your driveway, shifting glances between him and the front door.

“Are you all right?” Sy asked, squinting down at you.

“Okay, look.” You blurted out, not looking back at him. “My mom is super touchy about the military.” You started to explain to Sy, giving him an embarrassed glance.

“Why?” He frowned, confused.

Your shoulders slumped slightly and a tired expression washed over your face. “My brother died in Afghanistan six years ago. My mom has taken that to her heart and soul. So anything military tends to set her off.”

“Then, should I even be here?” Sy asked, concerned about causing your mother any distress.

“It's my house and you're my guest.” You told him, bluntly. “I want you here for dinner. It'll be nice to have someone over that might actually engage with me.” You said, heading up the footpath towards the front door. “And not remind me that I'm not my dead, older brother.” You added under your breath, but Sy's sharp ear heard you all the same.

“Mom!” You called out, toeing off your shoes as you stood in the entry with Sy. “We're here.”

“Took long enough.” Her voice echoed back somewhere in the house.

You looked up at Sy. “I'm so sorry.” You mouthed, shaking your head.

“It's all right.” He smiled, his hand touching the back of your arm.

“Do you want something to drink?” You asked, showing him into the kitchen and pulling open the fridge. “Got wine, a couple bottles.” You twisted your upper half to peek at an upper shelf. “Looks like she's left my Ardbeg whiskey alone.”

“I wouldn't mind a little whiskey.”

Nodding, you shut the fridge and got down two glasses with the whiskey bottle. “Straight or on the rocks?”

“What are you having?” Sy asked, leaning back against your sink, a twinkle of mischievous curiosity in his eyes.

“The rocks.” You answered, a playful smirk tugging on your lips.

Sy drew a breath in through his nose, pressing his lips together as he nodded. “Impressed.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled, grabbing a couple ice cubes from the freezer and dropped them into your glasses, then poured you and Sy a generous amount of amber liquid. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” Sy tipped his head, taking the glass from you and took a sip. “Damn, that's smooth.”

“Mmm, for a twenty year old bottle, it should be.” You snorted, taking a gulp of yours.

“Twenty years.” Sy choked slightly. “Damn, almost as long as I was in--” He caught himself, eyes shooting to the two kitchen entrances. “Well, you know.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, a little stiff, praying your mother was lurking nearby, and polished off your drink, before moving over to the oven, revealing a nice sized turkey, just starting to turn a golden brown, filling the kitchen with a mouth-watering scent. “I started this about an hour and a half ago, so it should have about another hour or so to go. While it does that, I can show you around.”

“And, if you're as much of a Texan as I think you are, I'll pop the football game on.”

“You don't have to put the game on.” Sy laughed, feeling called out. “We can watch whatever you and your mother want. I'd hate to impose.”

“Captain Austin Syverson, you're not imposing.” You informed him, putting your foot down.

Sy's eyes widened and he gave you a half smirk. “I do love a woman that takes charge. Yes, ma'am, if you say so.”

“Besides, I'd love to see the Chiefs kick the Cowboys ass.” You added, teasingly.

“Oh, you're a traitor to your home state!” Sy gasped, horror on his face.

“Texas isn't my home state.” You giggled at him, then tisked. “Kansas isn't either, to be far.” You snorted, amused by the banter. “But I like Mahomes.”

“What's wrong with Dak Prescott?”

“Nothing! He's a great QB. I'm just a Chiefs girl.”

“I may have to call this Thanksgiving off.” Sy said, draining his whiskey glass and set it on the counter behind him and pushed off the edge. “To eat at the same table as a Chiefs girl, may just be too much for this ol' Texas boy.”

You were worried for a moment that Sy was genuine, and felt terrible for bringing it up, until you finally noticed the look in his eye and relaxed. He had a dry humor and pulled it out on you, catching you good.

“Shoot, you had me there.” You chuckled, breathy.

He winked at you, amusing you more with his cute double blink.

“Well,” You sighed, looking at the kitchen. “This is the kitchen.”

“A very nice kitchen.” Sy echoed, nodding and rubbing a hand over the counter top. “Nice and clean.”

“Thank you, I do my best.” You replied, bowing your head. “Out that way is the dining room, where we'll be having dinner.” You said, motioning to your right, and Sy peeked in, finding a long, glass table already set for three people with nice little autumn decorations as a centerpiece. “Over here, is the living room, where we'll probably be starting our football rivalry.”

You showed him into the living room, just as your mother came downstairs, in nothing but a pair of loose shorts, a tank top and an open bathrobe, a half glass of white wine clutched in her hand. You felt a cold shard of embarrassment go down your back. You had hoped, when you told her you were going to get Sy, she would have dressed into something—anything.

“Mom, this is Sy.” You told her, keeping your voice even. “Sy, this is my mother, Dana.” You introduced them, chewing the inside of your lip to bits.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma'am.” Sy greeted her politely, nodding his head kindly, like nothing was out of place.

She looked Sy over, taking a gulp of her wine. “How do you and my daughter know each other?” She inquired, lifting a brow at him.

You stiffened, you hadn't considered fielding that question from her while Sy was over.

“Work.” Sy said, casually.

“So, she's your accountant?” Dana pressed and showed no sign of easing off.

“I am.” You chimed in, hoping to get her to drop the subject and leave Sy alone.

“That she is.” Sy confirmed, backing you up. “Helps me out with my ranch.” He told Dana, tapping that belt buckle at his waist, bearing the Hook Hill Ranch logo on it.

“Hmm.” Your mother grunted, not sounding convinced. “Why aren't you spending Thanksgiving with your family?” She asked, giving Sy a hard look.

“Mom!” You snapped, horrified.

“It's all right.” He assured you, giving you a soft smile. “I'm an only child. I've never known my father and my mother ran off, when I was ten years old, leaving me to be raised by uncle, her brother. He had a heart attack three years ago, while milkin' his cows. So, it's just me and my dog, Aika, nowadays. Your daughter was kind enough to ask me over to your Thanksgiving dinner, and I accepted.”

“Satisfied?” You asked, annoyed your mother caused Sy to divulge such personal information.

Rolling her eyes, your mother turned in a flare of her bathrobe and headed back upstairs.

“Turkey will be done in an hour!” You called after her, with no reply. “I'm so sorry.” You said, turning back to Sy.

“It's okay.” He said softly, more concerned for you. “Is there anything I can do to help you finish up with dinner?”

“Um,” You tapped your foot. “No, I don't think so. Besides, you're my guest. You should relax.” You told him, waving over to the couch. “I can handle everything.” You assured him, rounding the arm of the couch to swipe the remote of the coffee table and turned the tv on, quickly finding the football game. “Ooh, Cowboys are beating the Chiefs by two points!” You hissed, casting a glance over your shoulder at Sy.

Sy moved to join you, holding your gaze. “I bet you a round of drinks, at a later time, that the Cowboys beat your Chiefs.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Syverson?” You asked, surprised.

“I am.” He admitted, unashamed.

“Then, you're on.” You grinned, giving him a cocky look. “But, if the Chiefs win, I want to see your ranch.”

“Bold.” Sy smirked, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I'll even cook for you.”

“Sold.” You agreed, extending your hand out to him.

He shook your hand, then sat down on the couch, getting comfortable to watch the game, while you returned to the kitchen. Pausing for a moment, you refilled his whiskey glass and took it out to him, giving him a soft smile as you set the cool glass down on a coaster and went back to prepping dinner. Sy watched you over the back of the couch, moving and bumping about, taking a deep breath and taking all the lovely smells of your hard work wafting towards him and making his belly rumble.

Lord have mercy, she's gorgeous.

“You sweet on my daughter?” Dana's voice came up behind him.

Sy's head swung around to look back at her, seeing she'd finally gotten dressed, now wearing a pair of black leggings and a loose, cream colored jumper, but no shoes or socks. “I just might be.” He answered, meeting her gaze head on. “She's a sweet, generous young lady.”

“Young lady, how old are you?” Dana huffed, dropping down into a recliner at the end of the couch.

“I'm thirty-eight.” Sy replied, with an odd amusement.

Dana looked Sy over, her gray eyes scrutinizing. “At least you're both in your thirties.” She huffed, curling her legs underneath her and glared at the tv.

What a curious woman. Sy blinked, shaking his head at her.

The two of them sat quietly, not speaking or interacting with each other any further. Which didn't bother either Sy or Dana. You peeked in at them from time to time, scurrying out to fill Sy's glass, whenever you noticed it was empty and always asking if he needed or wanted something, before vanishing back into the kitchen or dining room.

You wanted the dinner to be as great as possible for Sy, and your mother.

“Dinner is ready, everyone!” You declared, coming into the living room, glancing at the football score, discovering the Chiefs had recovered since the last time you'd entered, now ahead by four points.

“Smells delicious.” Sy complimented you, as he and your mother came into the dining room, finding the set table.

The turkey was juicy and golden-brown, slices already carved and on a plate beside it, with sides of stuffing, mashed potatoes, rolls and cornbread muffins, yams with marshmallows, peas and asparagus, accompanied with pecan and pumpkin pie. There were two decanters of red and white wine, a bottle of Ardbeg, and a pitcher of iced tea.

“Thank you.” You grinned with shy pride, biting the inside of your lip. “Sit wherever you like and dig in.” You said, motioning to the chairs around the table, before slipping into one.

Sy joined you, winking at you, as he picked up a plate and started helping himself, piling his plate with meat, rolls, yams and cornbread. “Mmm, this is amazing.” He hummed, nodding his head and chewing his mouthful of turkey and mashed potatoes.

You were giddy that Sy was so in love with your cooking, glancing towards your mother, who was at the end of the table. But found she was sipping a glass of red and nibbling on a buttered roll, to your slight dismay. Pushing the feeling away, you fixed your plate and dug in, moaning at how tasty it was.

“So, your team was winning.” Sy commented, giving you a side brow as he continued to eat.

“Yeah, I noticed.” You smirked, feeling bubbly, as you poured yourself some wine. “Looks like we'll be spending some more time together.”

“That it does.” He nodded, feeling your mother's eyes on him. “I'll have to show you the new foal that was born last week.”

A flood of excitement filled you, you loved the thought of seeing a baby horse. “Oh! I bet they're just the cutest thing on the planet!” You gushed, eyes bright with love already. “What did you name it?”

“Oh, I haven't named the little rascal, yet.” Sy laughed, watching you just gush. “Maybe, you could help me come up with a name for her?” He suggested, looking at you over the rim of his whiskey glass.

“Hmm.” You hummed, falling into a meditative state as you brewed over a name for the baby horse.

“So,” Dana cleared her throat, eyes narrowed between you and Sy. “You're a Rancher?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Sy nodded, turning to regard her, nothing by polite respect in his expression.

“How long have you been one?” She questioned, swirling the wine in her glass.

“Ranchin' has been in my family for generations.” Sy replied, not letting her trip him up. “My many great-grandfather came over from Ireland, just after the American Revolution. Then, when the Civil War happened, my family fought and were granted land at the end, for their service. We've been doing it ever since.”

“So, your family fought for the South.” Dana said bluntly, causing you to choke on your food.

“Mother.” You rasped, eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“No, ma'am.” Sy said coolly. “We fought for the North.” He told her, and left it at that.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked her slowly, eyes still wide and mouth agape.

“No.” She answered, getting up and leaving the room.

“I'm so sorry, Sy.” You stuttered, ashamed of your mother.

“It's all right, love.” He shook his head, wiping his hands on his napkin. “It's not your fault. It's not hers either, really.” He said softly. “She's mourning her son, and doing so takes the form in many ways. That's how your Ma is coping with your brother no longer being on this Earth.” He told you, resting back in his chair and fixing his blue eyes on you. “You're coping by going to support groups and trying to understand the kind people that he was, that he worked with, that he died surrounded by.”

You bit your lip, a lump of emotion strangling you and blurring your eyes; Sy was right. You wanted to be surrounded by those like your brother. It was like still having him there, in a way. You felt the strong, rough warmth of Sy's hand slip into yours, squeezing it and rubbing his thumb over your wrist as the two of you sat there, quiet and surrounded by your Thanksgiving feast.

“You know,” Sy spoke, breaking the silence. “I could actually use an accountant for my ranch.” He said, smirking over at you. “Plus, how about drinks at my place, while you figure out a new name for my foal? Who cares who wins the game.” He chuckled, arching a suggestive brow at you.

“Are you hinting at a sort of date, Syverson?” You asked, playfully thumb warred him.

“It's possible.” Sy laughed, letting you pin his thumb. “Maybe, I'll even cook you Christmas dinner.”

“Oh, I think I'd like that.” You told him, grinning, thankful you'd decided to host him for Thanksgiving.

#Syverson #Captain Austin Syverson #Thankful *fic*#Thankful #Viking-Raider Fics #Captain Syverson x Reader #Captain Syverson/Reader #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #Syverson x Reader #Syverson/Reader #Fluff #Cotton Candy Fluff #Thanksgiving #Thanksgiving Fic

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layraket · 4 months ago

Text

guys. i could say that im very normal abt the update. but that would be a lie. and lying is bad. yeah. im nothing close to normal abt this whole thing im deranged.

theres so many details here.

Time seems to be more calm, the last update he was at the verge of screaming (to shut them all? to call for help to control all these links? who knows) now he looks very thoughtful, taking in every detail of the whole place to see if he can get some sort of puzzle solved

This question i feel like it has more impact that it looks at first, a lot of people are pointing out the little owl friend we saw at the first doodles of the AU, yeah the owl in oot was a yapper in all rule, but he was some sort of guidance during his journey

Twilight connects the owls to Shad, a guy who has a lot of knowledge and can help him at any moment if he needs some sort of information, Four remembers the owl that helped the colors during his second adventure, and Legend connects the owls to the statues in Koholint, together with the owl that gave him hints to where he had to go

Here it is made clear the point that i was talking before: Time recognizes that even if, for a kid, it was just an anoying bird, he helped him in some sort of way, and he should appreciated that small detail

beautiful art there's so many birds here im delighted so happy i've been staring at this for already 6 minutes beautiful

Owlan! as someone who also has slept during class so many times i dont blame Sky at all

also can we talk about how cool is Owlan's design??? like why i haven't seen anyone commenting abt it???? the yellow feather just makes me thing of the loftwing that we had to chase during the start of sksw, and i love that small detail so much

and Sun!! Finally she got a canon apparition, and of course it is with Sky sleeping during class lol

going back with what i was saying before, yeah he can thank Kaepora Gaebora all he wants, but man did that bird talk so much

love that expression 10/10 no more notes needed

EMO RULIE EMO RULI-

putting that joke aside, Hyrule seems to be more careful inside a dungeon, sure he can try and explore all he wants outside, but he knows very well the dangers of a dungeon, and he would like to no take any risk that could put them in danger while he can help it

I love the continuity of the comic, we all knew these were the same statues as the one that Twi used to separate them from Sky, but seeing it being portrayed in the comic is a detail that i think we all appreciate

Twilight my guy you cant go and look all that innocent we know your tricks

also Sky still remembers that time, seeing Legend as a bunny will not be easily forgotten. And Legends knows it

it doesn't mean that he likes that little fact

here i have things to say, it makes sense that the antifairy goes first for Legend, he's like. one of the most magic-based of them. Sure maybe Hyrule is our special wizard guy, but the vet uses a shit ton of magic weapons, he has to have a crazy amount of magic with him adding the rings he has

Also them all ready to defend their vet, yeah it might not be fully dangerous, but they will show no mercy to whatever dares to hurt one of them (a silent promise that they all made with the Twilight situation)

Time's attention is instantly gained with the mention of a Fairy, he doesn't sees too much of his friends in that thing, and that gives him a bad feeling of why the name

i could easily do a well thought comment on how he's magical girl material but i think with only that description enough was said

Only with the thought of one of his fairy friends having such destiny makes Time be disgusted, a Fairy turned into an enemy? Doesn't sound right, it isn't natural and just cruel for the poor fairy

also Wind was ready to catch her, he knows how valuable are fairies during a dungeon, you never know when you will need her help

Warriors during his adventure he made friends with the fairies, so he obviously will have something for her

he's like a mom who knows her children very well and will carry any treats for them, not beating up the mom/aunt of the group allegations

and Wind give the poor fairy some time before entering the bottle, she must be confused :(

this last pannel is everything to me, very cool very beautiful i love thsi comic so much

now my fav pannels as usual!

beautiful art as always every time i see a new update i get surprised by all the details

if you noticed a lot of Four in the last few images shushhh

as always, art credits goes towards @linkeduniverse!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu update #lu update spoilers #lu chain #four was born to be a meme proof number 1:#lu analysis #i talk

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whatlovelybones-if · 1 year ago

Note

"the screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain" THE WHAT?! YOU DARE AVERY??? AND WTF J???

What would happen if MC and J were about to kiss, but MC suddenly stopped and just apathetically stared at them and said that they resented them for not being their first kiss, and just left? 😂😂

(Also, did MC have a some sort of relationship before the story began, or is that left for headcannon?)

it started with a simple statement.

“i won’t be riding back with you today,” J said.

you didn’t mind, not really. of course, you used to take every opportunity to spend time with them, but you could understand that they had their own life and sometimes their plans didn’t line up with yours.

“anything special you got planned?” you joked while closing your school locker, but you feel your insides wither and shrivel like a crumpled flower when they give you the actual reason.

“avery wanted to take me home today,” J said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal but the embarrassed pink on their cheeks give them away.

you had a feeling whatever was going to happen today, you wouldn’t be liking it at all. on top of that, J was acting weird as hell. not to mention that this avery person had been someone they’d been weirdly close the past couple of days.

you also happen to know that avery lived on the other side of town, completely off the route you and J took to get home every day. avery wasn’t just giving them a ride; it was something else. the more you thought about it, the more it sounded like a date. a motherfucking date.

you felt your heart starting to weigh three times heavier as you forced a smile and said, “oh, sure, that’s fine.” and then, before you could stop yourself, you found yourself stupidly asking, “so did they ask you out on a date or something?”

to save yourself the embarrassment and act nonchalant, you find yourself ruffling their hair slightly. if J noticed that you were forcing it, they didn’t let it show. instead they just laughed nervously, trying to fix their hair, and said, “actually, i was the one who ended up asking them out.”

wonderful. you wanted to scream, but you managed to give them the fakest smile you could. “i’m so happy for you.”

J picked up on the hint that maybe you weren’t feeling as happy as you’re saying you are because they asked, “are you alright, teddy?”

that nickname hurts even more now as you nod, “of course, why wouldn’t i be?”

one of J’s love languages has always been physical touch and everything just gets a lot more complicated; their hand on your back is warm, the inky dark eyes that stare back at you are kind and worried, the full pink lips that you wish to kiss look so inviting. they smell the same as always: leather, strawberries, spearmint, and marlboro red smoke masked by a fancy cologne/perfume.

“did i do something wrong?” J asks, looking like a kicked puppy.

you can’t stand it. the concerned look on J’s face as they ask you what’s wrong when everything is wrong right now. it’s wrong that they can’t see how much you love them. it’s wrong that they can’t see how loving them has become second nature for you. it’s wrong that they can’t see how you don’t want to be just their best friend.

knowing them, you know your best friend is probably imagining a thousand different scenarios of how they must’ve hurt you. but you know that they didn’t hurt you, they could never do that, at least not intentionally.

then you do it. you actually do it. one of the stupidest things you have ever done in your 15 years of existence.

you leaned in and kissed them.

the look on J’s face makes you wanna crawl into your own skin and die. their body had tensed up, their lips frozen open, parted but not uttering a sound. all of that was enough to tell you that it was fucking mistake. so you do the only thing that made sense to you at that moment: you turn and run outside like a fucking coward.

time seemed to slow down, each second stretching impossibly beyond normal. the only sound that could be heard was the rain. heavy, rhythmic, and coming down without pause. you don’t even feel the chill setting in as your whole body burns with the shame of what you did and the image of J’s reaction only makes your skin crawl more.

stupid, stupid, stupid!

you run across the parking lot to get to your car and book the hell out of the school campus. you utter a loud curse when you check your pockets and realise you left your car keys in your locker.

you’re soaked to the bone and you aim a swift kick at your car; panting like you just ran a marathon, hair sticking to your neck and cheeks, heavy breathing pushing your chest up and down, your face wet from both the rain and your tears.

tears? no, you’re not wrong, you can feel the saltiness mixing up with the rain and pouring down your face. you haven’t cried in forever. at least not in a genuine way.

why in the world did it have to J of all people that you had to fall for? they had been your best friend since you were kids, always a constant and comforting presence in your life. almost a decade of friendship down the drain because of your stupid feelings. it wasn’t worth it at all to lose your best friend like this.

your best friend who’s now calling your name. a yell in the distance muffled by the sound of the rain and of your breaking heart. your breath hitches but you ignore them. there’s no way you can face them, not right now.

“for god’s sake, you can’t just kiss me and walk away! hey!” J yells out.

“go away, J! i really don’t want to talk to you right now.”

they catch up to you, refusing to let you run off again. “and why is that, hm?”

“i don’t know!” you answer, throwing up your hands in exasperation. “i’m ignoring you right now.”

“well,” J continues to stubbornly come closer, “i am ignoring the fact that you’re ignoring me.”

you give them a glare. “that’s not how it works.”

J matches your challenging glare. “fine then. tell me why you kissed me and i will leave you alone.”

“i kissed you because i love you, you daft dumbo!” you nearly yell, frustrated beyond reason. ignoring the dumbfounded look on J’s face, you continue, “i’ve loved you ever since we were kids. i love your eyes and how they sparkle like stars when you’re talking about music. i love your voice and how it soothes me whenever i’m having a hard time. i love how you know me and know exactly what to say to make me feel better whenever and wherever. i just love you so much and i cannot stand the thought of you with avery. i will get over this though, J, just give me some ti—”

in a heartbeat, they lean in and their lips are on yours. you can’t help the gasp which slips out of your mouth, too surprised, too tense, and J holds your face dearly like you’re something precious, pressing your lips and body against theirs with something akin to desperation. both of you so entirely soaked from the rain, so entirely frightened, so entirely in love.

when the kiss ends, it’s because both of you are completely out of breath. J doesn’t let the space between the two of you grow any further, though. they instead press themselves further against you, your bodies fitting like perfect puzzle pieces.

“don’t get over me,” they plead, the taste of strawberry in your mouth, forehead against yours, dark eyes fluttering close. “don’t ever get over me.”

“b-but,” you stutter, head still spinning, “what about avery?”

J groans, following it up with a chuckle. “one date and i think even they’d be able to see it.”

“see what?”

“how you are the one i’m in love with.”

before you can even process what they just said, they lean in again to seal it with a kiss.

#asks #wow this was longer than i’d planned #an AU where everything went perfectly and they were high school sweethearts?#this is my late christmas gift to J romancers #also yeah you can headcanon if MC has dated someone in the past #what lovely bones #ro: j park #bonnie nonnie #ro scenarios #interactive fiction #interactive story #ch: the killer #interactive game #ignore the typos lmao 💀

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yooms-posts · 2 years ago

Text

God gave us two hands, two legs, two eyes, and two ears, but just one heart so that we could find the second and today I found my pair in you.

Characters: miles morales (both earth 1610 and 42), gwen stacy, hobie brown, pavitr prabhakar

Pairings: all of them x gn reader (separate)

Reader: gn reader

notes: reader is around the age of the charcaters don't be weird, mentions of fights and blood, reader could be seen as a person who speaks Spanish for miles, contains some spoilers for atsv

genre: fluff with a hint of angst 🤏

_________________________________

Before that look at this edit‼️ ITS SO DKDKOSJSIWB GO SHOW LOVE AND SUPPORT TO THE CREATOR

Miles morales (1610)

he is such a sweetheart fr 🤞

definitely gets nervous and shy when entering a relationship with you

his love language is definitely acts of service, physical touch and giving gifts

is shown in the movies that miles is a very good artist, I'm sure he'll give you a very precious gift made by himself

need help with anything? he's there trying too help, homework is getting difficult for you? he's ready to teach you easier methods

holding your hand to keep you close? you got it babe

i feel like he likes to kiss your forehead as a sign of affection

in moments of vulnerability, he would place his forehead against yours

meeting his parents of course, family means a lot too him

his mom and dad may be wary of you (sorry), but they start too loosen up when you interact with them more

they could tell that you were the right one for miles, and they couldn't be any happier

that was wayyyy before you knew he was spiderman

why? because he thought it may make you view him differently

after all he couldn't keep it from you, you were one of the important people in his life (and he was running out of excuses why sometimes he has to leave earlier on dates)

it was definitely some sort of a shock! being spidermans s/o? crazyyy

have i mention dates when the both of you sit at very high buildings? dont worry he's watching out for you

miles just swinging while you hold him tightly for dear life

helping to patch him up after a fight while scolding him for being reckless sometimes

sometimes he has to comfort you when you realise you could lose him due to his duties

best date views, best atmosphere

the both of you just leaning on each other, wrapped in a blanket watching the sunset? yea thats the life...

both of you making nicknames for each other

he would call you: mi luz (my light), bebé

*if you aren't familiar with spanish, you would definitely pester him and ask him for the meaning

you would call him: lindo (cutie), mi hombre (my man) if your feeling slightly playful, babe

trading clothings is common

his jacket? suddenly your in possession of it, your shoes or clothes that fit him? it's his turn to wear it

lots of photos taken, whether its good or questionable (you accidentally spilled water on him) it will be kept in his phone

Gwen stacy

i remember seeing her and questioning myself fr 🏳️‍🌈

anyways, your very precious to her i dont make the rules

like miles, nervous and shy when entering a relationship but leaning towards nervous

her love language is definitely acts of service and quality time

being spiderwomen definitely brings a challenge to the relationship

thats why quality time is very precious to her, any time your together is makes her happy

it doesn't have to be anyone talking or doing anything, she just want to be with you

acts of service? if you ever mention that you need something, she'll pick it up own her way back

kissing is very rare but when it does happen it always on the knuckles of your hand or on your cheek

inviting you over to her house for dinner, which lead to you meeting her dad, peter and aunt may

of course her dad approves you, he notice how she lits up even more around you

but after the incident where gwen loses peter, she unintentionally shuts everyone out

it causes a riff in your relationship because all you want to do is help but she's pushing you away

it got into an argument between the two of you and she accidentally slipped out that she's the heroine

that was the reason she was pushing you away, scared and afraid you might be next

comfort her, hold her, tell her that you aren't going anywhere, she needs that comfort

the relationship became better and stronger slowly

same thing as miles, you patching her up and muttering she shouldn't be too reckless

dates with her are always exciting, she would be showing you places where only her could acces due to her spider abilities

nicknames are the regular ones between the both of you

you would call her: my girl, babe and wifey (as a joke to tease her)

she would call you: dear, bae

its shown that she leaves her sweater/jackets in other people's room soooo...

yea, leaving her stuff at your room and taking it back a few days later

technically making it yours too, i dont make the rules 🤷‍♀️

Hobie brown

i wish british people are real 😔

i wanna say it would be a 'you fallen first but he fall harder' type of scenario

like it's impossible to not fall in love with him a little

love language? it's got to be words of affirmation and giving gifts

he would be those types who would be able to tell that somethings bothering you

he would reassure you if you ever feel bad about yourself or have bad days, he would be there to boost your confidence

remember how he made his own version of the watch to travel different dimensions?

then get ready for him to present to you self made gifts for you

whether it's like a pin or a accessory, he puts a lot of love and thought into it

he gives me the type to lazily pepper kisses on your face teasingly

but if he needs the comfort or other way round, one of you would cradle the others face and kiss the other

going to shows and pubs for entertainment

definitely invites you to watch his show, if you are there you bet his eyes stays on you

him casually entering your house (with your permission!!) at the most weirdest time

around 2am he's knocking on your window so you could help with with bandaging

the first time that happens is when you didn't know of his secret identity which worried you

fights don't really occur between the two of you since he knows what to say and not to say if things get heated

since gwen sometimes crashes at his dimension, she would have probably meet you

it's like a sibling bond between you and her, you sometime lend her your clothes and she tries to help around in the house

im not sure what his actual age is tho...if you know please tell me, its confusing some said he's around gwens and miles age some said he's 19-20

if he is 19-20, you and him would probably be like the older brother and older sibling to gwen

which later on include miles too (miles heard how kind-hearted you are when talking to gwen)

to be honest, eveytime your with him it feels like a date

he's unpredictable at times, making it exciting to figure out what he plans on the date

nicknames is common between the two of you

his nicknames for you: love, darling and hun (he rarely calls you that, it happens when he is sarcastically teasing you)

your nicknames for him: sweetheart, B (since his name is hoBie yk?) and babe

if your open to different types of clothing style, he would lend you his jacket

the both of you would trade small accessories with different styles to match each other

Pavitr prabhakar

my cutie patotie fr ( not trying to baby him in anyway!! he's just precious in my eyes)

he is so sweet and polite to everyone, so i wouldn't blame you if you fall for him

you know those confession letters? he would probably leave one at your locker

very understanding if you dont feel ready for any PDA at the start of your relationship

physical touch is his main love language followed by words of affirmation

if you are okay with being held, get ready to be held by him

his arms wrapped around your side and arms, he likes to hover near you to hold you

holds your hand almost everywhere and most of the time

he has a way with words definitely, he knows exactly how to make you laugh, how to make you smile or how to jokingly tease you

you mean the world to him, of course he would notice little things about you

definitely giggles when kissing you, whether it's on the cheeks or the tip of your nose

introducing you to his aunt, which she takes a liking to you :)

bringing some food made by his aunt to share with you

you already had suspicion that he was spiderman, you didn't say anything cause he looks so proud when keeping it a secret

eventually it ends up with him spilling it since he gets cuts the next day without proper excuses

which led you to remind him to care himself when doing patrols

proudly showing you off to people, your just amazing to him really

dates with him is very calming and stress-free

like doing each other's face mask or shopping for things together etc

nicknames has got to be cute for you two (or purposely cringy to get the other to not pay for the meal)

his nicknames for you: baby, babe, bae or my s/o

your nicknames for him: pav, my s/o or darling

i feel like he won't mind lending you his clothes, just give him a heads up first

like it could be his tie that you found cute or his pants that fits you nicely

Miles morales (42)

his whole design was just so sick and just so hdisbosjso?!

him and you? yea you wish...that actually came true congratulations ‼️‼️

it takes a long time to be his friend but as a partner? even longer but it's worth it

he just have issues like lots of them, he's got to know if he could depend on you for help

take your time and slowly tear his walls down, show him your trustable and reliable

his language would range from acts of service, words of affirmation and physical touch

physical touch is a 50/50 with him though, you have to reassure him it's fine if he doesn't want to show PDA

acts of service is definitely his strongest love language

for example, if he notice your too tired to do something he would wordlessly do it for you

do the same for him! he would deeply appreciate it

if you ever have bad days, dont worry he would be there telling you interesting stuff to distract you from it

once your relationship is secure and good, he introduce you to his mom and uncle

his mom already had a feeling that he was seeing someone by the way she notice he slightly smile at a text on his phone

when you meet them, his mom would welcome you with open arms

asking you if you have eaten the typical mother things you know?

his uncle though? he intimates you at first, once he notice you were good for miles he let's loose slowly

likes to kiss your hand generally, like the knuckles and palms

if he feels a little more bold, he likes to tease you by kissing the corners of your lips and ghosting above your lips before pretending nothing happened

that prowler business? you were bound to find out sooner or later

he trust you a lot, he asks you too sit down with him to properly explain why sometime he doesn't show up to dates early

that would be a massive relief for you, you were getting worried that he's starting to loose interest

which you have to mess up big time for his trust and loyalty for you to dissappear (don't)

dates would take place at the rooftops, blankets laid down with snacks to watch the sunset

you cant tell me he would have a soft smile glancing at you from time to time while watching the sunset

seeing that his spanish is more noticeable than miles 1610, his nicknames for you are all in spanish

his nicknames for you: mi cielo (my sky/heaven) , mi corazón (my heart)

*if you aren't familiar with spanish, you would probably try and search up the meaning before asking him

your nicknames for him: guapo (handsome), cariño or mi amor (my love)

i feel like he likes small accessories from you when trading clothing

it's like a reminder to him that his yours and your his

probably brings it with him everywhere he goes

________________________________

Wooo im finally done!! If theres any spelling mistakes tell me. I hope you enjoyes yourself. Im thinking of writing more itsv/atsv if i have time. Let me know what you think. :)

#into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #miles morales #gwen stacy #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #Spotify #miles morales x reader #gwen stacy x reader #hobie brown x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #prowler miles #prowler miles x reader

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littlemissthunderstorms · 1 year ago

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wavin bye to the train or the bus

wpsiatwin!alex x reader

basically a fic based off that one part of the song where he’s like “i’m wanting to do you a swap, i’ll give you anything in return for those noises you’ve got. i can see you want to be attended to count to 29 i’ll attend to you oh for sure.” yeah.

warnings- drool, being eaten out, all that jazz!

———

his hand on your stomach. alex’s warm palm tucked against your lower stomach was all you could think about when he cuddled up to you about 10 minutes ago.

you fixated on his fingers and how they splayed out across the span of skin, how if he’d just move them down a little farther, past the hem of your underwear, they’d satisfy your needs so well.

you’d been like this all day, staring at him from across the living room, wondering how he’d feel pressed up against you, wondering how he’d sound when you kissed that span of stomach that tended to show whenever he’d lift his arms, the dark blue cotton revealing hints and peaks of his v-line.

spooning you from behind, with his nose tucked into your hair, he could sense your arousal from your heartbeat, beating through the silence. he also had come to know you well in that aspect, picking up on the change in the energy of the room, the way you were quieter, your cheeks a little flushed and eyes glassy.

he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, making you shiver a bit. he ran his guitar string calloused fingertips over your bare shoulder, planting another featherlight kiss there. he sat up, slowly swinging a leg around you and positioning so that he was balanced over you.

you raised your eyebrows a bit, smiling up at him knowingly. he watched your gaze tentatively for a moment, and then smiled back, a humorous glint in his eye. you turned from your previous position on your side so that you were on your back.

sneaking your hands underneath the hem of his shirt, you ran your palms along his back. goosebumps evoked from your touch, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily. and with that, he leaned down and kissed you. it was quiet, soft, and slow. he made a little snuffling sound and then brought his hand up to your face, cradling your cheek and angling your face so that he could keep your mouth as close to his as possible.

you made a little whining sound onto his lips, desperate for some sort of relief between your legs. you slung one leg around his hips, signaling to him. he pulled away a bit, eyes still shut. “i know, i know,” he mumbled, voice holding a small rasp. “i’m so impatient alex, i can’t help it,” you chuckled softly, running your hands up his arms. he smirked, whispering in your ear, “count to 29.”

“29? why not 30?” you questioned. he looked at you, sitting up. rolling his tongue around the inside of his cheek, a slight blush crept across his face as he thought for a moment. “lets see, it’ll take about 15 seconds to kiss down to your stomach, bout’ 10 to take those pants off, and then another 4 till i’m going down on you. by 29, i don’t think you’ll be able to get out a 30.”

you raised your eyebrows, flustered. “you’re a fucking idiot.” he bit his lip, eyes flickering up and down over you in a way that made your stomach flip. your smile faded a bit, heart thumping loudly. you started to count. “1.” he quickly scrambled, and by 4 he was tossing your bra to the floor.

6, he licked over your breast, eyes stuck onto yours the whole time. 7, you tangled your fingers into his short hair as he sucked your nipple into his warm mouth, fingertips tracing over your sides. 8, you let out a pathetic gasp when he bit the flesh between your breasts, soothing it over with a lick. 10, alex slowly started making his way down, taking his time as he kissed and licked your soft skin, nuzzling his nose into your stomach.

14, he left open mouthed kisses to where his hand had been earlier, dangerously close to where you needed him most. by 16, he was hastily unzipping your jeans, sliding them down your thighs and throwing them behind him without any caution, chuckling a bit when they hit your desk, toppling over a few lipsticks.

24, he now hooked his fingers in the elastic of your panties, sliding them down your legs. 26, he threw them on the floor, spreading your legs some more so he’d have room to nestle in between them. “28,” you whispered. he smiled up at you “let me hear all those pretty noises you’ve got.”

once you muttered a “29,” he was already lapping at your clit, not holding back or starting slow, immediately delving in. you gasped and whimpered, his earlier words ringing true. as stupid as it was, you were to blissed out to even care to mumble a 30. your hand immediately flew to his head again, short hair slipping in between your fingers.

his tongue darted in your hole, lapping up the arousal that dripped down onto the sheets. he groaned into your pussy in rhythm with his movements, evoking a breathy, high pitched moan out of you. “alex,” you sighed, hips involuntarily rocking against his face.

he suckled your clit into his mouth, swirling his toungue around your heat and soothing the ache with open mouthed kisses. he seemed as eager as you, fingertips pressing against your thighs so he’d keep you right where he wanted, his hips slowly grinding against the bed.

you’d never been built up this fast. you were so desperate, so needy all day that you were a moaning, dripping, squealing mess when you finally got what you wanted. alex rocked his erection into the mattress, unable to resist how much eating you out turned him on. he groaned into your clit, impossibly aroused by the lustful whimpers that escaped your lips, accompanied by soft gasps of his name every now and then.

you squealed rather loud when his fingers came into play, slowly starting to pump inside you while his tongue toyed with your clit. you were panting, eyes watering as you moaned and writhed. you could feel him smirk against you, his fingers brushing your walls, his disheveled hair tickling your stomach, it all felt so good.

he detached his mouth from you for a second, using his other hand to spread your legs wider, bringing his fingers to part your puffy folds. you hissed when the cool air hit your clit, wriggling a bit. he grinned, eyes locked onto yours and a strand of drool fell from his open mouth onto your clit, dripping down to your hole and you swore your eyes rolled back into your skull. holy fuck.

immediately, alex was licking at your clit again, fingers still in a v shape, spreading you apart. his thick fingers continued their movements inside you, filling you up and curling inside you. “al, m gonna cum,” you whined, mascara staining your cheeks.

“thas’ alright baby, let it out, good girl,” he cooed, voice muffled by your pussy. and just like that you came, screaming his name as you pushed his face against you, grinding your hips against his nose. he grunted into you as you squeezed his fingers, his mouth lapping up your release.

once your high started to diminish, you squealed a bit at the overstimulation, pushing his face away. he removed his fingers, a strand of arousal that connected them to your hole snapping as he pulled them away. he ran his other hand up and down your stomach as to soothe you, brown eyes locking onto yours as he sucked his fingers clean. you let out a soft little sigh at the action. he looked so adorable, his eyes all watery, mouth slick with your arousal and nose and cheeks all rosy and pink. you smiled, pulling him down against you.

he nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving a few soft kisses there. his jeans were about to tear at the seams from how angry his erection was, and you could feel it against your leg. you hastily unbuckled his belt, moving to unzip his jeans when he tried to shake your hand away. “no no, s’ fine. you just relax.”

you shook your head. “no baby, please let me help you,” you pouted, batting your eyelashes. not needing much convincing, he complied and you smiled, a flutter of excitement coursing through you.

you’d been thinking about it all day, how much you wanted to suck him off. you fantasized just going over to him while he was playing guitar, kneeling and letting your mouth work on him while he continued to play, fumbling with the strings and getting the chords wrong as you slobbered all over him.

29 seconds later and your mouth was soft velvet, incased over him. his moans were desperate, high pitched. his fingers went to grasp the baby pink ribbon your now messy hair was tied in, unintentionally loosening it with his grip.

you took as much of him as you could into your mouth, stroking what you couldn’t fit with your delicate hands. nothing about it was neat. you hair brushed his thighs, drool dribbled down his length, your nose nudged against his stomach, and soon enough salty hot cum bursted down your throat, making your eyes water. you swallowed it all, kitten licking his tip slowly when a few more droplets came out.

his snuffles and whimpers came to an end and he pulled you up on top of him, kissing your mascara stained cheek and running a hand through your mussed hair. his heartbeat was frantic against yours, soft little pants puffing out of his lips. you kissed him softly, nudging your nose against his cheek.

“my favorite girl..” he whispered, a little out of breath and your stomach fluttered. you smiled, resting your face against his shoulder and closing your eyes, his arms tight around your middle.

this was one of your favorite moments, laying on top of alex, his breath soft against your hair, his body heat melting into yours, his nose all rosy, cheeks warm and flushed. the silence was peaceful, and intimate. and even when the days weren’t so perfect, this moment always would be.

———

HII thanks for reading!!! i love u guys thank you for all your love and support 😢 i really hope you enjoyed💓

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed)- @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567 @blair-s-world @rentsturner @indierockgirrl @kittyrob0t @averyzversi0n @michelleisheres-blog @kennedy-brooke @madeinuk @mathdebate00

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #humbug #alex turner fluff #alex turner one shot #suck it and see #tlsp #alex turner smut #wpsiatwin

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monstersinthecosmos · 3 months ago

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Vamptember Day 14 - Free Day

{puscifer - bullet train to iowa}

tapestries & tile - part ii

“Was he like that when he was alive?” Daniel asks.

He rubs over the new skin on his throat, still pink from healing. Eyes glassy as he searches Marius’s face. A car horn drifts up from the avenue, and someone laughing, and it trills through the buzz in Marius’s blood.

“You know the answer to that,” Marius answers. He licks Daniel’s blood from his teeth, and pulls him close, just embracing him for a moment as his heart slows down to normal. “You’ve seen it.”

Daniel chuckles, and Marius feels the pulse of shyness ripple over him. Something playful, with no shame. Just that he was sort of asking Marius to show him. He wants to see.

“He was submissive with me, you know that,” Marius says gently. “I think he wanted as much with you, as well, but he couldn’t let himself.”

There’s a wet-warm kiss to the corner of Marius’s jaw, and Daniel’s hands stroke up and down Marius’s back. Like foreplay, the way he hesitates, luring Marius to say more. It probably works. Brings the memories closer to the surface. More vivid in Marus’s brain whenever Daniel is ready to drink.

“He was…” Marius pauses under the press of Daniel’s tongue as he kisses downward, tracing the artery in Marius’s neck, “…bratty.”

“You liked him bratty.”

“Mmhmm. The irony is that I think he was often the one in charge, you know. He liked provoking me.”

The tips of Daniel’s fangs tease over Marius’s skin, but don’t break through just yet. It’s his way of begging, Marius thinks.

“You’re just like him,” Marius mumbles, but it makes him smile. He tilts his head back, to give Daniel more space, and watches the stars through the pink light pollution.

Daniel squeezes Marius’s ass and drags them closer together. Their groins grind impotently together, like some leftover human urge.

“I think sometimes he saw himself in you,” Marius adds. “It’s like he wanted to see what it was like, having the human lover. Processing his mortal life five hundred years too late.”

He’s never said as much out loud, and they’ve never talked about that part. It must be obvious, though. All the times they’ve pulled away from each other, the blood barely swallowed and still coating the insides of their mouths, all those visions still fresh. It’s impossible not to notice. All the times Armand played along like a little manikin, trying on a role the way he might try on his father’s clothes.

Daniel bites down.

Primordial rush of pain, no matter how old Marius gets. Something breaching all the age and power. His body, the Blood, instinctually knows its being drained, but when it’s intimate like this the panic just feels erotic.

He closes his eyes, thinks of Daniel on his knees in a dirty club bathroom. Conjures Amadeo the same way.

Strange, how these cycles can grow. Marius wonders, for a moment, if he learned it somewhere, too. And there’s a hint of it, just a wisp, remembering the soldier he lost his virginity to. One of his father’s friends, and the little smack he’d laid into Marius’s cheek to get his mouth to open.

But no, no. Daniel doesn’t care about all that. Marius grinds his teeth, tries to focus, imagines the bedroom in Venice.

Amadeo, on his knees by the fireplace, just close enough that the heat is starting to hurt. His arms are outstretched at his sides and shaking with strain, but he’s too stubborn to yield.

“He’s always been a fool,” Marius moans quietly. He means it affectionately, and knows that Daniel understands. He slips a hand into Daniel’s back pocket, holding him there as the blood drains. “He’s tried to find God in everyone he’s ever cared about.”

That’s all it had been, really. Marius knew it then, too, because Amadeo’s sweaty little thoughts were always so loud. The way he liked being put into place, the way he craved it. On the floor, his knees aching and thighs trembling, shoulders screaming for respite. Marius stood over him, unmoving, the pain flooding the space around them. It drew itself across his face, the tense jaw, the way the light was going out from his eyes.

Almost there.

“He liked it,” Marius breathes.

Amadeo whimpers. A spasm runs through his arm, struggling to hold the pose. Marius wonders how long he’d last crawling through a labyrinth.

Small down there on the floor, his hair a mess, face glowing with the sheen of sweat. Lip quivering as the word please stutters over and over in his mind. Never out loud, though, and Marius stares down at him, waiting for it. It could be over if he’d just ask, but he’s too obsessed with suffering.

Craving punishment, and craving mercy. So many nights like this, needling at Marius until he got his way. Marius doesn’t remember the farce anymore, and knows he barely remembered in the moment. Wasn’t actually angry with him and hadn’t seen the need for a punishment. Just indulged him, because Amadeo wanted it.

Looking for God, on his knees, in so much pain that he can barely remember himself.

The sweet spot he liked to go to, where he could float in it. Marius waits, just a little longer, feeling for the way it sweetens the air in the room. The way Amadeo’s jaw goes slack. The way his eyes glaze over.

“Amadeo,” Marius says. He keeps his voice stern, because it’s part of the game, and runs his fingers through Amadeo’s curls. His eyes roll upwards, towards the ceiling, trying to follow his master’s voice. “You have not earned the Sacrament.”

Was he like this when he was alive? Daniel had asked, and Marius sees them both for a moment. Armand’s face, flickering here, unchanged and yet completely foreign. Cold and eerie, dead beneath the surface, where Amadeo is throbbing with tender life. Amadeo’s tear-filled eyes and thick lashes, and Armand’s haunting serenity.

Marius presses his fingers to their lips, slipping two inside. Nails clicking against their teeth, then scratching gently at the roof of their mouth.

“Open,” he says softly. “Obey.”

Pink tongue licking across his knuckles, and he leaves a shining streak across their skin as he pulls out. It shines in the firelight and they whimper as they resist the instinct to wipe it away.

“Good,” Marius tells them. Seeing both of them, like one is the shell of the other. He bleeds into Daniel and wishes he could reconcile them.

But he leans forward. Leans in closer. Lets the saliva pool in his mouth as they squirm in impatience.

Just Amadeo again, though, as it’s time. Broken little thing, open and waiting for Communion as Marius spits into him.

“Disgusting,” he mutters, and doesn’t mean it, but knows Amadeo likes it. Likes how it prickles on the back of his neck and twists in his stomach. Likes the coldness Marius feigns. He blinks up innocently as he swallows.

Please, please, he’s thinking, but won’t say out loud. Please. Again.

#vamptember #armand #daniel molloy #marius de romanus #marius/armand #marius/daniel #stuff i wrote #vampire chronicles

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theside-b · 2 months ago

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We really are living the Era of hustling gays on the BL-sphere. But who would’ve thought that Hwang Da Seul would be the one bringing duplicitous characters to KBLs?

The first half of the show plays all the expected beats from the director-writer: somber mood, grounded and realistic approach, intimate shots and this cold and harsh atmosphere, but I must say that when it comes to the craft this might be her best yet. Da Seul has technically never been better, the framing, angles, close-up shots, lighting, volume, you can tell she is doing the absolute most with very little she is given. The contrast between this and Where Your Eyes Lingers is striking, it’s amazing seeing how much she evolved since then.

Story wise, this is also a different one. Because while the first part could easily be taken as To My Star 2 depressed cousin the second half devolves into something entirely new and unique.

The moment Dohoe and Juyeong meet again something feels off, and not just because Dohoe vanished for twelve years. Yes, there is baggage between them, one dragging the past around and the other wanting nothing to do with it, but there is something more lurking around. Hints of what could be happening are slowly dropped along the way, other turns come without warning, the story being told here is still a novelty for KBLs.

Korean dramas as whole tend to depict perfect characters whose biggest flaws can be overcome or erased with the power of love. It’s not the case here. If anything, it’s the power of love that detonates the boys’ relationship and shows a different side of Dohoe that most didn’t see it coming when the series started. Juyeong was predictable for most of the run — the revelation that he knew everything about the scam was a nice curveball — and while we all expected Dohoe to change, seeing him take a dark turn was a (delicious) surprise.

He doesn’t make excuses, he has an evil side: Scamming his way to place where nobody bothers to look into his past, the series shows the many moments where he could’ve easily taken a different path, the openings to come clean with Juyeong, dragging Hyeon Ho with him and not letting go while knowing that he is just stringing him along. He could’ve cleared the mess he created, but as we know, he is committed to what he sets his mind to, it all boils down to him running from the past. None of that would’ve worked on the hands of a lesser actor; Nu Rim (in his first protagonist) and Seon (in his acting debut) are together another Da Seul staple: Couple oozing chemistry.

Whenever they meet in the first half the mood lifts, when they see each other in the second part the pressure rises and when Hyeon Ho is with them the tension skyrockets. Again, Da Seul has never been better behind the camera, she gets everything from them, every single emotion. But the show is not without it’s faults. My biggest gripe is with the time-jump, the twelve years gap felt like made mostly for shock value, could’ve been easily trimmed down, because such long spam of time required quite the suspension of disbelief in order for me to buy certain aspects and plot points. The show also tries to handle one particular storyline that doesn’t quite land for me.

Juyeong and Dahoe’s father relationship is very interesting. Abuser and victim find common ground and something changes, but we don’t see how that happens or how it come to happen, not fully. We get an idea, but that’s about it. Many saw it as some sort of redemption for the father. Personally, I didn’t read like that, there was no redemption for him, he was like that, violent, uncompassionate, desensitized and egoistical to the bitter end, the one element that left me curious was if he was really okay with having Juyeong as his son-in-law, they allude to this, the old bastard implies as much, but it’s left implicit, and then he dies. Oh well.

There is also the plot with the kid and the abusive parents. It was interesting having Dohoe dealing with that, but there is just so much happening that this particular storyline felt like an afterthought, so much so that it took me a bit by surprise when it resurfaced in the final moments.

That said, this one goes down the books as another solid entry in Da Seul’s filmography. That woman is always ready to put viewers through the wringer, and they will be happy to let her do so.

#let free the curse of taekwondo #bl review #enough gay suffering!#we need more scammers!

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cyyfics · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Can I request dating hc’s for Betty?

—————

Betty Dating Hc’s

Paring: Betty x reader

Warning(s): NSFW! At end.

Note; yes! I’m so glad someone requested this I love Betty sm

Double note: IM SCARED TO WRITE HER CHARACTER WRONG IM NGL I’m kinda scared I did

—————

SFW

- when you two meet for the first time you start out as great friends, for some reason the woman attracted you from the very beginning however.

- you found that you love her eyes, wherever she looks your gaze has to follow, you could get lost in them forever-

- betty started to find herself growing flustered at times when you two were together, a random blush creeping onto her face, or a slight stammer in her words. It wasn’t hard to tell that she was starting to really like you.

- she’d talk about you to her friends or just anyone who would listen, making silly comments sometimes like “we looked into each other’s eyes in the bookstore.”

- you two would hang out to discuss nerdy topics together, giggling on your couch while sipping from your mugs. She would rave to you in a way- about her favourite books, her theories, things she’s seen. It was all very amusing.

- she’s sorta delusional. but she’s also not. definitely not actually, but she definitely acts like it at times.

- sometimes you’d try to give her some sort of hint you liked her, simple things like being slightly more affectionate or going out of your way to make her laugh. She never really saw your advances, not until you actually confessed to her.

- on other times, she’d like to try and give a hint to YOU which you wouldn’t notice either. She would try to impress you with knowledge over random things, she’d try and say something to make you smile, or laugh.

- some days, you two would get caught up. Sitting outside watching the sky, and all of a sudden the two of you are now holding hands. Not a word is said but there’s meaning to it, to this very moment.

- not long after that had happened, you felt like some sort of weight was carried from your shoulders. You felt breezy, happy, you couldn’t be more confident. And confident you were, you knew you had to confess.

- betty was actually having a very similar feeling, on the way to tell you and about to knock on your front door- when you pull it wide open and begin to step out. The two of you knock into each other sending you tumbling backwards onto your arse.

- “oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- i’m so clumsy-“ Betty furrowed her eyebrows as she hurriedly grabbed at your hand and attempted to pull you up, only somehow ending up on the ground beside you. The two of you laughed, sharing the moment together.

- “what made you come here in such a rush?” You would ask her “I just came to tell you something, actually.” Betty rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly before huffing and wearing a newfound confidence “I like you. A lot.” Betty announces.

- you were happy, you were confused, you were happy though. “Really? You do?”

- she loves cuddling with you. She will have you lie down on top of her while you’re both either lying on the couch or sitting up in bed.

- she likes it when you play with her hair, it really makes her smile. You will play with it a lot absent-mindedly, not even realising what you’re doing half the time.

- she will get into whatever you’re into, or she will at least try to. You like a show? She’s watching it. You like a book? She’s reading it. You’re into cars? And suddenly she will be studying them closely.

- she will give you a lot of compliments just out of nowhere, she will see you when you’ve just woken up and tell you you’re beautiful. She will compliment things you’re doing as well, saying you’re doing great when you’re preparing food or even vacuuming.

- she likes to hold your hand in public, it’s just a sweet romantic gesture for her - as well as a way to make sure neither of you wander off. Occasionally in the past, the two of you would sometimes get curious seeing something and would quietly wander away, freaking out the other.

- she loves doing thrilling things with you! Cliff diving, deep sea diving, roller coasters.. you name it, the two of you did it.

- she will take you on many dates. Many.

- she will show you all the places she knows of that she thinks you might like, maybe a spot in this forest, or a simple pond you didn’t know existed nearby your house.

—————

NSFW (Neutral Bit)

- she loves it when you touch her boobs, like I’m sorry but it’s true. She loves it, she lives off it. you will both just be doing something and then suddenly your hand will be resting on her chest, she loves it.

- she likes it when you kiss her neck, suckling on the skin leaving dark red and purple marks. she likes the sting of it afterwards too. after sex she will be looking at the marks for hours in the mirror, her fingers trailing over the darkest spots and hissing from the slight pain - that she couldn’t help enjoying.

- grab her hips. do it.

- I think she’d totally be a switch, doing either one depending on how you felt.

- she likes seeing you in lewd positions, even in everyday situations where you’re not even trying to be sexy- like when you’re bent down on the floor looking for something, or on your knees for something.

- always trying to find new ways to please you, ranging from trying tricks she’s read about - or heard about, to trying out a new kink.

- she’s an experimentalist. Totally is. She would try anything at least once- or twice.

- she loves riding. Idgaf, wether you’ve got your own cock or you’re wearing a strap. She loves to just sit on top of you and grind her hips against it.

- likes to do a lot for play.

- she will tease you heaps. Heaps. Her hands may graze your upper thigh, she may already be between your legs denying you of your orgasm, she may be degrading you as you whine against her- it doesn’t matter. She finds excuses to do it all the time, and then lie and say she was doing something innocent “I didn’t just graze my hand over your crotch, I was-.. dusting you.”

NSFW (if you have a vagina or boobs)

- she will suck on your tiddies. she likes playing with them during sex, she will grope them, pinching your nipples, tongue flicking out to lick one of them.

- she loves fingering you, she likes the way your tight cunt takes her in so nicely. she loves the way your juices coat all over her fingers. also loves the way you moan for her when she fingers you.

- loves eating you out?? she will be between your thighs at any time of the day, she is at your beck and call.

NSFW (if you have a penis)

- she likes to suck you off, she will look so sweet and pretty as she drools over the head of your cock.

- she looks really pretty when she’s on her knees looking up at you, looking at you through her long blissful eyelashes.

- she often likes to be on top, riding you to her hearts content. her perky breasts bounce as she grinds her hips against your length, it looks real cute too.

#adventure time smut #fionna and cake #send requests #adventure time #fionna and cake smut #fionna and cake x reader #adventure time x reader #adventure time x reader smut #send asks #anon ask #anon answered #anon request #betty grof #Betty grof x reader #Betty grof smut #Betty grof x reader smut #headcanon

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cheeriecherrymain · 2 years ago

Note

viktor is a cat, no i do not take criticism

you're right and you should say it.

The Likeness Of Men And Cats [Oneshot] Pairing: Viktor x Reader Rating: T Proofread: no beta we die like men Synopsis: You acquire a cat for the first time, and make a startling connection between it and your best friend, Viktor. Of course, you now have to test your theory: is the man you're crushing on actually several cats in a trenchcoat?

You’ve worked with Viktor for years. Six years, in fact, if you started all the way back in your first year at the academy.

You hadn’t had much interest in him, then. He was just another face in the crowded classroom, just another hand that got raised whenever your professors asked a question. He was smart, sure, but no more than some of the other people in your peer group.

Only once you’d been assigned to a group project did you really start getting to know him - and his less than stellar reputation around campus.

Your friends had all given you their condolences when you’d told them who you’d be working with for the semester, each of them sprouting off some story or another about an interaction they’d had with this Viktor.

And the more you got to know him, the more you realized their stories were true.

He was blunt, and logical to a fault. He refused to take breaks, for either his or your sake - even when you’d been about to pass out from sleep deprivation, he’d merely sighed and told you to sleep, then, if you need it. He frustrated you to no end.

And the more you got to know him, the more you realized your friends’ tales were…wrong.

You had hardly wanted bad blood between you and the man you were supposed to be working with for the whole semester, so you’d stuck it out. You’d been friendly, made yourself approachable, listened to him when he spoke and tried to include him in conversations.

And eventually he opened up.

Shared little jokes with you, brought little snacks to your study sessions so you wouldn’t go hungry. He showed a profound sense of compassion, the deeper your chats got, and a truly spectacular desire to change the world for the better.

It only made sense that you’d fall in love with him. Stupidly, terribly in love.

Even now, years after you’d graduated and moved onto your own projects, you still got heart palpitations whenever you spent time with him. Which happened to be most days, what with your work coinciding so closely. You’re certain that one of these days, the persistent thrum in your chest is simply going to stop, and you’re going to perish.

All because of him, and his stupid handsome face, and his stupid beautiful brain.

And it’s not like you hadn’t tried to tell him how you felt! You’re not the kind of person to just stand there stewing in your feelings for years without trying to resolve them!

He was just…not interested. You dropped hint after hint after hint, suggesting you spend time together to catch up, or maybe go out to lunch, or even dinner. You’d flirted with him so openly that even Jayce was cringing from your efforts!

But he never reciprocated.

Jayce had tried to comfort you one evening, after a particularly rough afternoon of thirsting after your best friend. He probably just doesn’t realize you’re trying to uhh…woo him, he’d said, in a vain attempt at calming your roiling emotions.

Didn’t realize. Right.

You’d been heartbroken for so long after being rejected by Viktor, lost in thought and unable to effectively work. Making excuse after excuse as to why you were ‘out of sorts’ and ‘not feeling well’.

That is…until now.

Three weeks ago, you’d…come into the possession of a soft, fuzzy creature. Or she’d come into possession of you?

Either way, you’d found a cat. Skinny, mottled black and white, covered in fleas - she’d woken you up in the middle of a fateful night, screaming haplessly from your balcony where she’d gotten stuck. The moment you opened the sliding door, she’d run inside and had since refused to leave.

It had been hectic in the first couple days, particularly when you were trying to get her into the bath to remove all the built up dirt and dust from her fur. But you’d gotten her settled eventually, and since then she’s become a staple in your everyday routine.

It had taken you a while to really notice the patterns in her behavior, and to connect the dots.

Your cat behaved an awful lot like Viktor.

Rather, Viktor behaved an awful lot like a cat.

Bringing you little gifts for no apparent reason, typically in the form of snacks or trinkets. Preferring to sit in the same place as you and work separately, as opposed to actively engaging in conversation. Only showing you his softer side once he knew he could trust you. Even the few times he touched you, he did so in the most unusual way you’d ever seen - running a hand down your arm, or your back.

Not unlike a cat brushing up against its companion.

Looking back, knowing what you know now, you feel…stupid. For disregarding the man you loved so easily, for not clueing into his way of expressing love.

Because of course he loved you!

…probably.

Maybe.

…you need to test your theory.

—

The next day is when you begin Phase One of your plan.

You spent the entire night working on a detailed month-long set of experiments, subtle enough that Viktor wouldn’t think your actions were too weird or out of the blue. In the event that you were wrong in your hypothesis, you would be able to chalk your behaviour up to…

…to…

…wanting to switch things up a bit?

So, truthfully, you hadn’t really thought much about it at all. You’d actually fallen asleep with your face smashed into your desk around ten in the evening, and by the time your alarm had started blaring, you had to scramble to make sense of what little you’d scribbled down.

“Good afternoon, my brilliant men of science!” you cheer, skipping into the lab in your typical loud fashion, your arms full with a large cardboard box that had steam wafting from between its creases.

Viktor hums a quiet greeting from across the room, barely paying you any mind as he continues to focus on his current project.

Jayce, on the other hand, looks over the moment you set foot in the room, making a beeline towards you when he sees you struggling with your parcel.

“What’s in the box?” he wonders, watching over your shoulder as you set it out on one of the free desks, and begin to unfold the flaps.

“Lunch!” you reply, finally revealing a bunch of smaller boxes packed tightly within. “I know you two don’t always have time to run out to grab something to eat, so I thought I’d do it for you. It’s important to keep your energy up when you’re using your brains so much.”

Jayce wastes no time in helping you unpack everything you’d brought, opening up each little package to discover the treasures that lay inside. It’s mostly foods that you know Viktor likes - a couple of baked goods, some potato dumplings, a thermos of root stew, some little swirly breads.

In no time, he’s fixed himself a plate and gone back to his own workplace, leaving you to stand alone by the feast.

Looking at Viktor.

Who was looking at you.

Looking at you with the most suspicion you’ve ever seen him wear, with his eyes narrowed in thought and his shoulders held tight and square.

“Why?” he asks, glancing between you and the food.

“What do you mean, why?”

His brows pull together slightly, adding to the absolute absurdity of his expression.

“What’s the catch?” he reiterates, finally rising from his seat to slink towards you. “You never bring us lunch. Ever. What’s the occasion?”

You shrug nonchalantly.

“Why would I need a reason to be nice?” you ask. You supposed you could just tell him what you were up to - you doubt he’d be upset with you if you did. He’d probably just be curious about your theory.

The only issue was that if he knew, it might skew your data. If he knew what you were looking for, he might try to react in a way that he thought you’d like - or in a way that would purposefully fuck with you.

No, it would be better if you didn’t tell him. At least not yet.

“V, I’m all for asking questions, but please stop trying to dissect a good thing?” Jayce pleads from the other side of the room, casting over his best impression of a kicked puppy.

You’re pretty sure he knows what you’re up to.

Viktor, in any case, appears to be momentarily placated by your explanation, poor as it was. You know that he’s going to wonder about it eventually, but for now you’ve got time. You’ve got time to sit and eat lunch with your two best friends, and hopefully think up some better excuses.

—

You continue bringing the two of them lunch for the next week. Jayce remains completely unbothered by the situation, and even offers to help once you tell him what your master plan is.

He knows how down bad you are for your friend, and you’re certain that he’s fully sick of listening to you lament about how pretty he is and how badly your heart aches.

Viktor hasn’t mentioned anything since the first day of your new routine, either, but you can tell he’s just as suspicious as he was at the start. His gaze is always sharp when you clatter into the room with another box of food, watching intently while you unpack, remaining trained on you while he makes his way over to hesitantly scoop some up for himself.

Almost like he’s waiting for some kind of reaction out of you.

But you give him nothing, no hints as to what your plan is. You wait patiently while he fixes himself a plate, asking him how his day has been or perhaps about what he’s working on, smiling softly all the while.

It’s exactly one week to the day when you burst into the lab again, followed closely by your loud and raucous announcement of your presence, only to be met with silence.

“I’m afraid Jayce isn’t here today,” Viktor sighs from behind a stack of notebooks, not even bothering to turn his attention away from the formulas he’s copying down.

You, however, are undeterred, continuing your trail into the room, over to your usual table where you are about to begin Phase Two of testing your theory.

“I know,” you reply, setting your things down. “He said he had a thing with Mel today - and a busy week, too.”

You can see from the corner of your eye as your friend finally turns away from his work.

“You knew he wouldn’t be here?” he wonders, utterly perplexed. When you hum your confirmation, he continues, “Then why did you bother coming?”

That alone is enough to give you pause, glancing towards him in confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask.

You stare at each other for a couple of seconds, before he shrugs and makes a noncommittal grumble, turning back to his papers.

He…thought you wouldn’t come? If it was just him, he thought…you wouldn’t even bother showing up. As if he wasn’t your best friend, and the love of your life, and the brightest part of your day? Like he couldn’t possibly be the reason for your kindness?

Your heart clenches.

In silence, you fix him a plate of the little foods you know he’ll like; you’d gone out of your way to pick out a couple of his favourites today, having suspected that he might be difficult to persuade without Jayce nearby to bully him into eating.

“Here,” you tell him, softly, setting the plate on the desk beside him. You set your hand on his shoulder for a brief moment, letting your fingertips wander down his arm, and then turn away to head back to your own work.

Knowing Viktor, he’d prefer the silence over active conversation. It was easier for him when the other half of HexTech was around to act as a buffer and keep your endless desire to talk entertained. But today, when it’s just the two of you? You know you’ve overstepped your bounds in the past, pushing him into a state of discomfort with your constant chattering.

But not today.

Today, you’ve brought your own work with you, fully intent on sitting quietly with your best friend while you both eat your meals. You had the entire hour to catch up on grading your students’ tests - grades they’d been hassling you about for a while now.

It’s a little bit uncomfortable at first, to not talk while you know he’s nearby. There are things from your day that you want to share with him - something funny that one of your first-years said to you, the gossip you’ve heard about other faculty members.

But you resist.

Viktor, on the other hand, only makes it about ten minutes.

All at once, the incessant scribbling of his pen stops, followed by a deep sigh, and the quiet clatter of the utensil being set down. A creak in his chair, as he turns towards you.

“Have I done something to offend you?” he inquires, bluntly, as usual.

You glance up from your pile of papers with wide eyes, surprised by the suddenness of his question.

“No?” you reply, “Why would you think that?”

He sighs again, his gaze wandering away from yours and down to the floor. He looks hesitant, the same sort of hesitant that he’d been when taking the food you offered to him: like he was waiting for something to happen.

Like he was waiting for you to…to announce that you were playing some kind of absurd prank-

Oh.

“You’ve hardly said a word to me today,” he mumbles, crossing his arms on the back of his chair so he can rest his head between them.

“But…you like the quiet?” you reply, far more meek than you’d intended to be. Had he been taking your entire experiment as some kind of mean joke on him? Had he already known that he was reminiscent of a cat? Did he think you were making fun of him for it?

“Yes!” he retorts quickly, running a hand through his already-mussed hair. “But you’re always talking! To me, to Jayce - about your students, or some shitty scholarly article you read! You’ve been acting strange for the entire week. First the food, and now this - are you okay? Are you-”

“Viktor, breathe!” you squeak.

The moment you see the worry in his eyes, you jump to your feet and make your way over to him. Taking his face in your heads, despite your better judgment or regard to the rules of your plan. Stroking your thumbs slowly over the curve of his cheeks, holding him close while he forced himself to relax and slow his breathing.

You’ve never seen him so outwardly worried about you.

“Look,” you murmur, “I just…I care about you. A lot. And I feel like sometimes I…do a pretty shitty job of showing it.”

Slowly, you let your hands slide down to rest atop his shoulders.

“I’m always after you to take better care of yourself, but I never actually do anything to help. And - and I always push conversations on you, even though I know you’d rather work on your own projects.”

With a dejected sigh, you remove your hands from him completely, “Even now. My first instinct when trying to comfort you is to touch you, even though I know you don’t really like it.”

Idly, you fiddle with the edges of your sleeves.

“I just want to make you happy, but…I know I can be annoying, sometimes. I’m sorry.”

The air is thick between the two of you after that. You can’t for the life of you figure out what else you should say, if anything - you can’t even bring yourself to look him in the eye. Instead, you turn on your heel and wobble back to your seat, trying your hardest to keep the hot sting of tears from reaching your eyes.

You feel like an idiot.

Your entire plan was stupid, and your theory was stupid, and wanting to test it? Stupid!

So caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t even notice the sound of a chair being dragged across the room, over to where you sit. Only when Viktor shoves it right up beside you and plops down nearly in your lap do you jostle out of your own head.

Staring up at him with wide eyes.

“You think you’re annoying?” he asks, nearly incredulous. “I never have anything to contribute to your conversations - never have any stories or adventures of my own to share. You have to carry all our interactions! And you…think you’re annoying?”

You scoff softly. “I mean, most of my other colleagues tolerate me, and only barely. Do you know how many break room conversations I’ve accidentally overheard about me?”

He grumbles a bit, letting his head roll sideways to carefully knock against the curve of your shoulder.

“This isn’t about them,” he insists. “You’re not annoying. I enjoy listening to you talk - you always have interesting perspectives on subjects that I rarely consider.”

He tilts his face up, then, staring up at you from mere inches away with a sort of intensity that makes your cheeks nearly catch fire.

“And I also like it when you remind me to take a break. You know how I am about keeping track of time - if there isn’t an alarm, I’ll sit and work until I pass out.”

Slowly, oh so slowly, you lean towards him. Gently, tenderly, with an affection that makes your chest ache - you bonk your forehead against his, the barest of touches, but the most intimate you’ve ever been with him.

And all at once, his face lights up into a bright, rosy hue.

Much like how you had connected the dots a week ago, all the pieces fall into place in his mind. One by one, clicking together to form an entire beautiful picture: a story of your friendship, finally understanding.

“You…” he begins, trailing off as he tilts his head up by a fraction, drawing you into a kiss you’ve both been waiting years for.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor fluff #arcane fluff #viktor reader insert #see mom i cant possibly in a depressive episode i wrote THIS #arcane reader insert

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